Grayson Currin

Each Sunday, Pitchfork takes an in-depth look at a significant album from the past, and any record not in our archives is eligible. Today we revisit a 1978 ambient masterpiece that helped launch the genre through its technological savvy and its soft heart.

On his debut for Third Man, the prolific Nebraska rocker tames his wild side but still lands some magnetic songs.

With the energy and conviction of a debut, the intuitive singer-songwriter returns with a dazzling folk album that contends with the long grip of grief and the belief that it will steadily loosen.

The Australian singer and actor is blessed with a commanding and magnetic voice. Over these soul ballads and torch songs, she holds nothing back—for better or worse.

With multiple drummers, bassists, guitarists, and one gnarly violinist, this Austin collective turns repetitive rock music into a glorious mind eraser.

Late last summer, I needed to talk to Steve Albini about Sparklehorse. A session he had helmed for the late Mark Linkous more than a dozen years earlier at Electrical Audio, his efficient and economic Chicago studio, had been salvaged by the singer’s family and was about to be released. Within an hour of my Tuesday morning email, he’d volunteered access to his memories: “I’m in session all week,” he wrote. “I typically start work at 10.30 these days so any time before that I can talk.” I was not…

After a decade of searching for the intersection of hip-hop and country and a star turn on Cowboy Carter, the Virginia-born singer finds much more than a party on his third album.

On its first album in 12 years, the veteran instrumental trio discovers a newfound spontaneity, summoning some of the most beautiful and emotional work of the group’s career.

On his fifth album and first for Fat Possum, the Southern folk singer finds ingenious ways to pull old obscurities into the anxious present.

Read Grayson Haver Currin’s review of the album.