Some bands are predominantly studio entities who take their music on the road out of promotional obligation; I’ve always felt that Mogwai is a live band who happens to make albums. And despite having never seen them live (they ended up canceling the Chicago show I had tickets for a few years ago), I’ve found their generous offerings of live tracks over the years to be a fine substitute. These selections really glorify Mogwai’s post-rock essence, allowing the band to be heard in their element as a cohesive, refined unit that flows, climaxes, and recedes together. These tracks showcase the band’s uncanny ability to instantly switch from glacial drones to gnarled, meteoric guitar lines that tower above the mix. Their agility is amazing to me, as is their ability to collectively commit to a dynamic or timbre within a split second. As a member of a noise-rock band myself, these are things I aspire to do with my own group, and Mogwai is one of the ensembles I always turn to for sonic advice.Their earlier, more guitar-centric music is clearly on display here, with excellent and moving performances of “Yes! I Am A Long Way From Home” and “Cody.” Unfortunately, their unbelievable live LP, Special Moves, which has great performances of later tracks “I’m Jim Morrison, I’m Dead” and “I Love You, I’m Going to Blow Up Your School,” isn’t available in its entirety on Spotify, but I highly recommend seeking it out elsewhere. Government Commissions (BBC Sessions 1996-2003), however, is well-represented in this playlist, and it contains some breathtaking moments, from the reverb washes of “Superheroes of BMX” to the slow-burn intensity of “Hunted By a Freak.” Many of the other tracks here are from EPs and reissues. Mogwai has really done their fans a service by releasing so much live material over the years; to submit yourself to it is to experience the true nature of their music.

Over the past 20 years, we’ve lived under four different U.S. presidents, seen the mapping of the human genome, witnessed the confirmation of the Higgs boson particle, and experienced the beginnings of the United Kingdom’s exit from the European Union. Throughout all the turmoil, Canadian rockers The New Pornographers have kept on truckin’, churning out electric power pop that consistently refuses to capitulate to larger trends in music or politics. They are a staple of indie rock, one of the most dependable and unwavering bands working today. It’s amazing that they’ve managed this, since their lineup is a massive registry of accomplished pop musicians, all with unique styles and musical approaches of their own.A.C. Newman has been one of the backbones of the band since their inception in 1997, when they were birthed out of his other projects: power pop outfit Zumpano and prog monsters Superconductor, in which traces of the trademark Pornographers vibe could already be sensed. Country-tinged troubadour Neko Case has been another integral part of the ensemble since their beginning, importing her compelling vocal style from her successful solo career. The third is, of course, Dan Bejar, whose solo project Destroyer has amassed an eclectic, enigmatic discography, from the sensuous, Dylan-esque jams of This Night to the disco-infused rock of Kaputt, and everything in between. The Pornographers’ later music showcases the contributions of newer member Kathryn Calder, whose aggressively cool pop group Immaculate Machine produced numerous great tracks before their final record in 2009.This playlist explores the music of these members and more, including bassist John Collins’ The Evaporators (with the legendary Nardwuar), first drummer Kurt Dahle’s The Age of Electric and Limblifter, lead guitarist Todd Fancey’s eponymous solo project, current drummer Joe Seiders’ Beat Club, and touring member Simi Stone’s Suffrajett. The New Pornographers’ recent album Whiteout Conditions—which, sadly, is their first without Bejar—continues their awesome melting pot of all of their individual styles and voices.

Ryan Adams’ latest record, Prisoner, contains a profoundly affecting and relatable story of personal overcoming that is beautifully filtered through a hard-hitting kaleidoscope of ‘70s and ‘80s sounds and techniques. Yet despite the ever-present ghosts of his influences, the album is an original, organic fulfillment of what he’s been aiming at for most of his career.The sonic ascent to Prisoner began with his 2014 self-titled album, a misty, midnight ride through his neon mind where echoing drums, glowing guitar riffs, and shadowy organs refract The Replacements and Tunnel of Love-era Springsteen. The following year’s 1989, a song-for-song cover of the Taylor Swift album, went even darker, gesturing toward The Smiths and Springsteen’s moodier moments—try to tell me Adams’ version of “Shake It Off” isn’t a luminous, slow-burn cousin to “I’m on Fire.”Prisoner completes the trajectory of these records. Many have called it a breakup album, which in many ways it is, but it’s also full of hope and power thanks to the strength it draws from Adams’ spiritual predecessors. The lightning-quick guitar outbursts of “Do You Still Love Me?” gesture back to Black Sabbath (Vol. 4 is an Adams favorite), Kiss, and AC/DC. The title track evokes the shiny jangle of Johnny Marr, while “Doomsday” imagines what would happen if The Cure had a harmonica player. “To Be Without You” harkens to the joyous, swaggering folk of The Grateful Dead, and “Outbound Train” is vintage Springsteen, complete with suspended chords and lyrics about cars, loneliness, and boredom.The album’s masterful closer resides at the top of the class of Adams’ grand finales, repeating its mantra of “we disappear” with production so crisp and transparent it sounds like Adams is actually disappearing. And yet, throughout the images of fading taillights and haunted houses, beyond The Smiths and Springsteen, Ryan Adams is doing his own thing. And he nails it.Click here to add to Spotify playlist!

It’s not very cool to like Spoon today, which is strange because they are an incredible band. Whenever I bring them up to friends, other music writers, or even members of my band, my comments are usually met with: “They’re OK,” “I don’t like them,” or something far more pejorative. The thing is, Spoon are one of the most strange and creative bands working in popular indie rock today and they consistently reinvent themselves.Their tracks meld rock ‘n’ roll and electronic elements and are tempered by production that occasionally borders on noise. Their studio work is remarkably meticulous, using ambience and timbre cleverly and makes brilliant use of the depth between foreground and background. Their song structures are clever and vigorous with many tracks violently shifting speed, tone, or texture on a dime. For these reasons, I’ve been telling people for years that Transference is one of the best rock albums of this generation. But I have yet to convert anyone.Songs like “The Ghost of You Lingers” and “I Saw The Light” engage musical space in an innovative way, using static motifs to explore the use of noise in songs and soloing. “WhisperI’lllistentohearit,” from 2017’s Hot Thoughts, features ethereal pulses overlayed with fastidiously situated guitar until the song blasts into a different tempo, fleshing itself out with distortion, synths, and critically placed tambourines and shakers. This is extremely cool music.Do a lot of people like Spoon? Sure. Do they appear on TV and at big festivals? Yeah. Can their music be heard in films and trailers? Yep. That’s because they are a great band. As you’re warming up to Hot Thoughts, enjoy this playlist of their outliers. Songs about death, sex, and loneliness shouldn’t be this fun to listen to.

M83 is fixated on the sky, on big sound, on feeling alive. Their name is taken from Messier 83, a spiral galaxy; their music, however, comes from primary member Anthony Gonzalez’s long engagement with pop history. Some of his influences, such as the Cocteau Twins, Vangelis, and My Bloody Valentine, are apparent from listening to his music, and yet, his love of the weirder sides of Pink Floyd and The Beatles is equally important. His synthesizer tones are in touch with the ethereal sounds of Jean-Michel Jarre and Tangerine Dream, while the pacing and drama of his more epic works unquestionably gesture toward Slowdive and Sigur Rós. M83 transforms the greatest qualities of these musicians into sonic collages that feel simultaneously familiar and fresh.

Click here to add to Spotify playlist!Profound Lore was founded in 2004 by Chris Bruni as a casual venture, but within a few years it grew to be a serious metal label. Based in Kitchener, Ontario—about an hour’s drive west of Toronto—Profound Lore has produced some of the most vital voices in contemporary black, experimental, and heavy metal.Providing a deep history of Profound Lore Records is a challenging pursuit, as the only thing listed on their website’s “About” page is an H. P. Lovecraft quote from “The Outsider”: “I know always that I am an outsider; a stranger in this century and among those who are still men.” Maybe that really does sum it all up, and maybe Profound Lore only needs to be known by what they’ve done.Many of their releases challenge common perceptions of metal: Prurient’s Frozen Niagara Falls could only be called metal in its attitude, which is cold, penetrating, and unforgettably bleak. In the track “Greenpoint,” industrial rips and existential explosions of white noise attack across an unforgiving pulse, giving way to bone-chilling lyrics about the namesake Brooklyn neighborhood where an uncommon number of people have committed suicide.By contrast, Ash Borer’s 2016 record The Irrepassable Gate is a more straightforward black metal album, flush with wailing guitars, punishing blast beats, and of course, howling vocals. It’s a dark and masterful album, showcasing the incredible growth they’ve made over the course of only three full LPs, the last two of which have been released through Profound Lore.There truly isn’t enough space here to pay tribute to the label that brought us Krallice’s self-titled masterpiece (as well as Dimensional Bleedthrough and Diotima), a few albums from drone/noise metal legends Nadja, all three LPs from doom band Pallbearer, and many more. It’s clear that what Profound Lore do on a day-to-day basis remains in the shadows, but for metal, perhaps that’s necessary.

Dinosaur Jr.’s guitar assaults are forces of nature. Standing tall before his four amp setup—which includes two Marshall full-stacks—J Mascis achieves a distinct and rich sound, one that brilliantly blends melodic and textural playing. His primary guitar is a 1963 sunburst Fender Jazzmaster that sports replaced covers, pickups, and knobs in addition to a switched-out bridge. Secondarily he jams a 1965 Jazzmaster, also sunburst, but with original knobs and pickups. His pedalboard is another story altogether, utilizing everything from Electro-Harmonix’s Big Muff and POG2 Polyphonic Octave pieces to a KR Mega Vibe Vibrato Pedal. This is all to say that while Dinosaur Jr. may appear to have been shredding with the greatest of ease for over 25 years, Mascis’ full, dynamic sound is the product of years of fine-tuning a vast array of meticulously selected components.

There is something special about Kranky Records. Amidst a sea of labels that release a consistent bill of fare, Kranky puts out everything from avant-garde electronic and ambient to noisy dream pop, going out of their way to shed light on original and imaginative voices. Since its founding in Chicago in 1993, Kranky has released albums for such visionary artists as Deerhunter, Keith Fullerton Whitman, Godspeed You! Black Emperor, Tim Hecker, and more. In her time on the label, Liz Harris (Grouper, Mirrorring) has developed a wholly unique and prismatic aesthetic, while Bradfox Cox (Deerhunter, Atlas Sound) took his bedroom pop project to its post-punk and shoegaze fruition. With hazy synths, towering guitars, impressionistic vocals, and a decidedly experimental sensibility, Kranky Records really does do it all.

Subscribe to the Spotify playlist right here.Tom Waits has not only one of the most distinct voices of all folk-rock crooners, he also has one of the most nuanced and studied approaches to narrative and musical accompaniment of any modern songwriter. His gravelly, whiskey-soaked voice, one whose every forlorn syllable bears witness to a lifetime of tragic loss, conjures somber and lamenting narratives almost effortlessly and constructs unmistakably American stories with vivid language and crushing pathos. The content he takes up, which ranges from hobo adagios and flower funerals to tearful reflections on missed opportunities, moves even the most stoic of listeners. His relatable melodies and his jazz- and blues-flavored progressions and cadences meld into a strange and unmatched sound—one of a singular, time-worn voice gliding sympathetically above 88 melancholy black and white keys, ever-searching for the heart of Saturday night.

The despair in our world is not enough for Bruce Springsteen—he’s spent his entire career constructing heartbreaking narratives and fateful losses in parallel worlds, and each song is a complete, grim universe in itself. In the tempestuous “Lost in the Flood,” a soldier drives a racecar directly into a hurricane and evaporates into a tableau of detritus in which oil and blood are indistinguishable. In the dour and menacing songs of Nebraska, he sings about the never-ending crisis of faith that plagues the working man: “Reason to Believe” sees a bystander staring despairingly at a dead dog, trying to will it back to life; in “Atlantic City,” a phantom protagonist becomes involved with organized crime, knowing full well that it will kill him. In Springsteen’s vast repertoire of harrowing misfortune, it is often the living who are dead, and yet his faith in the possibility of emancipation is soothing.