In Rotation

M.I.A.’s ///Y/ is a specific kind of failure. After Arular and Kala, the anticipation was almost unbearable—this was supposed to be the record where she turned experimental sounds into something inevitable, like she’d been heading there all along. Instead she disappears into her own production. The sounds are intricate and strange but untethered, like watching someone get lost in synths and forget they’re supposed to be making songs that land. Born Free still works, and XXXO has something, but the album overall feels like she’s obsessed with texture at the expense of impact. I keep giving it another listen, waiting for it to click, and it doesn’t.

Bombay Bicycle Club’s Flaws sounds like someone else dictated the emotional palette. Where’s the snap from I Had The Blues But I Shook Them Loose? This is relentlessly pretty and relentlessly sad, the kind of sadness that feels performed rather than felt. It drains without giving anything back. Each track blurs into the next. Ivy & Gold is the only moment that lands, which says everything.

Wolf Parade’s Expo 86 is the record that actually arrives this week. Third album, and they’ve figured out how to balance ambition with craft in a way the others are still chasing. The keyboards don’t hide under the guitars or dominate them—they sit as equals. Ghost Pressure and Little Golden Age are the tracks that show what they’re capable of. It feels earned, like they believe what they’re saying instead of trying ideas on. That’s rarer than it should be.