This might feel like a somewhat obvious recommendation to some, but it flew under my radar until now. Alfred Bester's The Stars My Destination (originally published as Tiger! Tiger! in the UK) is a 1956 sci-fi novel that some have cited as a precursor to cyberpunk. It's a work I admit I have some conflicted feelings about, but one I think is well worth reading if you consider yourself a fan of sci-fi. It's also well worth seeking out a physical copy, something I wish I had known before I started reading it in the objectively inferior ebook form that can't capture the ergodic elements of the climax.

It's hard to explain the plot of The Stars …

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For obvious reasons, I've had Moon on the mind all week. So I was trying to figure out what I should recommend this week that would thematically fit. Brian Eno's Apollo: Atmospheres and Soundtracks is incredible, and if you haven't listened to it, go do that now. But it also seemed a bit on the nose. Radiohead's A Moon Shaped Pool also came to mind. But it also felt a bit obvious. Then I remembered Kate NV's Room for the Moon, a record I had on repeat in 2020.

Russian artist Kate Shilonosova chases ideas across 11 tracks inspired by Russian and Japanese pop from the '70s and '80s, as well as children's movies. This obviously leads Room for …

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Los Thuthanaka basically came out of nowhere last year to capture Pitchfork's album of the year with their self-titled debut. Because it wasn't available on streaming, it largely flew under the radar. I honestly kind of forgot about it until Pitchfork gave it the number one spot in its year-end list. In retrospect, I'm not entirely sure how, though. Los Thuthanaka sounds like nothing else. It's joyous, jagged, and sounds like it's being blasted out of a broken Bluetooth speaker in your neighbor's backyard - it's glorious.

The follow-up EP Wak'a turns down the tempo and smooths some of the sharper edges. It uses the same sound palette of blo …

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It's rare for a movie to get technology right. And it's even rarer for that movie to be a thriller or horror, where realism takes a backseat to scares and tension. But Red Rooms mostly gets it. Nothing takes me out of a film quicker than a tech MacGuffin that might as well be literal magic. Yes, the phrase "dark web" will always sound a bit silly, but at no point during its 118 minutes does the tech become a distraction.

It's not the tech that makes Red Rooms great, though. It's just something that could have easily tanked an otherwise excellent movie. What carries the film is the expert tension building by director Pascal Plante. The perf …

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Last week's recommendation, Sotomayor's Wabi Sabi, has a very particular vibe that you don't find in a lot of records. One of the few things it called to mind was 2022's Topical Dancer from Charlotte Adigery and Bolis Pupul, which I ended up revisiting this week a lot.

The two records don't seem particularly alike on the surface. But they're both rough around the edges smash-ups of electronic and organic elements packaged for dance-floor abandon. The way the sounds and rhythms click together feels very much of the same ilk.

There are, of course, differences. Significant ones. Adigery and Pupul draw more heavily from rock and early electron …

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Shout out to subscriber N_Gorski for today's pick. They popped into the comments on last week's recommendation to ask what I thought of the new Sotomayor record. Well, I hadn't actually heard it yet, but now I'm obsessed.

The group consists of siblings Raul and Paulina Sotomayor from Mexico City. Wabi Sabi is their first record since 2020's Origenes, and it is pure joy. You can look back through everything I've recommended over the last several months, and "fun" is not how you'd describe most of it. But that's what Wabi Sabi is - it's fun, chaotic, and dancey as hell.

I was only familiar with Sotomayor before this because of a short docume …

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The opening notes of "Kravitz," which kicks off Mabe Fratti's 2024 record Sentir Que No Sabes, are lodged in my brain permanently. It's not a showy album, by any means. But there's something about the buzzing of her cello, plucked as you might an upright bass. The way the notes ring out before coming to an abrupt stop, fuzz still hanging in the air, set against a simple kick and snare sat firmly in the pocket. There's something industrial about the way it all comes together, like a jazzy "Closer."

Then come Fratti's paranoid lyrics in Spanish about ears in the ceiling and someone listening through the walls, and the slightly atonal horn bl …

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I recently had the pleasure of interviewing Laurie Spiegel for the site. As preparation for the interview, I spent a lot of time over the last couple of weeks revisiting Spiegel's records, most notably The Expanding Universe, her 1980 masterpiece that blends synth experimentalism with early examples of what would eventually be called ambient music, and algorithmic composition techniques. It's a marvel that sounds both nostalgic and cutting-edge at the same time.

Tracks like "Patchwork" and "A Folk Study" dabble in the sort of bouncy arpeggios that beg comparisons to The Who's "Baba O'Riley," while "Old Wave" and "East River Dawn" conjure ea …

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Let me just say that I highly recommend you go into Possession blind. Don't watch a trailer. Don't even finish reading this. Go watch it now over on Shudder, Criterion, or Metrograph. It's also available through Kanopy or Hoopla if your library provides access. Then come back so we can talk about it in the comments. Though this probably isn't one for the squeamish.

Warning: Spoilers ahead.

Possession is the sort of film that, even if you've had the whole plot spoiled for you, can be difficult to follow. After watching it twice, listening to three different podcasts, and reading multiple articles about it, I'm still not 100 percent sure wha …

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Often, I focus on recommending older media that isn't currently getting a ton of attention. But this week, I can't stop listening to the new Mandy, Indiana album long enough to even think about anything else. It's early still, obviously, but URGH is my favorite release of 2026 so far. The band that I fell in love with on I've Seen a Way has found an entirely new gear.

Frontwoman Valentine Caulfield is even more uncompromising. Most of the lyrics are in French, but even if you don't know what she's saying, you can feel the contempt. On "Magazine" she's spitting in your face as she seethes:

Je viens pour toi

Alors vas-y cours

Je n'te …

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