The Top 40 Mandopop Albums of 2024
rounding up the top Mandopop releases of the year, by Zhang Xingchan, Leah Dou, and Vansdaddy, and more and more
Perhaps the biggest throughline in this year’s list is that so many albums put their creator’s desire to make at the forefront: Zhang Xingchan pushed herself to record and release an album in less than half a year, something one song directly addresses; Leah Dou wrote about writing a song while miles in the sky, both as a form of an apology and as a vessel for missing someone she was on uncertain terms with; and Vansdaddy wrote a weird, miniature little epic about trying to avoid the fate of his poet father, only to wind up becoming the rapper of his hometown. Hell, even the rest of this list feels propelled forward by the need to make something out of their songs: misi Ke’s album includes a song written fifteen years ago that she finally was able to make work, Wang Yiling’s was put together on borrowed money and pieced-together equipment. Production wasn’t a salve, but a way to live.
This list runs from December 2023 to November 2024—doing otherwise would ignore the huge releases out in the final month or forcing me to work through December to post a list in January. There’s a couple releases from December here, including babyMINT’s Loading… FUN! one of, if not the greatest albums of the decade so far, but that doesn’t make sense to include as the top spot when all its singles were released last year. It’s been a pleasure. I hope you enjoy this year’s list.
You can find a Spotify playlist with selections from each album here and a nice little chart with all the albums at the bottom. Also check out my list of Mandopop singles and Cantopop singles.
40. Yu Ching - The Crystal Hum
Inspired by ‘60s girl group music and ‘70s lo-fi recordings, Yu Ching squeezes The Crystal Hum into something minimalist. Her melodies are simple and sparse, yet she lets the instrumentation bleed together, her rubbery basslines, guitar noodling, and analog synths melting into an eerie mass. The effect is spectral, her voice dissolving into the album’s abyss. Don’t expect any resolution on The Crystal Hum—every wisp of sound is made to hang in the air before she lets it gently fade into the ether.
Listen here: Apple Music // Bandcamp // Spotify
39. anti-talent - Beast to Human
anti-talent’s pep talks take all kinds of forms. For the minor grievances, the trio—comprised of vocalist Huang Ruoxin and rappers Pei Tuo and Shuo Mei—will throw a sing-along hook over a funky bass line and call it. But for the heavy heart, there’s something endearing in the clumsily strung together verses, almost as if put together in real time: “get your shit together,” Shuo Mei raps in asking himself to be a better person, “I never thought that the beauty in front of me could heal all wounds,” Pei raps elsewhere, deciding to live for another tomorrow.
Listen here: Apple Music // Spotify
38. ZesT - 苹果园
ZesT thinks her overenthusiastic attitude might have spoiled things again, but this time she can’t help herself—she really wants this one to work out. Throughout 苹果园 (Apple Orchard), ZesT fights between rushed quasi-rapped lines and aching, slightly off-pitch melodies, both of which clearly exhibit her nervousness. Her indie pop is coated in a fuzzy snugness as she dreams up every scenario where her confession might reach him.
Listen here: Apple Music // Spotify
37. XiangXiang - Hear It, XiangXiang It!
The Guangzhou-based five piece injects chipper attitude and sugary energy into the local indie scene, wrapping its typical twee sounds with bursts of fuzz and sparky melodies. Hear It, XiangXiang It! is a slice-of-life depiction of summer’s emptiest days made explosive by muscular shoegaze distortion and big power pop melodies; the band build stupid in-jokes while sipping on Ramune and cooling down under the air conditioner—something invigorating for their mundane day-to-day.
Listen here: Apple Music // Spotify
36. Deep Water - Deep Water II
For a dream pop outfit, Deep Water’s sound is more mist than fog. The reverb is only applied gently to both Shu Geman’s faint, high-pitched voice and Wang Bo’s often clean guitar melodies. It’s a sound befitting a duo who lay everything in plain language. On “Find Whiskey,” Shu’s fears have her rejecting the cultural rule that the end should not be mentioned: “I know I will die someday / hope not on a plane,” she laments, so straightforward it’s almost funny.
Listen here: Spotify
35. Yu Jiayun - Yu
You might recognize Yu Jiayun as something of an old soul. The R&B singer’s voice is soft but slightly ragged and his tastes are decisively retro-leaning as displayed by the varying songs of his second album: wedding band arrangements, gospel prayer, and the delectable smear of city pop keys. Yu is his study of time, an investigation into the weight of a second wasted with someone else in your abyss.
Listen here: Apple Music // Spotify
34. Summer Lei - Short Stories
Summer Lei’s father, the late poet Lay Hsiang, would weave stories for her mother. And her mother? Her mother would listen to them. To the pair, it was a deep act of love, one that inspired Lei’s latest album, Short Stories. The string arrangements of Short Stories give it an almost timeless feel as if you’ve unearthed something from the generation before you. Lei does that, but lets her imagination extend their endings: she takes letters written by her father to his friend and adds a resolution to process her grief, she tracks an epilogue for the final character of a novel, and she reinterprets an old track written for a friend, modifying the lyrics to fit her new state of mind.
Listen here: Apple Music // Spotify
33. Wendy Wander - Midnight Blue
In the darkness of night, sometimes all that remains of your identity is that of the lover. Wendy Wander’s thoughts dwell on sleepless separation, late-night quarrels, and touch—man if you could just have one more touch. The Taiwanese band’s strain of rock leans soft, carrying the romantic touch of the ‘80s in their propulsive synthpop, lonely disco struts, and funk deviations as they seek a resolution to the lover’s blues. Best is Midnight Blue’s tender centrepiece, “Angel Angel,” as they dream up that private slow dance, the feelings so strong that not even the devil could separate the pair.
Listen here: Apple Music // Spotify
32. Stringer - Sunset Odyssey
Stringer is at the party running opening lines; she’s at the edge of a breakup asking about the day you’ll meet once more. She could live in a fantasy if it meant being an inch closer and having you a moment longer. Sunset Odyssey, the singer’s finest album yet, applies an elegant touch to its every atmosphere, whether she’s working stylish city pop to a twilight breeze or spinning dreamy ambience over a lounge piano. The singer pairs her romantic reveries against the backdrop of a pink sky to make her kind of love feel immense and rare.
Listen here: Apple Music // Spotify
31. 1pfani & Random - 走向花園的橋
In their immaculate garden, 1pfani and Random use digital tools to create vibrant, tropical flowers and lush, green scenery. The producer’s soundscapes on 走向花園的橋 (Bridge to the Garden) mimic the fuzziness of cloud rap, but 1pfani is takes care to point out all the colours, like an ocean of golden flowers or a rainbow built out of a lover’s sadness as she fixates on creating the beautiful image she’s envisioned.
Listen here: Apple Music // Spotify
30. Night Keepers - Retune
Night Keepers’ third album, constantly encourages your recovery. The band nudge you to bed, but there’s the acknowledgement that recovery is often hard-earned in the jolts of friction scattered across the band’s otherwise serene indie pop. The title track feels like a delicate portrayal of domestic safety, closing out Retune with vocalist Chih-Ling gently coaxing you back to sleep and the background clink of dishes that sounds like an act of the utmost tenderness.
Listen here: Apple Music // Spotify
29. XiHong & CNdY - Fist of Thorns
On paper, this collaboration is a real head-scratcher: what exactly do foul-mouthed rapper XiHong and electronic four-piece CNdY have in common? A fascination for in-your-face noise, it turns out. XiHong treats Fist of Thorns like one long stream of conscious; he’s combative in his opinions and unafraid of taking shots at himself or others as he compares dick sizes (you win, apparently) and raps about wanting to kill himself. Equally as violent is CNdY’s hyperactive production, clanging and glitching as if it were created in a junkyard over dial-up, the artifacts of noise left intact. Teaming up, every spitfire line, crash, and splinter packs a hefty punch.
Listen here: Apple Music // Bandcamp // Spotify
28. Voision Xi - Queen and Elf
For Voision Xi’s second full-length, she immerses herself in a realm of fantasy, spinning a more playful approach to her intricate arrangements. The interplay of strings on “Truly (after)” is frisky, while “Leaf Sheep” basks in the light as she puts a charming synthpop twist on bossa nova. Queen and Elf makes room for real figures in her make-believe world, heroes and friends alike: “Muse (for Joyce)” is a tribute to Brazilian jazz singer Joyce Morena, actress/singer Tian Yuan narrates the beautiful “We Could Be Shy,” and collaborators, like Xiao Jun and Wu Yongheng, flesh out her ornate vision.
Listen here: Apple Music // Spotify
27. OuttaWave - 我说白了
Like any good local, OuttaWave is proud to rep his hometown. References to the northeast dot all his verses on 我说白了 (Frankly Speaking), propped up by tempered UK drill wobbles and four-on-the-floor club beats. He’s a hell of a hype man, calling guest rapper Udiggwhatiamsayin a Bai Jingting lookalike, and affable too, later taking you to dinner and urging you to try the region’s local dishes: “if you like it, eat more / if not, no worries,” he dotes. He’s got stories to share—book the rapper as a guide on your next visit to the region before he sells big.
Listen here: Apple Music // Spotify
26. TIA RAY - ALLURE
On her last album, ONCE UPON A MOON, TIA RAY took her earthly desires to the heavens, but for ALLURE, she finds herself back on solid ground, surrounded by the flora and fauna, only occasionally looking up to greet the morning sun or navigate by the light of a star. Producer George Chen has a knack for pulling out great vocal performances, stripping off the previous vocal effects to leave TIA RAY’s voice unadorned. She’s soft yet powerful, timid and sensual. On the late standout, “IN THE MIST,” she becomes nature to wield it: “I’m like the rain / I’m like the clouds,” she howls. She’s the vapour that calls to be inhaled, the water that demands to be drowned in, she’s love and lust in equal measures.
Listen here: Apple Music // Spotify
25. Astro Bunny - Should Have Let Go
With Should Have Let Go, the electronic duo have reached a new state of enlightenment, incorporating warm analog synths to their brittle, cybertronic beats. Astro Bunny’s ninth album takes their most mature, multifaceted stance on loneliness yet, carefully contrasting relationships that should have lasted forever against the ones that were cut short.
Listen here: Apple Music // Spotify
24. Lei Yuxin - Roche Limit
Young pop artists are expected to be versatile nowadays. Is it enough to have vocal chops? Is it worth anything? Maybe only if you can launch into a dancefloor anthem befitting the diva status and pull out a heart-wrenching ballad. Roche Limit features this kind of assortment of songs, traversing indie pop, jazzy ballads, and more, but it’s Lei Yuxin’s voice that carries it. She fights against the toplines and production, forcing a melody into a rush of emotions and breaking down a UK Garage beat to cry in the bathroom. The Roche limit is the safe distance for two celestial bodies, any closer and gravity will tear the smaller apart. An apt title for an album where its vocalist always feels like she’s on the verge of being destroyed by her feelings.
Listen here: Apple Music // Spotify
23. Shelhiel - SuperKiss: A
Malaysian dance-pop phenom Shelhiel produces sugar-sweet pop songs that’ll make your heart flutter and dance tracks built around a lurching bass that’ll have you drunkenly shouting out the DJ. The first installment of his latest project, SuperKiss, is often both: “Love, Repeat” finds an angelic pairing with New York-based FiFi Zhang, the two stuttering as they intimately mirror one another over a honeyed UK Garage beat, while the kimj and Mulan Theory co-produced “不得不爱” (“Can’t Help Being in Love”) tosses a fistful of nostalgic longing into an all-night manyao mix.
Listen here: Apple Music // Bandcamp // Spotify
22. ShawtySweeat - 来往世界
Clocking in just a little shy of an hour and a half, the twenty-four-track 来往世界 (Come and Go World) is a dizzying psychedelic trip. It should be utterly incoherent, but ShawtySweeat introduces the world between his verses through samples of vaguely familiar melodies, fragments of advice and argument, and at one point, the sound of someone vomiting. These bridge his countless flow changes and vocal switch-ups. 来往世界 can feel like an exercise in what can be wrung from the voice and not until a third of the way through does he really introduce his own amateurish singing by smearing his syllables together in off-key melodies. Soft jazz instrumentation, folk melodies, and Afropop rhythms, he stains them all across its soupy canvas.
Listen here: Spotify
21. Losty - Dusty*
Give Losty a numbing agent or an upper, whatever’s in your bag. Maybe some love, if you’ve got any. On Dusty*, the CyberMade founder is constantly begging for a pill that can make his heartbeat match the tempo of the club or make his head dissolve into the haze. His songs are surprisingly textured: on “口口犬,” squeaky midwest emo guitar riffs and live percussion layer over glitchy bubblegum cellphone ringtones. “Even I can’t understand myself / I’m afraid of my own nothingness,” he sobs; at his lowest, Losty’s melodies are still curiously sweet as he breaks down the sounds to their simplest tones.
Listen here: Apple Music // Spotify
20. J-Fever, Eddie Beatz & Zhou Shijue - 你的声音变了
Most immediate about the trio’s third and final installment of their collaborative series is how each modifies their voice. Rappers J-Fever and Zhou Shijue adopt exaggerated mannerisms, while producer Eddie Beatz’s usual jazz loops are off-kilter. But then the pair of rappers reflect on each other: “you don’t sound quite the same.” They respond by each attempting to recreate their usual selves. Just as friendly, funny, and warm as their other albums, 你的声音变了 (You Sound Different) searches for something you recognize in another, along with something another might recognize in yourself.
Listen here: Apple Music // Spotify
19. Tales in Murmur - Tales in Murmur
On “Beside ‘Shui,’” Tales in Murmur sketch an image of the nearby waterbed: the cello is the flowing river, the percussion is the shimmering dew, the double bass is the soft footfall, and the rest of the orchestra fills out the sound and colour of nature. Never too neat, there’s an irregularity to their performances, mimicking the rough edges of their scenery, the fickle motion of the current. A fairly unconventional set-up consisting of Lin Meng-hsuan on guitar, Huang Chieh on accordion, and Lee Donghee on double bass, the trio’s self-titled debut sketches the dynamic movement of the environment as it unfurls in and out of your view.
Listen here: Apple Music // Spotify
18. Drogas - 這張EP叫…卡
Finally, Drogas is ready to let loose. That initial twinkling piano melody sounds a lot like the producer’s usual bedroom ballads, but it’s a fake-out before his manic episode begins—even as he’s swallowed into the vortex of its thumping house beat, he bears a shit-eating grin each time he utters, “I’m going down!” 這張EP叫…卡 (This EP Is Called… Buffering) is a long-overdue reassessment of the singer’s vices: he cuts off the leeches, quits the drugs, and decides he’ll chase the sympathetic girl. Shades of emo are replaced with overblown hyperpop, swapping out downcast for pounding Y2K beats and cartoonish guitars, 這張EP叫…卡 is all carbonated fizz and irrepressible mirth.
Listen here: Apple Music // Spotify
17. Chen Jingfei - The Truth and Fiction of a Crimson Heart
On album number two, Chen Jingfei trades her smoky, sprawled-out dream pop for a more theatrical vision. She’s no longer the passive narrator waiting by the window but casts herself as the main character, whose longing is punctuated with the pleasure of heaven and carries the shortness of breath of a woman submitting to her lust—even when she superimposes herself on others, like the disco strut of “Seize the Night, My Girl,” a reference to Japanese novelist Morimi Tomihiko’s 2006 The Night Is Short, Walk on Girl. She recalls the past, but Chen is no longer some old fantasy. The Truth and Fiction of a Crimson Heart is more varied, more textured and Chen’s voice is more alive, flitting with intense emotions. On “After a Many Summer Dies the Swan,” named after the 1939 novel by English writer Aldous Huxley, she hums: “I create my own fate,”a casual but firm refusal of the notion that she’s someone else’s dream.
Listen here: Apple Music // Spotify
16. Ghost Crew - 迷失街头
Beijing rap trio Ghost Crew—MCs Soulryapsow, Dove4Rasta, and Sitong—don’t have great ambitions. There’s a heavy rhythm to their rapping as they labour over old-school beats, nothing but the occasional waft of a jazz melody or a scratchy sample of a voice. The city hasn’t made complete pessimists out of them yet, and on “蝴蝶武士” (“Butterfly Warrior”), they call the city a prison, but still believe your heart could change it. Once the hustlers, the bodyguards, the men who could only be loved in the secret, Ghost Crew’s only fight on 迷失街头 (Lost Streets) is in its struggle for survival.
Listen here: Spotify
15. Jude Chiu - Jude Chiu
The life Jude Chiu creates on his self-titled third album has a voracious appetite. Tracing its slow development of a toddler and the rapid descent into death, he savours every stimulant, like the swath of colours that arrive as he first opens his eyes or the vibration of his throat as his vocalizations begin to take meaning. But it isn’t nearly enough. With showman flair and jazz theatre flourishes, Chiu hungers and yearns and pines. For more flavours, for more lovers, for more time, even when he has nothing left to offer in return. Down goes the curtain and here comes the lesson: want harder, crave more, satisfy those desires; anyway, everything will fade to dust and bone.
Listen here: Spotify
14. Zheng Xing - The Basin
For Museum of Tears, Zheng Xing explored how connection can be confining: its seaside dwelling found people coming and going, but their memories left the singer reluctant to move forward. The second album in his trilogy inspired by French philosopher Gaston Bachelard’s La poétique de l’espace is concerned with migration and how spaces can form relationships. How despite living in a bustling community, the heart can belong to another city; how the mountains can create bonds and share hardships. On The Basin, the singer’s heart grows lighter with each trek, mirrored by the way the rock-inflected arrangements diminish to airy chamber folk. For the migratory bird, introductions and farewells aren’t restrictive, but prosperous events.
Listen here: Apple Music // Spotify
13. Mola Oddity - The Other Side of Hope
After retiring from Taiwanese pop stardom and moving to Beijing in 2019, Amber Kuo couldn’t just stop creating. Her following solo effort, Vol. 13-1986 The Journey of Sleepless Sheep worked an interest in language as texture through her new sound. As part of trio Mola Oddity, she pivots again, using music as a response to her obsession with movies, the album’s name taken from the 2017 film by Finnish director Aki Kaurismäki. Kuo is frighteningly direct here: “when was the last time you had a good cry?” she asks and repeats on the opener, her stare unwilling to let you escape the question. The Other Side of Hope is uncanny and enthralling, with production alongside bandmates Yider and Asr who deliver eerie soundscapes and hints of menace buried in theur whimsical melodies and irregular rhythms. It’s a triumphant new beginning for the artist. Let the Amber Kuo renaissance begin.
Listen here: Apple Music // Bandcamp // Spotify
12. ODD - GRANDSTAND
GRANDSTAND tosses everything at the wall. ODD has got a million ideas and they’re all worth putting out there: he’ll smear autotune over snide raps, chant in Hungarian, and let the clang of metal against metal clash with the glissando of cheap, twinkly keys—and that’s just the first song. The artist carries himself like he’s at the top, sneering at a world on fire, and he lets both his voice and production add to the pandemonium, warping an acoustic guitar with glitchy electronic beeps and head-banging club beats, shredding and distorting a high-pitched sing-along before he can erupt into a scream. As GRANDSTAND closes, he gives himself one final, triumphant, miniature epic, building up a stadium sing-along before he pumps his fist in the air and dives into the crowd to savour his own chaos.
Listen here: Apple Music // Spotify
11. Jiao Maiqi - At the Pool
After years of dreaming about what it could feel like, At the Pool makes clear that Jiao Maiqi has finally experienced love. The singer attempts to once again define the emotion on his third album, roughly sketching something that feels more authentic yet especially fragile. These songs are the fireworks and sunset of a private relationship, the unsaid longing to stay an extra night in a rented room, the maddening frustration that takes over after a lover has moved their things out of your apartment. Jiao often sings in a hushed voice over the crystalline ballads, as if he’s one awkward blunder from making it disappear. Perhaps he’s right—sometimes all you’re left with are some bittersweet memories, pictures not included. But the whimsical side of Jiao illustrates the epilogue with his characteristic fascination for the extraordinary; ever the optimist, At the Pool is a document of first love well worth treasuring into adulthood.
Listen here: Apple Music // Spotify
10. Jiafeng - Early Technologies
Like much of hyperpop’s former vanguard, Jiafeng has turned his attention to the world of alt-rock, melting scorching guitar melodies into his digital sludge. The producer tests the sides to new limits: he shreds a guitar tweaked to sound like some novelty children’s toy for his eccentric pop-punk anthem and elsewhere, combines acerbic bubbles and sloppy, clamorous metalwork to scorch your face off. He delights in chaos—most thrilling is the grungy distortion and breakbeats of “dice life,” where six options to upend his life are viewed with glee. On Early Technologies, he’ll do anything to get out of the dullness, hurling vicious warnings at teasing partygoers or causing a scene in the supply room just to disrupt the nine-to-five. Our mundane routines can be physically painful, so why not smash some fucking shit, take a goddamn break, and live a little?
Listen here: Apple Music // Bandcamp // Spotify
9. misi Ke - BE GOOD
“Okay,” misi Ke huffs at the top of “Next Chapter,” before making a promise, “I’ve decided that in the future, no matter what difficulties, sorrowful problems, or unattainable things, I’ll face them with a positive attitude.” Ke’s voice is so child-like and so bright- and wide-eyed that it comes across as an honest assessment, like she’s an explorer ready to find the love buried in every fragment. Ke’s fourth album, BE GOOD, is made up of two separate sides: to sunrise, marked with the desire to live fully in every moment and filled with vivid depictions of the singer grasping at love; while to moonset contains inward reflections that test her startling sense of optimism with trickier scenarios. BE GOOD of course spotlights Ke’s optimism—girlish and bewitching, her voice is a powerfully magnetic force—but her arrangements are just as beautiful, a trove of treasure that makes clear there’s still love at the bottom of any barrel. And if not, she’ll find it in the next one.
Listen here: Apple Music // Spotify
8. babyMINT - Loading… FUN!
Loading… FUN! is a compilation of stages performed by babyMINT between July and October of last year, the nine-member group squeezing out ten thrilling tracks in fewer weeks. Survival shows are about testing concepts and experimenting with line-ups, but has anything ever been quite as outlandish as the group’s finale? Here, they split into trios arriving on a new planet as cute fairies, cool warriors, and Disney princesses, theme to 2001: A Space Odyssey and full-throated screams included. It’s babyMINT to exaggerated effect, but it’s just as strong proof as any of their status as the best Chinese idol group of all-time. Producer A.F acts as the group’s visionary, filtering trendy sounds like drum ‘n’ bass, Brazilian funk, Jersey club, and 2-step through his eccentric vision. He packs the album with oddball production choices and stubbornly enduring hooks, occasionally drafting thrilling change-ups that’ll spin your head into orbit. The vision extends to the group’s lyrics, zany and laughable, without sacrificing on their intent to seize every opportunity and Loading… FUN! often makes good on their promises of a new era and to evolve hand-in-hand into the future. Charming, funny, and full of surprises, babyMINT will set your heart on fire.
Listen here: Apple Music // Spotify
7. Mantha Ye - INFATUATED
Throughout Mantha Ye’s debut EP are the sensations of the club: the warm imprint left on your skin as sweaty bodies bump against you, the dizziness that overtakes your mind when the shots start to take over, and the look your ex gives when you both know you’re about to do something that will irritate your friends. INFATUATED might cram hooks over the deafening beats, but her voice never feels bigger than the dim-lighting and cramped space: a faint, heady mewl over the UK Garage beat of “SURRENDER” and unintelligible drunken whines over drum ‘n’ bass breaks. In pursuit of immediate pleasure, even its slower moments are a combination of firm rhythm against soft whispers that feel like they’ve moved to a private location. It’s a pattern she’s grown accustomed to and on “KNOW MY NAME,” she hits the club again to make eyes at another hot stranger from the corner.
Listen here: Apple Music // Spotify
6. Vansdaddy & LusciousBB - 牛窝坑之子
Like his poet father before him, Vansdaddy is the son of Niuwokeng, a rural region where your greatest aspiration is often just to get out. 牛窝坑之子 (Son of Niuwokeng) often feels more like skit than song as he documents his struggle to leave the hole. Producer LusciousBB and Vansdaddy pile on the samples; one track opens with a sing-song frog-voice interpolation of “I Just Can’t Wait to Be King,” another with the woodwind melody from King Crimson’s “I Talk to the Wind.” Perhaps the most ridiculous combination comes on “勇敢的人先享受铁窗” (“Brave People Are the First to Enjoy Barred Windows”), where they combine samples of Stevie Wonder’s “Superstition,” the theme song to Breaking Bad, and a BBK learning device. 牛窝坑之子 isn’t without its smart moments, but Vansdaddy’s such a funny character that you can’t wait to see what dumb shit he gets into next. The closer finds him settled down, but leaves a wink in its promise of return: “I haven’t made any money, but I’m living happily,” he promises, before ending the broadcast by ripping the saxophone from a cheesy CCTV jingle.
Listen here: Spotify
5. Leah Dou - In the Air
When you live your life in the air, your relationships must inevitably contend with absence. Despite being preoccupied with her own want and guilt as a frequent flier, Leah Dou exacts the complexities of long-distance: the awkwardness of leaving after an unresolved fight and all you can manage is a short “thanks for thinking of me, don’t forget to water the flowers” text; hating yourself for missing someone as their trust in you breaks down. In the Air features some of Dou’s sharpest songwriting: she’s reined in her tendency to let groove define a song and even her jazzy experiments are built around pop structures with hooks that land with force. Her and co-producer Ernest Choi’s arrangements have become incredibly lush—just listen for the pedal steel that arrives with the climax of the title track, backing the swell of emotions as she sings, “in the air, writing a song you love.” Not exactly a resolution, but consider it an apology from a girl who’s still figuring out when and where she’d like to land.
Listen here: Apple Music // Spotify
4. L8ching - South Expedition
During his tour of southeast Asia, L8ching wanted to take more than just memories. He set out to craft an album, bringing with him an international team of musicians and recording personnel, but the final product involves more Taiwanese acts in addition to artists local to his tour stops, including Thailand, Indonesia, and the Philippines. Recording wasn’t confined to a studio either. Across South Expedition, he weaves field recordings of natural scenery like the caves of Cebu and densely populated areas like Manila’s markets. These shape the songs, with the drummer letting the environment set the rhythm, while his lyrics are concerned with all the senses: the fragrant aroma of spices, the textures of dusty air and clear water. South Expedition is a collage-like travelogue that documents the region’s beautiful sights. Occasionally, it captures the one beside as L8ching glances over with such a tender look that scenery seems to pale in comparison.
Listen here: Apple Music // Spotify
3. Wen Zhaojie - My Sunny Heart
Wen Zhaojie is a prophet and his second album, My Sunny Heart, is built like a private amphitheatre for his readings. His hypnagogic folk songs are suspended in some alien space that reimagines western and Chinese traditionalism closely incorporated, with pentatonic scales and celebratory metallic percussion shot through the sunshine pop instrumentation. My Sunny Heart is concerned with how love could flourish over time, but like any fortune reading, the words are ambiguous as they allude to the future with more than a hint of malice. On the easygoing “Remember Forever,” the singer ties love and hate together. Yet while the cards may be filled with spite, the singer sees bliss in their images: “we’ll be together until death,” he sings in a warm falsetto over the breezy waltz rhythm, “just like this, happy until death.” The size of the sound is a reminder of its intimacy, his voice completely uninhibited as it trails to the edges of its private expanse. In Wen’s music is a careful reassurance, one that never paints this happiness or union as something that could disappear so easily.
Listen here: Apple Music // Spotify
2. Wang Yiling - Ode to Wither
You’re supposed to have it figured out by the time you reach young adulthood—a dream career in the works; an apartment decorated to your taste—but it’s increasingly rare that you’ll find anyone like that. Enter Wang Yiling, who on the surface appears to have it all figured out, but then sings about burning into oblivion, the note of death immense and powerful. Ode to Wither, Wang’s debut album, has such ferocity that it feels cold and remote, disconnected from modern cities. Her voice is a compelling instrument and the orchestral arrangements are equally so; used together, they pack the intensity of anguish behind her pain. With magnificent swells of sounds and stomach-turning drops, Ode to Wither is dynamic, constantly subject to mutation: on “士兵” (“Soldier”), what becomes a sparse worker song eventually flips completely on its head once more as she creates a singer-songwriter version of prog-rock. Death is gruesome, arriving with shrieks and squeals of strings and woodwinds, before settling into the image of a newborn child, the soldier reborn in a cradle. The ends of the cycle are connected, both parts violently cold and beautiful. Change is such a brutal and gripping force all across Ode to Wither.
Listen here: Apple Music // Spotify
1. Zhang Xingchan - No, no!
Realizing her twenties were almost halfway over, Zhang Xingchan gave herself a deadline. She put a pause on all the background noise to fulfill an old promise, only taking the odd part-time tutoring gig, and told herself she’d release an album in one hundred fifty-six days. The result is No, no! an experiment brimming with a myriad of different styles and genres, an investigation into the complexity of young adulthood, a record filled with her bright, mesmerizing personality, and a hell of a good time. But it almost didn’t happen. At least according to her—on “I Was Behind You When He Sang ‘縁切寺’”—referring to an archival rarity cover by Japanese musician Ozaki Yutaka—she admits, “I gave up on making this album several times.”
What a loss that might’ve been. Reviews have clamoured to fit the Wuhan-based musician into the shape of, well, basically any other musician—the most frequent comparison has been to Shiino Ringo for the pair’s common interest in jazz-inflected rock and their similarly jagged pronunciation of language—but No, no! is extensive in breadth, impossible to really pin down. She’ll jump from bouncy math pop melodies to jazzy big-band showtune, from lounge-y diss track to glitched-out instrumental hip-hop. Her voice stretches across limits: childish and desperate as she speaks to someone over the phone; calm, level-headed narration as she jabs, “you’re a cheap plate / but you think you’re precious / you think you’re real,” against a powerful rock instrumental; and absolutely electric on “From A to Z,” spitting and screaming her words as she curls her voice into piercing yelps and quasi-rapped cadences. On “We Presume to—Learn the Whole of Love—,” she stretches her voice thin over its dreamy ambience and finger-plucked guitar. “The Sun couldn’t melt me,” she hums, “but you could,” the final word repeated over and over as if she’s challenging you to drink her in when that happens.
Zhang Xingchan refuses to conform. No, no! presents vignettes that can often feel like survival more than living, depicting a man who consistently works overtime only to pause and question what the hell he’s doing it for or a group of strangers on the bus staring blankly at their phones. To this, Zhang jolts them awake with noise: guitar frisson, brassy instrumental solos, even the sound of cars honking. She knows the path she should take, but meets it with steadfast refusal—that would be too goddamn stifling. On the spitfire “Bruised? Not Enough!” she rocks harder in the face of failure: “you got a fever after being caught in the rain so you’re not going to wake up?” she screams, the “so what” of it all curling right off her lips. Musicians and fans alike expressed creative anxiety after the album’s release but this belief of superiority and inferiority, ability and lack thereof is something Zhang outright rejects. Survival is enough of a slog, but on No, no! she advocates that to really live, the body must create.
Listen here: Apple Music // Bandcamp // Spotify
Find a selection of highlights on Spotify.
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