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July is when the soundtrack of the summer really takes shape. A lot of new music has dropped, so let’s skip the long intro and dive straight into what happened in the music world this month.

And you can shape your summer soundtrack with our companion playlists on Spotify and Tidal.


New Album

Courtesy of Kokoroko.

Kokoroko – Tuff Times Never Last

Three years after their debut Could We Be More, the second album by the London-based collective Kokoroko already feels like a moment of true affirmation. Tuff Time Never Last – dropped via Brownswood Recordings – is a dense, layered, yet sincere and heartfelt record.

The title – originally inspired by a viral social media meme that soon turned into a deeper reflection – perfectly captures the contradictions of daily life and social relationships that informed the band’s songwriting: togetherness, community, sensuality, childhood, loss, and, above all, perseverance. Personal journeys and a sense of community intertwine, echoing themes we’ve also seen explored just last month by another musical collective, Mourning [A] BLKstar.

Musically, Kokoroko build on the dominant afrobeat of their debut by weaving in a wide palette of genres and influences: from the acid gospel of My Father in Heaven to the Ghanaian highlife of Just Can’t Wait, which also draws on jazz-funk textures. Some funky 1980s vibes resonate too in the gorgeous Together We Are, where once again the importance of collectivity shines through – reflected as well in the beautiful cover art, easily one of our favorites of the year so far, by the illustrator Luci Pina. A joyful, soul-soothing sonic experience – setting the stage for their big live show on 25 September at the O2 Academy Brixton in London. You’ve been warned.

Listen/Buy on Bandcamp.


Compilation

Courtesy of VV.AA.

VV.AA – Fantología I

Fantología I has all the hallmarks of the kind of projects we love: music that’s anything but obvious, crafted with care and attention to detail, inseparable from the social and cultural context of the artists behind it. Tracks that tell stories, carry memory and keep cultural legacies alive. 

Curated by artist Daniel Lofredo Rota – aka dj Quixosis, and the mind behind the revival of the lost 1960s Ecuadorian label Caife Records – alongside Gregorio Hernandez (aka dj+1), this compilation distills the shared histories and ghosts haunting Latin America in the 21st century. “Instead of mourning lost glories – a Global North obsession – we confront the specter of the failed state, chronic instability, and the fading promise of futures that may never arrive. We reflect on how to imagine the future in a society that’s constantly renegotiating its own, and how to live – even love – within that tension”. 

It features 17 tracks from artists across seven countries: Ecuador, Argentina, Peru, Mexico, Guatemala and the Dominican Republic. As the title hints there is Hauntology – as explored, among others, by Mark Fisher and Simon Reynolds – but with a distinctly Latin American spirit, where traditional sounds meet digital patterns and futuristic textures; ambient music where genres, traditions, and stories cross paths and recognize each other. Our picks? Encuentros Invisibles by Alina Labour, and El Viento lo Sabe by Alex Hentze – opening and closing the compilation. But don’t rush the journey in between. We’re already looking forward to Vol. II.

Listen/Buy on Bandcamp.



Single Track

    Damien Jurado – For Each Familiar Scene

    Writing about Damien Jurado is a pleasure, if always a bit strange. A pleasure because it feels like talking about an older brother who plays music: he’s close, familiar, and formative. Strange because, despite being a refined, prolific, and consistently evolving songwriter, he doesn’t get the success he deserves. For Each Familiar Scene, released on 10 July via Maraqopa Records, actually includes two tracks: the title track and Robin Oswald as She Appears in 1978. Jurado continues the retro-folk vibe of Motorcycle Madness (2023), but strips back the arrangements – fewer horns, more classic textures. As always, his production stands out: lush yet raw, experimental but grounded.

    For Each Familiar Scene starts with a slow organ and soft vocals, then shifts into a more upbeat rhythm with drums, claps, and layered harmonies. Robin Oswald as She Appears in 1978 opens with a ghostly female refrain – “Somedays, like any other day she said I won’t be coming around again, someday” – answered by Jurado in a Leonard Cohen-like murmur, before drifting into a dreamy, cinematic two-minute instrumental. No word yet on a new album, but these tracks suggest something is in the works.

    Listen/Buy on Bandcamp.



    Movie / Soundtrack

    Courtesy of Pavement.

    Pavement – Pavements (Original Motion Picture Soundtrack)

    At a time when films like Meet Me in the Bathroom are busy canonising and historicising the 2000s wave of indie rock – The Strokes, TV on the Radio, Yeah Yeah Yeahs and so on – here’s a film that quietly reminds us where it all really started: the original slacker blueprint for indie guitar bands, of which not much more than scraps remain today. Pavements (Original Motion Picture Soundtrack) is the companion to the film of the same name directed by Alex Ross Perry, which retraces the history of Steven Malkmus and his bandmates: a docu-fiction-biopic where, among other things, Pavement play themselves – something closer in spirit to Scorsese’s Rolling Thunder Revue than your standard rock doc.

    The soundtrack is what you’d expect from the band’s style: loose, patchy, sometimes brilliant, sometimes messy and gloriously all over the place – a collage of songs, dialogues and odd scraps from the film. The classics are there, of course, scattered between live takes, jukebox versions and precious rehearsal recordings. Not that Pavement ever cared much for chronology, nostalgia or neat endings – which is also why, after all these years, they still sit a cut above the rest.

    Listen/Buy on Bandcamp.



    New Album/2

    Courtesy of Wet Leg.

    Wet Leg – moisturizer

    With their second album moisturizer, Wet Leg take a bold step forward, trading in the scrappy charm of their 2022 debut for something deeper and more refined. While their signature wit remains, the new record leans into richer arrangements and emotional complexity, thanks in part to producer Dan Carey and a full band.

    Rhian Teasdale’s lyrics dive deeper into themes of queer love and vulnerability, especially on tracks like liquidize and pond song. The band’s expanded lineup – now a five-piece – adds power and complexity to the sound, with fuzzy guitars, fluid synths, and sharper rhythmic textures. Tracks like pokemon and catch these fists still carry the band’s signature wit, but there’s more weight behind the fun. Vocally, Teasdale moves between spoken-word sarcasm and raw melodic honesty. On Davina McCall, Teasdale blends bite and melody, with a vocal tone that hints at a punkier side of Weyes Blood while 11:21 shows this duality well, balancing humor with emotional punch. 

    While some moments echo the first record, moisturizer feels like a natural step forward – more mature, but still unmistakably “Wet Leg”. There’s charm, noise, feeling, and plenty of room to grow. It’s not a reinvention, but a levelling-up – proof that Wet Leg are here to stay. 

    Listen/Buy on Bandcamp.



    Video

    Pino Palladino, Blake Mills – Taka

    There’s always something special when two musicians connect. When it’s Pino Palladino and Blake Mills, the chemistry is next-level. The duo just announced their second album That Wasn’t A Dream, out on 22 August via New Deal / Impulse! Records, along with the first single and video.

    Taka plays less like a song and more like a conversation – fluid, precise, and melodically rich. A flute-like guitar dances around Palladino’s expressive bass, gradually building from a soft groove into a layered, hypnotic blend of textures. Chris Dave (D’Angelo Black Messiah and Adele’s 21) adds his unmistakable touch on drums, pushing the track toward a kind of kaleidoscopic funk. The album feels like a deepening of their creative dialogue. And while we wait for its release, the Taka video offers a window into their process, like being a fly in the rehearsal room, floating from one instrument to the next.




    Camillo Vegezzi is a freelance music writer based in Milan. He has collaborated with various music magazines and is a contributor to the cultural section of Il Manifesto. Read more of Camillo’s writing on Something Curated here.

    Lorenzo Villa is a writer and editor based in Milan. He writes about lifestyle for Harper’s Bazaar Italia and collaborates with the literary magazine Galápagos. Read more of Lorenzo’s writing on Something Curated here.


    Header image: Artwork by Luci Pina, courtesy of Kokoroko.

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