Not On Stage’s Staff Favorite Albums of the Year

Every year, music gives us soundtracks for who we were, who we became, and who we’re still becoming. This year’s Not On Stage staff picks reflect emotional risk-taking, genre collisions, pop reinvention, and fearless honesty. From arena-sized pop moments to raw underground energy, these are the albums that defined our listening.

the Life of a Showgirl — Taylor Swift

Drenched in spotlights and shadow, Life of a Showgirl transforms fame into both costume and confession. Swift leans into high drama, weaving glossy pop spectacle with moments of stark emotional unraveling, exploring identity, performance, and the quiet loneliness that exists behind the curtain.

Who’s the Clown? — Audrey Hobert

On Who’s the Clown?, anxiety spirals into satire and self-destruction becomes dark humor. Audrey Hobert weaponizes honesty with jittery production and painfully self-aware lyrics, creating a record that feels like laughing through dissociation at a party that’s gone on too long.

Man’s Best Friend — Sabrina Carpenter

Flirty, cutting, and surgically precise, Man’s Best Friend is Sabrina Carpenter at her sharpest. Beneath the glossy hooks and sugar-rush choruses lies a biting commentary on power, desire, and emotional survival, wrapped in irresistibly polished pop.

Beautiful Chaos — KATSEYE

True to its name, Beautiful Chaos thrives in emotional whiplash—euphoria colliding with confusion at full velocity. KATSEYE channels the turbulence of identity, pressure, and growing up under bright lights into explosive pop moments that feel both desperate and defiant.

Virgin — Lorde

Sparse, sacred, and emotionally naked, Virgin feels like stepping into a confessional lit only by moonlight. Lorde abandons excess in favor of spiritual reckoning, crafting a record about rebirth, fear, and the terrifying beauty of becoming someone new.

Addison — Addison Rae

Bright, glossy, and unexpectedly intimate, Addison reframes internet fame through the lens of genuine pop ambition. Beneath the bubblegum production is a quiet hunger for credibility, vulnerability, and emotional permanence in a world built on spectacle.

EUSEXUA — FKA twigs

EUSEXUA feels like devotion you can dance to—physical, spiritual, and strangely transcendent. FKA twigs dissolves the boundaries between body and soul, club and cathedral, desire and surrender, crafting an album that feels ritualistic rather than recreational.

Forever Is a Feeling — Lucy Dacus

Soft as breath but heavy as truth, Forever Is a Feeling captures the slow ache of loving deeply when you know nothing lasts. Lucy Dacus writes in quiet devastation, where every lyric feels like a private realization you weren’t meant to overhear.

LUX — Rosalía

LUX shimmers with danger and divinity, fusing flamenco roots, industrial noise, and futuristic pop into something untouchably radiant. Rosalía sounds fearless here—challenging tradition while honoring it, creating music that feels both ancient and alien.

UNTETHERED — 40 Below Summer

UNTETHERED rips open emotional restraint with distortion, fury, and catharsis at full volume. Every track feels like confrontation—of self, of trauma, of survival—turning anger into something brutally alive and necessary.

I Quit — HAIM

Cool, controlled, and quietly devastating, I Quit captures the exhaustion that follows emotional revolution. HAIM trades impulsive fire for measured reflection, documenting burnout, detachment, and the relief that comes with finally letting go.

Getting Killed — Geese

Messy, feral, and exhilarating, Getting Killed sounds like a band actively fighting the shape of rock music itself. Geese weaponizes chaos, turning fragmentation and distortion into a thrilling refusal to be tamed.

Willoughby Tucker, I’ll Always Love You — Ethel Cain

This album unfolds like a haunted love story buried in heat and dust, where devotion and doom become inseparable. Ethel Cain’s voice feels both tender and possessed, telling a tragedy that lingers long after the final note fades.

Idols — YUNGBLUD

Idols is noisy, theatrical, and emotionally exposed—a collision between ego and emptiness. YUNGBLUD interrogates fame, worship, and self-destruction with arena-sized chaos and startling vulnerability beneath the noise.

Inertia — grandson

Tense and paranoid, Inertia pulses with political anxiety and emotional suffocation. grandson turns stagnation into sonic explosion, crafting a record that feels like being trapped inside the pressure of the modern world.

Still — Malcolm Todd

Muted, intimate, and emotionally suspended, Still exists in the quiet space between longing and acceptance. Malcolm Todd lets silence speak just as loudly as sound, creating songs that feel like late-night confessions whispered into pillows.

Coming Up for Air — Chandler Leighton

Coming Up for Air feels like surfacing after emotional drowning—panicked breaths, shaking hands, and sudden clarity. Chandler Leighton captures heartbreak and healing in real time, allowing vulnerability to exist without polish or apology.