Every track stands out, and it’s hard to pick favourites. It feels wrong to pick favourites when the album references some of the events that have shaken America over the past year. Hands Up is a clear reference to Trayvon Martin’s killing. Throughout the record, Dev Hynes (the man behind Blood Orange) shares his thoughts on blackness, the hood, and whether or not black people should wear hoods when they walk the streets.

It’s a powerful record. “Are you okay?” Hynes asks on the afore-mentioned Hands Up. The answer seems obvious. At the end of Thank You, a brief vocal moment says: “Let me tell you what it’s all about. A skin not considered equal. A meteor has more right than my people.” It hits hard.

At other times, it’s clear that Hynes is writing music for affected black women. The intro track captures a powerful vocal performance from a black woman trying to understand how to respect herself, how to understand who she is. These moments pop up on occasion throughout the record, and it’s clear that Hynes frequently for women.

I was thinking about it and wondering why he did that, and found myself wondering if approaching blackness from a woman’s perspective allows him to embrace the vulnerability his music requires. Whatever the reason, it’s a powerful approach that works and elevates his music to another level of sophistication and intelligence.

The music is great, too: But You and Desirée are two of my favourite tracks, even though they feel like they take inspiration from totally different parts of music’s sphere. Juice 1–4 has a tone that feels almost tropical in nature. Best to You’s vocal acrobatics is a phenomenal exercise in pop styling. Augustine is a great first single.

But despite juggling all these musical influences, every track comes out the other end feeling decidedly like a Blood Orange sound. Freetown Sound is music you make when you’re confident in yourself as an artist, aware of your place and your style, and willing to give your record a meaning and texture.

I don’t know where Freetown Sound lands among the year’s best records yet, but I have a feeling it might be near the top when the year is said and done. It’s certainly one of the year’s most important, especially given the tragic and horrific events of the past week.

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This attitude is still a big part of their new record, Summer 08. It’s a record that feels like it’s defying many of the genre’s practitioners. It continues down a similar path to Love Letters, which was a huge success (in my books) because it embraced psychedelic rock within the electronic genre.

Summer 08 takes the band closer to electronic pop than ever before, embracing funk on the way, but it doesn’t feel like it’s a last-ditch effort to “go mainstream.” Actually, while the band feels more mainstream despite themselves, they still don’t seem concerned with following genre conventions.

I love the opening track: Back Together is a spastic, alt-rock inspired, Chromeo-like song that’ll get you tapping your feet. Even some of the more “pop” tracks, like the relatively low-key Hang Me Out To Dry, feels like it’s got just enough of an off-beat to it to defy mainstream convention and embrace Metronomy’s odd side.

Summer Jam feels like it’s been lifted straight from corny ’80s movies, even while it slowly spirals out and into itself again before it closes the record. Night Owl sounds inspired by the indie bands du jour, and Metronomy manages to make it their own despite doing their best Arcade Fire impression.

It’s hard to make logical, reasoned arguments for what makes Summer 08 such a good record. I’m struggling for words, because all I can say is that I have an involuntary emotional attachment to the record. I just like it, and it’s as simple as that. There’s no real criticism I can levy at it, because something about it stirs my soul and I enjoy it. If, by recommending it, you can have a modicum of the joy I get from the record, then I think I’ve done my job. Summer 08 is, in my eyes, a great record with sterling production, great ideas, and some fantastic ideas. Metronomy still surprises me every time.

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I feel the album truly kicks off with Speaking Gently (although And That, Too is a good warmup). There’s a clear chorus, beautiful solos throughout, and a sense of forward motion that forces you to sit up and take notice. Even when the album is playing in the background, you know when Speaking Gently is on. It’s pure jazz.

BADBADNOTGOOD isn’t some sort of jazz throwback, though. These guys are carving their own path, and they’re doing it with really great guest moments. Sam Herring’s guest performance on Time Moves Slow elevates the track, but Kaytranada’s spot on Lavender feels like a game-changer. His electronic movements support the band at all time, and fit in well with their jazzy modus operandi without overwhelming them — but his parts also add a certain amount of texture that’s absolutely blissful.

These guest spots, even though they’re not strictly jazzy, feel like they imbibe the genre’s playful experimentation and delight in surprise.

Even Hyssop of Love, which features rapper Mick Jenkins spitting vocal lines on the track, feels like jazzy moment. So much hip hop comes from jazz, and it’s neat to see them play well together. As the single hip hop track on the record, it feels out of place and it slows the momentum, but it’s also this oddly refreshing moment that occasionally recalls the best in jazz rap — like A Tribe Called Quest, Kendrick, and De La Soul.

IV, the title track, feels the most traditional on the record. For a moment, I thought I was listening to a cover of a Bitch’s Brew track. It’s all over the place and wild, and it feels as authentic as jazz can be.

For BADBADNOTGOOD, this record feels like a statement solidifying their place as some of the best — and trendiest — jazz players alive right now. IV is a monument to the genre, and one that fans and non-fans alike will love.

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Wildflower has been in production since 2005, and shares much of the same spirit of their 2000 debut. The plunderphonics style, where the band makes their music almost entirely out of samples, is still alive and well — although the band is definitely relying on it a little less this time around. But the tracks where they stick by that style are among their best.

I love Because I’m Me and Frankie Sinatra (the first single). I think the hip hop styles on the record are really fun, and it reminds me a lot of Beastie Boys — but in a positive way.

Unlike Since I Left You, Wildflower feels like it’s largely based on the 1960s counter-cultural movement, with a lot of samples dating from that period. (At one point, The Avalanches were reportedly making a Yellow Submarine-inspired video, but the funding fell through and the music never saw the light of day. The closest we might get to that sound is Livin’ Underwater (Is Somethin’ Wild).) Even If I Was a Folkstar, which samples Queens of the Stone Age, feels suitably retro.

If Wildflower has a single flaw, it’s its length. At twenty-one tracks (twenty-two if you include the extended mix of Frankie Sinatra), the album isn’t easily digestible. With albums of this running time, I always feel that the band could have done some trimming — and I still feel that’s the case here, even if the trimming would have amounted to cutting the briefer interludes.

When The Avalanches aren’t making interludes, there’s a sense of forward movement to the record that’s absolutely delightful. The Wozard of Iz has a really great sample, and an undeniable sense of momentum.

By the time the album concludes with Saturday Night Inside Out (which samples Father John Misty), I feel both exhausted and enlightened. The Avalanches have made a statement with Wildflower: one that says they’re still the kings of samples and partying, but one that also says they’re aware of where they come from. It’s essential music from one of Australia’s best bands.

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The lead singer, Miles Arntzen, put on a heckuva show. He was practically manic: he played an upright, standing drum kit centre stage, pounding it with a palpable degree of ferocity. The bassist head banged through every track, but in the sort of dancey way that you might laugh at if you saw a friend do it.

The sax and trumpet player can’t stop dancing, wiggling on stage like they’re at an EDM show. The percussionist in the back has all the excitement of a DJ who’s really into the tunes. This show was messy, and the band wasn’t as tight as they maybe could have been, but it didn’t matter. It was an explosion of energy — one of the best lives shows I’ve ever seen.

That energy isn’t necessarily captured on their debut self-titled record, but the incredible music is. Emefe is straight out of New York, so their Vampire Weekend-inspired Afrobeat sound is almost familiar, but the way they layer in jazz and funk makes it feel like a whole different gig.

Same Thing is one of the moments on record where it feels like they manage to capture as much of their energy as a recording can handle, and their jazzy style is on full display. The keyboardist is oozing psychedelics, and the trumpet and sax are out in full force. Not to mention that the music is delightfully weird, and oddly danceable.

The One isn’t dissimilar: the guitar lays down a nice, groovey riff, the vocal line makes for a nice sing along, by and the time the song is over, the whole band is jamming over a gnarly riff that’s simply divine.

I also love Sun Spat, which might be my favourite track on the record. I love the way that the instruments interact with the off-beats of the drums. It’s cool stuff, even if it “feels” musically wrong. It’s an incredible track, played with power, delivered with gravitas.

The following track, Summer, feels nearly traditional by comparison. But it’s clear, at this point in the record, that Emefe is all about defying convention. I love the way the song slowly builds up, in a manner that feels reminiscent of some of the great funk of yesteryear. Plus, that guitar riff (and the surrounding instrumentation) about a minute and a half into the song is plain old delightful.

Every member of this eight-piece band feels important, and necessary. Even if the music isn’t your cup of tea, if it’s too avant-garde for you, they’re a band you need to see live the next time they’re in town. They’ll make a fan out of you yet with their incredible live show — among the most energetic and exciting I’ve ever seen.

I can’t recommend Emefe highly enough, and I cannot wait to see where they go next.

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