Summer’s Best, 2025

Preface: The first pass of this post was generated by NotebookLM from a 30-minute, podcast-style conversation that Annette and I had earlier today. Piloting the tool, we found it to be honestly pretty impressive at turning an iPhone voice memo into a polished per-album written summary that accurately recapped our remarks and avoided hallucination. I still did a thorough edit; one of the last things we humans have is taste.

Annette is visiting me at my parents’ house in South Carolina, and I’m sitting in the recliner, her with the cat, Bear, on the couch. We are conversing on the precicipe of December festivities—December 21st, to be exact—a few months removed from the times and musical consumptions that we’re sharing with eachother. It’s technically Fall, but that’s easier to assert in Charleston than in the snow I left in New York. This past season, Annette and I found ourselves in a state of geographical and musical flux; while I was exploring London and Cambridge and eventually settling into a new life in Brooklyn(!), Annette was introspecting on the beach and revisiting roots in El Salvador. We like to think of ourselves as musical soulmates (see earth and moles), and so we sat down to co-author this retrospective on the cuts that served as the soundtrack to our travels and our transitions.

Pink Floyd, Wish You Were Here (1975)

Annette rediscovered this classic while alone on a beach. She was struck by how timeless the record feels, specifically the “insanely good” guitar riffs on “Shine On You Crazy Diamond”. It’s a “no-skip masterpiece”, touching on the universal pillars of pain, suffering, and happiness. We also spent some time debating the recording quality of the 70s; there is a “crisp and clear” analog warmth to this era that hits differently than the autotuned “perfection” of modern pop, and is really hard to encapsulate.

Blood Orange, Essex Honey (2025)

I spent my summer in London for the first time, and I viewed this project through an anthropological lens, trying to absorb the cultural awareness of growing up in the UK. The album functions as an ensemble piece, featuring collaborations with Caroline Polachek and Lord. While I left London with mixed feelings, I fell in love with the countryside, which makes the track “Countryside” my definitive highlight. The record is at once funny and warm, evoking the specific, refreshing sensation of summer rain.

Maná, Amar Es Combatir (2006)

!!!REVISE!!! For Annette, this album is a pillar of nostalgia, originally introduced to her by her father. Listening to it on the beaches of El Salvador, she found herself re-immersed in the passionate energy of Spanish rock, a blend of rock, pop, and Latin rhythms. The lyrics are a study in heartbreak and betrayal, capturing the agony of fighting for someone who might not be worth the effort. As a signature album in the Hispanic community, it served as a vital connection to her roots during her travels.

Frost Children, SISTER (2025)

!!REVISE!! This sibling duo captures the indie-sleaze electronic scene that defines my new home in Brooklyn (Myrtle/Broadway). Tracks like ELECTRIC and the Kim Petras-assisted RADIO are high-intensity, but it’s the title track, SISTER that really caught my attention. It offers a sweet, unexpected look at their country roots—waiting for their father to come home from hunting—which created a beautiful tension with my own memories of turkey hunting with my dad. It’s a reminder that no matter how far we move toward the “future,” our cultural undertones remain.

New York, No Sleep Till N.Y. (2022)

Annette stumbled upon this hard-to-find-on-google duo (clocking in at around 60k listeners) and was immediately drawn to their “futuristic” and cool” energy. We proceeded to debate if music could be crafted to be ‘futuristic’— Donna Summer’s I Feel Love arrived at the conversation (if you know the lore, you know that this song was crafted to be the ‘future’ on an album full of cuts meant to sound like different decades). Their sound is sparsely electronic and occasionally dissonant, making it the ideal “walking music”. We have a massive amount of respect for the fact that they self-produce, creating sweet-titled tracks like “Ginger Candy” and “Lollipop” that hide a sharp, electronic edge.

Cardi B, Am I The Drama (2025)

Despite her being arguably a larger public figure than artist (w.r.t. public perception), I found myself drawn to Cardi B’s second record. As a quarter-Dominican living in New York, I appreciated her connection to the Bronx and her ability to keep moving despite industry drama. Musically, she takes curious risks; the bonus track “Don’t Do Too Much” sounds like it was pulled straight from a book neighboring the playbook of hyperpop producers like those for Bladee. Magnet, ErrTime, and Salute are other favorites.

Nilüfer Yanya, My Method Actor (2024)

Annette describes this as a sweet, psychedelic love album from the British singer-songwriter. It’s built on a strong electronic backbone and explores the intimacy of being “stuck in love”. Beyond the songwriting, Yanya is a talented guitarist, and the atmospheric tracks like “Call It Love” reminded Annette of warm summer nights. For her, the album’s greatest strength is its ability to immerse, turning even the simplest summer memories into something to be deeply grateful for.

Amaarae, Black Star (2025)

My final pick is a pivot into the innovative club and house scene, yet it maintains a level of sophistication in its instrumentation. Amaarae’s high-pitched, unique voice navigates themes that are unabashedly queer and pro-Black. This album feels like the interior of a New York club—places like Deluxe Flux—offering a type of innovation that is often excluded from more mainstream, “white gay” or “rich person” clubs. It is a bold, statements-heavy record from an artist who remains criminally underrated.