Consumer Guide: March, 2026

At the top: Aesop Rock, Buck 65, Masaka Kids Africana, and The Paranoid Style. Plus: The Cucumbers, Gogol Bordello, Madonna, Charli XCX, and Abdallah Oumbadougou's desert blues.

Aesop Rock: I Heard It's a Mess There Too (Rhymesayers Entertainment) Due to turn 50 in June, the alt-rapper christened or at least legally named Ian Bavitz comes bearing the largest vocabulary in all of hip-hop from Montauk Point to my Manhattan living room, self-evidently impressive from "Blood in my hair/Shit on my shoes/Spit on my shirt" to "Friends I hope you find what you need to find/So you can be the people you're supposed to be/And friends I hope that you talk that shit you talk if it helps you deprogram," and that's just a few examples. He's clearly got the kind of politics that could lead a bystander to hope he comes up with songs that transform rhymes into instruments of social change. But that's asking a lot, and this is a good place to start getting your hopes up. A

Buck 65: Do Not Bend (Vertices) "Proprietary drum breaks" that half-rhyme with "dietary fiber" assure yet again that the most verbose not to say literary rapper ever to emerge from Nova Scotia not to say anywhere else not only comes with irresistible lyrical quiddities but with the kind of strictly musical signature most great hip-hop does—not flow in this case, but its own marchlike groove or should I just say beat. From "What a load of absolute horseshit/I'm here to lay down the law and enforce it" to "Barracuda swim the seas polluted by computer junk/The Buddha monk devotes his waking hours to pursue the funk," you not only want to listen, you want to listen with your mind as well as your ears—especially with "I like to watch videos of babies wearing glasses for the first time" in between. A

The Cucumbers: As You Heard Me—Songs from "Hello George" (Life Force) Lightweight on principle for four decades, singer and songwriter Deena Shoshkes takes up the role of singer and songwriter Daisy Steinberg as she and her novelist husband Jon Fried release an album said to depend for its 16 delicate songs on a companion novel titled Hello George that's purchasable as a bound-paper object or download if you must. The book's "soundtrack" is their ninth and most fetching album. Both Hoboken-based Brown grads are a credit to the Ivy League and suburban bohemia. Hope that's still their son Jamie on drums. A

Gogol Bordello: We Mean It, Man (Casa Gogol) Abandoning the brief fling with New Order's Bernard Sumner that produced the coherent and uplifting "Solidarity," rock's greatest not to say only congregation of Ukrainian Gypsies is said here to "exist in a mystical realm/And nobody knows how it works." Harsh on their way to enraged, their title and to the extent possible their affect are copped from none other than the Sex Pistols with results that are simultaneously gripping and hard to take—so much so that I found myself seeking respite from none other than the cheerful Kharkiv cover band Selo I Ludy. A great combo. I recommend it. A MINUS

Madonna: Madame X—Music From the Theater Xperience (Live) (Warner '21) Recorded before an arena-scale crowd in Lisbon, where in 2017 Ms. Ciccone settled to assure one of her two sons the best soccer lessons money could buy, she sounds completely at home as by now she obviously is as she powers out her sixth live album, which she delivers almost entirely in English. "Be intelligent never let anyone destroy you," she tells her fans, and it's both clear they know exactly what the words mean and reason for hope they'll do what they can to put them to use. B PLUS

Masaka Kids Africana: Greatful (Masaka Kids Africana) The title is what it says on the internet-available cover(s) of this digital-only album, the most charming of the many musical spinoffs of the recommended and indeed superb documentary Masaka Kids Africana: A Rhythm Within, and nuts to the copy-editing tight-asses who stubbornly change it to Grateful. The original doc is very much worth seeking out, sez Dean Christgau, who is proud to actively enjoy both African kiddie music and aspirational Afropop and sorry to report he can't locate any physical CDs. The album is, no denying it, Cute with a capital C. Both members of my household listening panel, my tolerant wife and tough-minded daughter, agree it's a winner. Thanks to Netflix you're free to decide for yourselves. A

Abdallah Oumbadougou: Amghar: "The Godfather of Tuareg Music" Vol. 1 (Petaluma '24) Vinyl-mostly although it says here available digitally from Bandcamp, Spotify, and who knows where else, this 2024 double LP released four years after the 58-year-old North African guitar legend's death leans trancelike toward what is called for want of a more specific term desert blues. Long on groove and subtle on the polyrhythms, it's his musical legacy if anything is. Yes, it may trance you out. But not so's the multiple vocalists don't rouse you up. A MINUS

Anderson .Paak: Oxnard (Aftermath '18) Convincing hip-hop approximation of a nice if somewhat trippy plus horny middle-class fella ("Tints," "Brother's Keeper," "Trippy") ***

The Paranoid Style: Known Associates (Bar/None) Their name appropriated long ago from leftish historian Richard Hofstadter's The Paranoid Style in American Politics, this terrific band's own leftism has always tended more associative than specific. But because the tuneful musicality of their songwriting has never been better defined , this collection feels promising as it tries to claim the kind of hope their audience needs if not craves. Does "Barrier to Entry" address Trump's immigration horrors? Not explicitly. Did "The Comeback Kid" end up in business school or was that jail? Are "Badges and Wages" fungible anymore? Not only do they hope so, they hope you hope so too. A

Princess Nokia: Girls (Artist House) Joan Didion? Emily Dickinson? Would you believe they both had vaginas? ("Drop Dead Gorgeous," "Blue Velvet") **

Squirrel Nut Zippers: Starring in . . . "Fat City" (The Ballad of Little Tony) (Music Maker Foundation) competent if less than striking songs juice up a nightclub of the mind ("Snake Oil Hustlers and Hambones," "Don't Doubt Me Babe," "Anybody Seen My Man?") ***

Sunny Sweeney: Rhinestone Requiem (Thirty Tigers) the honky tonk life doesn't get any funner as you get older ("Last Hard Bible," "Drink Well With Others," "Traveling On") ***

Charli XCX: Wuthering Heights (Atlantic) Here be the marginally hypnotic soundtrack to the recent Emerald Fennell film based on the renowned Emily Bronte novel, which I don't recall ever reading as an English Honors guy at all-male Dartmouth, certainly never read later, and feel not much obligation to catch up even now. But I feel differently about Charli XCX's soundtrack. I find myself more likely to return to its songful atmospherics as background music than to check out the flick. Nor is it likely to finally compel me to pick up the book. But it does increase the odds. B PLUS

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