To find his way back to himself, Griot unpacks childhood trauma with a courageous vulnerability. His lyrics illuminate a new path forward, one that invites listeners to lovingly tend to their own scars. — Nastia Voynovskaya
Rabiah Kabir, Jezebel: Rewritten (Self-released)
The song “Flute / Overture,” opens Rabiah Kabir’s Jezebel: Rewritten with a jazzy thesis statement. Birds chirp, shakers shake and keys resonate as the flute’s flow intertwines with comments about the historical importance of the instrument and the artist’s work to dispel sexist notions about flutists.
With the support of a full band, Oakland’s Kabir shows a range of a flute’s sonic capabilities. The song “Fin.” showcases the wind instrument’s mysticism. “The ReZident” offers a taste of flute funk. And the dark keys and heavy drums at the start of “I Crashed My Car” create an anxious tone that is ultimately resolved, climaxing in a flute run that’s as relaxing as a field of fresh lavender. — Pendarvis Harshaw
Kathryn Mohr, Waiting Room (The Flenser)
A bell’s hollow rings echo through a room. Static builds. Radio noise chatters in the distance. Sea waves crash. Someone (or something) scribbles. The field recordings that populate Kathryn Mohr’s Waiting Room — self-recorded in an abandoned fish factory in Iceland — give a sense of isolation and melancholy, capturing the anxiety of anticipation.
Mohr builds on those recordings using an analog synth and aching vocals, creating subtle, pinpoint-precise melodies. Following the oneiric opener “Diver,” dissonant tracks weave between guitar-driven, ’90s grunge-inspired pieces. In “Petrified,” gentle vocals evoke violent visuals that dance above finger-plucked guitar. Mohr’s full-length debut asks its listeners to find beauty in decay, to sit in feelings of discomfort without the promise of catharsis. — Caroline Smith
Michael Sneed, floaters at the buzzer! (Michael Sneed/Create Music Group)
Attention spans might be shrinking because of TikTok and Instagram, but rapper and producer Michael Sneed’s floaters at the buzzer! beckons to be heard from start to finish. “I’ll be your guide, I got you,” Sneed croons on the opening track. From there he puffs out his chest on “blend*” featuring Bay Area trailblazer P-Lo.
On “town sh!t 4ever!,” Sneed and P-Lo reinterpret a classic by sampling Mistah F.A.B.’s legendary “N.E.W. Oakland.” The song features Ovrkast. and wrestles with the tension of being pushed out of your hometown yet still trying to love it despite the struggles. This contradiction crescendos with “still ain’t die!,” a trumpet-laced proclamation of the life Sneed and his kin insist on, in spite of the forces conspiring against their thriving. — Sarah O’Neal
John Elliott, I Am John Mayer (Self-released)
When John Michael Mayer started making music in the Y2K era, he faced a problem: There was another musician on the internet named John Mayer. Vowing to battle for name recognition and acclaim in the public arena, he released song after song, none as schlocky as “Your Body Is a Wonderland,” and lost the fight. Now, the San Francisco musician forced to rechristen himself John Elliott has told the story in a catchy, cleverly written title track, “I Am John Mayer.”
Possessed of a Jonathan Richman sincerity and a John Darnielle expressiveness, Elliott’s a wide-eyed everyman who soaks up and sings about the world’s joys and pains alike. (Recall his one-minute song to elected officials about keeping JFK Drive car-free.) On I Am John Mayer (currently only available through his website, and coming soon to streaming), he’s in top form, including the heartstring-pulling “Out Here,” a plea to an unborn child hesitant to enter the world. — Gabe Meline
Jane Handcock, It’s Me, Not You (Death Row Records/gamma.)
It’s Me, Not You marks a well-deserved ascent for Jane Handcock, the mega-talented Richmond-raised vocalist who’s spent years behind the scenes, penning lyrics for R&B and hip-hop greats like Kelly Rowland, Rick Ross, Tyrese and Teddy Riley. Now signed to the venerable Death Row Records, Handcock delivered a finely crafted album for the grown-and-sexy lover girls.
The effervescent mood of “Stare At Me” featuring Anderson .Paak feels like eclectic sliding through the clouds. The funky, horn-driven “Can’t Let Go” drips with sex appeal, and on “For the Views” — a missive to social-media lurkers — Handcock conjures the atmosphere of a smoke-filled lounge where one might exchange a furtive glance over the rim of a martini glass. It’s Me, Not You proves Handcock has earned her spotlight and will continue to hold our attention for a long time. — Nastia Voynovskaya
Spiritual Cramp, Rude (Blue Grape Music)
“What if I went back home to the Bay where I belong? / In the heart of San Francisco, just an hour away from home,” Spiritual Cramp’s Michael Bingham sings on “True Love (Is Hard To Find).” It’s the premise for Rude, an eloquent new-wave punk love letter to the city that still holds the keys to his soul, even though he’s moved away.
Produced by the accomplished John Congleton, Rude wears that heart on its sleeve at every turn, from the tantalizing melodies of “Automatic” to the endearingly self-deprecating “At My Funeral.” Sharon Van Etten guests on the gleaming “You’ve Got My Number,” a highlight within what should go down as a breakout effort for Spiritual Cramp, who are primed for big things in 2026. — Adrian Spinelli
Various Artists, Salsa de la Bahia Vol. III: Renegade Queens (Patois Records)
It’s rare indeed when an album makes you rethink the history of a genre, but by focusing on female salsa and Latin jazz artists, Salsa de la Bahia Vol. III: Renegade Queens offers a deeply informed alternative view of the evolution of Latin music in the Bay Area. Without a dominant group to shape the rhythmic currents, the Bay Area Latin music scene has always cast a wide net. This two-disc anthology shows that same pan-Latin forces at work, showcasing excellent work by women from Venezuela, Cuba, Chile and Colombia and the U.S.
Both discs open with new music showcasing a brilliant cross-section of women players, many of whom lead their own bands. But it’s tracks like “Cosmo” by the Blazing Redheads, an all-female septet that coalesced at the end of the 1980s with a dance-inducing combination of jazz, funk and Latin beats, that make Renegade Queens a continual source of delight. — Andrew Gilbert
Lil Yee, Life After Death (G-Affair/Empire)
“They say death is a deep sleep / Wake me up, it ain’t my time,” says San Francisco’s Lil Yee on Life After Death. After being shot in March of this year, Yee’s latest project illustrates his pain, his family’s love and his devotion to a higher power.
He brings the audience into the hospital on “ICU” as he describes the feeling of flatlining. Yee yearns for romantic love on “Love Me FRFR,” and he stunts on tracks with Veeze, 22nd Jim and EBK Jaaybo. On “Chopper Zone,” Yee paints the perils of his community. “Wicked Man” is a blues song about sinister things happening to benevolent people. And on “Sunday Morning,” Yee shares his resilient mindstate after the shooting, and how he’s persevering through it all. — Pendarvis Harshaw
Spellling, Portrait of My Heart (Sacred Bones)
On Portrait of My Heart, Oakland art-pop luminary Spellling strips away ornate theatricality for punchy guitar rock that speaks straight into the soul of anyone who’s ever felt like an outcast: “I don’t belong here,” she wails on the title track, which simmers with inner turmoil before boiling over into a cathartic crescendo.
The sharply written album is a cinematic ride through alienation and grief. Spellling pushes the limits of her voice to belt, whisper and growl as she delicately unravels thorny emotions such as shame and fear, letting herself bleed as she narrates her internal battles. Guitarist Wyatt Overson’s distortion-heavy riffs and anthemic solos add weight to the gut punch of Spellling’s lyrical intensity. — Nastia Voynovskaya
Arts and Crafts, 1000 Dancing Devils (Self-released)
Prog jazz meets math rock meets influences from South Asia and North Africa in Arts and Crafts’ 1000 Dancing Devils. Guitarist Noam Teyssier, bassist Nadia Aquil and drummer Jeff Klein say their inspirations span Moroccan ouds, Bollywood films and the band Phish — specifically for the track “Roti,” the three-over-four rhythm from Phish’s “Buried Alive.”
The sounds originate from the San Francisco and Oakland band’s own communities and diasporas, combining and transmuting to form the groovy, upbeat album: Psychedelic opener “Oö” gives way to the cymbal crashes and pulsing surf rock of “Sidi Bouzid.” Named after a Moroccan city of Teyssier’s childhood, that track ends with a sample of the very musicians who played at Teyssier’s wedding. It’s personal and universal and wholly Bay Area. Blast the album during a winding car ride along the California coast, and you’ll find your head nodding, fingers reaching out of the open window to tap along. — Caroline Smith
Andrés Miguel Cervantes, Songs for the Seance (Speakeasy Studios SF)
Andrés Miguel Cervantes is a Western desperado whose journeys through the Sonoran and Mojave deserts and up the coast are at the crux of his latest album. Songs for the Seance sounds like Hermanos Gutierrez backing Sturgill Simpson, and this is rarified air for a Bay Area artist.
Recorded on eight-track tape, sinister guitar, omnipresent pedal steel and twangy violin, garnished with harmonica, guide Cervantes’ rugged baritone staccato. “I saw the devil’s eyes in me,” the Oaklander laments on the title track, pleading to marauding spirits that he’s passionately trying to harness. It’s one of many wonderfully constructed tunes on an album that reveals Cervantes’ gifts as an essential emerging storyteller. — Adrian Spinelli
Cole Pulice, Land’s End Eternal (Leaving Records)
Cole Pulice’s work this decade showed improvisers all over the world a way forward for Coltrane-inspired spiritual-jazz saxophone, culminating in the pitch-shifted frenzy of 2023’s longform odyssey “If I Don’t See You in the Future, I’ll See You in the Pasture.” On their new album Land’s End Eternal, the Oakland improviser takes a breather, pairing the first scratchings of their journey as a guitarist with gentle saxophone leads that snake across the stereo field like the cliff-hugging trails of the album’s namesake park.
Pulice cited Bay Area art-music legends Pauline Oliveros and Terry Riley as inspirations for their meditative approach on this record, but it’s guided just as much by the ineffable something that rolls in with the fog every night. — Daniel Bromfield
Kevin Allen, Mr. Nobody (Grand Nationxl/Create Music Group)
“Fuck the middleman, I had to do it myself.” So begins Kevin Allen’s Mr. Nobody, a 10-song manifesto from one of the Bay’s most prolific and underrated rappers. At this stage in his career, Allen’s got nothing more to prove, evidenced by the risk-taking on the breezy, exploratory R&B of his 2024 album Don’t Overthink It.
This time around, Allen’s the grown lyricist claiming his spot at the Bay Area table, with a well-earned chip on his shoulder (“My baby mama only one who came to my court date,” he raps on “F.W.W.I.D.”). Add an undercurrent of gospel, a dash of the cinematic and a sidearm pitch of romance in the eighth inning (“Put You First”), and you’ve got a solid album with Allen’s voice and vision front and center — no middleman needed. — Gabe Meline
Raven, Gnosis (Incienso)
There’s certain music that timelessly soundtracks a pensive nighttime stroll in the big city. Everything but the Girl’s Walking Wounded inspires you to find a dance floor and spill your emotions, while Adam F’s Colours invites you to seek harmony in the chaos of your surroundings. San Francisco producer Raven’s Gnosis (out on NYC’s Incienso label) has a similar spirit, emphasizing the organic sensory experiences of urban life amid an increasingly tech-saturated landscape: the moisture in the air, cold pavement, tall buildings, lights that flicker and thousands of people with their hands in their pockets making their way across town.
Wrapped in synths and dark textures, Raven’s ambient techno begs us to dance, but ultimately stays grounded in an IDM sensibility — like floating above a wormhole into a mysterious other side and winning the battle against its gravitational pull. — Adrian Spinelli
demahjiae, what do you hear when you pray? (Yalé/Empire)
“How is this for alternative?” demahjiae begins, pushing back on being pigeonholed as an artist. what do you hear when you pray? releases the expectation to have answers, offering a litany of questions instead. In a time when many stereotype the Bay Area as having a single sound, demahjiae puts his foot down, stubbornly crafting on his terms.
He turns away from the pressure of people and towards the support of a higher power, echoing that in the end “God got me” on “Silver Surfer.” “a ladder to the sky” concludes with keys and violin strings that break through like sun rays shattering rainclouds. “The north star don’t shine on the east too much,” he professes. Yet despite the exhaustion of insisting on a truth few recognize, in defense of a home many denigrate, demahjiae presses on, holding up a mirror to his own contradictions while casting prayers to soften the path. — Sarah O’Neal
Hook-Ups, Hook-Ups Presents… Hkup (Self-released)
Hook-Ups, the slacker-rock solo project of Castro Valley-based Maxwell Carver, released its most ambitious work yet in the half-hour LP Hook-Ups Presents… Hkup. After a jingle plays for the fictional radio station HKUP, DJ Scotty2Shoes (voiced by Carver) wishes listeners good morning, introducing himself and his high-pitched, possibly avian co-host Jimmy (also Carver) as the Hook-Ups track “Crawlin’” plays underneath. The gambit is that we’re tuning into Scotty2Shoes’ radio hour as he sets up — and distracts us from — all-new Hook-Ups songs.
In the musical interludes — or, rather, the album — indie rock earworms like “Wcyd?” stand out with hypnotic loops of guitar and keys as backing vocals whisper and repeat. Meanwhile, in the album’s spoken parts, Scotty gives traffic updates on I-880, takes staticky local calls and needles Jimmy about his love life. Jimmy eventually leaves the show in anger, catalyzing the album’s second half: Jimmy’s replacement Albert (still Carver) asks Scotty to “turn that shit up” by way of introducing “Fine Whine.” And to win Jimmy back, Scotty plays Hook-Ups’ ebullient cover of Dion and the Belmonts’ 1959 “A Teenager in Love” — winning over, too, listeners who might’ve been initially unsure about the album’s out-there concept. — Caroline Smith
Beth Schenck, Dahlia (Queen Bee Records)
Part of the extraordinary 12/12 project spearheaded by Berkeley bassist Lisa Mezzacappa, which has released a dozen albums by improvisation-powered Bay Area ensembles, San Francisco alto saxophonist Beth Schenck’s Dahlia is among the most striking blooms in this artfully curated garden.
Best known for her folk and chamber-jazz work with Jenny Scheinman, Schenck possesses a bright, gleaming tone and divergent impulses as a composer. Featuring a formidable cast with Mezzacappa, drummer Jordan Glenn, Cory Wright on tenor sax and bass clarinet and Schenck’s husband Matt Wrobel on guitar, Dahlia toggles between Ornette Coleman-inspired laments (“Every Riven Thing”), tender tone poems (“Wayne’s Gone”) and sinuous, multi-layered investigations (“Playground”). Each mode contains its own particular rewards, starting with the sheer beauty of her sound. — Andrew Gilbert
Miles Minnick, Via Dolorosa (Glo/Empire)
On Via Dolorosa, Miles Minnick, a former youth pastor from Pittsburg, cooks up some traditional West Coast hip-hop without using a single cuss word. There’s praise and affirmations, melodic hooks and that trademark Bay Area blap.
Minnick taps Brooke Valentine and Lacrae for features, as well as the Bay Area’s own G-Eazy, E-40 and Kamiyah. Keak Da Sneak is on “Bout Time,” which pulls from his 2003 track “Know What I’m Talking About.” And Mistah F.A.B. is on “Sick Wid It,” a retake of 2005’s “Super Sic Wit It.” Minnick samples Mac Dre’s “Not My Job” but shares a message that differs from Furl’s. “It’s not my job, can’t judge you / Live different, but we still gon’ love you,” Minnick says, summarizing the album’s ethos. The project, the fourth from Minnick in the past two years, is evidence that he’s making religious rap more relatable, not condescending — and he’s doing so without watering down the beats. — Pendarvis Harshaw
Various Artists, Bay Area Renegade Trax Vol. 2 (No Bias)
If you’re searching for the pulse of the Bay Area’s underground electronic music scene, look no further than Bay Area Renegade Trax Vol. 2, a compilation featuring 31 eccentric, eclectic DJs and producers put together by local label No Bias.
