Albums of the week: Bill Callahan, Peaches, Leigh-Anne, the Messthetics and James Brandon Lewis

My Days of 58

Bill Callahan

(Drag City)

Bill Callahan’s latest album – a grounded yet metaphysical record that grapples gently with big issues, not least an excised tumour – is consistent with a 30-year catalogue that continually weighs up death and the ineffable. Dress Sexy At My Funeral, he once sang, back when this exceptional singer-songwriter was called Smog and his narrators were less reliable.

My Days of 58 occasionally deals with cancer directly. On The Man I’m Supposed to Be, Callahan views the presence growing inside him as a “demon” and hopes his narrow escape will allow him not merely to seize the day, but to evolve. The remainder of this engrossing 12-song album often spirals around the subject of his mortality, pondering fatherhood and sonhood, and art itself (Why Do Men Sing, in which Callahan invokes Lou Reed).

The abstract, analogue dial-up internet sounds of Computer make plain Callahan’s preference for flawed humanity over digital perfection. And tracks such as West Texas, where Callahan lives, and Lake Winnebago, where he scattered his father’s ashes, paint a vivid sense of place that brings his dry Americana wit closer than usual to the country tradition. Kitty Empire

No Lube So Rude

Peaches

(Kill Rock Stars)

Merrill Nisker, the woman whose signature song is Fuck the Pain Away, has not mellowed in the 25 years since its release. When she first fruited as Peaches, her act could seem humourless and effortful, but there’s no sign of that on No Lube So Rude, her first album in more than 10 years. Yes, “Can you take a fist / Past the wrist” is unlikely to be about amateur boxing. Yet what Peaches offers here is a relentless exhibitionism that’s more about inspiring fearlessness than seeking attention.

It helps that these songs are uniformly thrilling, with production by The Squirt Deluxe. The vibe is Lady Gaga watching Pornhub in the club backroom: the opening track, Hanging Titties, sprays staccato filth over industrial electronics. Panna Cotta Delight’s spare electro rhythm and sunny melody could have come from Pharrell Williams’s desk. Not in Your Mouth None of Your Business deploys rafter-rattling techno perfectly suited to protest songs, in the vein of Björk’s Declare Independence. And Peaches has never sounded more engaging than on the affecting Be Love or low-slung, malevolent Take It. Damien Morris

My Ego Told Me To

Leigh-Anne

(Made In the 90s)

“It’s the revival, so don’t tell me back down / Let me remind you who’s running this town,” declares Leigh-Anne Pinnock on her debut solo album, which arrives nearly four years after Little Mix announced their hiatus.

This isn’t Little Mix remixed, but a full-bodied new era. Drawing from her Caribbean heritage, she fuses pop with reggae, dancehall and club-ready electronics, crafting something sexier and far more adventurous. The opening track Look Into My Eyes is overwhelming by design – five ideas colliding in high-octane techno-pop – and establishes the album’s maximalist intent. Dead and Gone is a bona fide banger, its dancehall beat paired with Pinnock’s razor-sharp pop precision. Revival, sampling Ansel Collin’s Stalag 17, moves with a slower confidence, while Been a Minute makes joyful use of Denise Belfon’s original Work vocal.

Through sampling, Pinnock places herself within a wider lineage,  one that also includes a tender interlude from her grandparents. The closing track Heaven softens the record’s edges, reflecting on growth and motherhood. This is true hybrid pop, built for the club and for Leigh-Anne’s future. Lily Isaacs

Deface the Currency

The Messthetics and James Brandon Lewis

(Impulse!)

Since the release of their 2024 self-titled debut, the Messthetics and James Brandon Lewis have established themselves as an explosive presence in improvised music. Featuring the rhythm section of Brendan Canty and Joe Lally from pioneering post-hardcore group Fugazi, the experimental guitarist Anthony Pirog and tenor saxophonist James Brandon Lewis, the quartet have blasted stages around the world with their blend of jazz melodics, punk energy and squealing harmonics.

After a year on the road, they returned to the studio and recorded this, their hardest hitting record yet. The opening title track sets the tone, with Canty’s drum groove bolstering a sinuous melody line and a scorching, free jazz-fuelled solo from Lewis, while Gestations and Universal Security maintain the frenetic pace.

Even on the quieter moments, such as the funk-inflected 30 Years of Knowing and the finger-picking on Clutch, the potential for chaos is felt in the squall of a guitar or a swelling cymbal. Channelling the adrenaline of their shows, the group deliver a record that revels in unencumbered live expression. Ammar Kalia

Combining club music and high-fashion theatrics, Cobrah is a Swedish experimental pop artist who treats sound and image as one and the same. Originally from Gothenburg, now based in Stockholm, she emerged from the underground fetish scene, laying the groundwork for the sweat-soaked intensity that pulses through her songs.

Since breaking through with her 2019 debut EP Icon, Cobrah, AKA Clara Christensen, has grown from cult favourite to conversation-starter. Subsequent releases sharpened her vision, while commanding live shows cemented her reputation as an artist who thrives on spectacle.

Her forthcoming album, Torn, is a pivotal moment in her career. It nods to clubs that smell of smoke and latex: gothic techno, industrial pop and warped dance anthems collide, with the confrontational spirit of Peaches, albeit filtered through hyper-modern production. Where earlier releases revelled in steel-plated confidence, Torn’s title track introduces vulnerability without sacrificing impact.

Other standouts include the simmering Hit Girl, while Platinum and Excuse Moi hit hard with catwalk-ready basslines. By peeling back Cobrah’s armour to reveal something raw underneath, Torn strikes a balance between softness and dominance, cementing the artist’s status as one of pop’s most compelling provocateurs. Georgia Evans

Torn is released on 6 March (Atlantic). Live dates announced soon

Photographs by © Bill McCullough/The Observer/Alex Evans/Pat Graham