I don’t like to pre-judge things. Then again, I am human. I suspect those gene splicing wizards have already figured out what part of my brain prevents me from staying open-minded, no matter how much I try. So, as the title of this little essay suggests, I have already decided on my favorite rock album of 2026, even though it won’t be released for a couple more months.
I feel the need to proclaim it now because Pitchfork just released “The 64 Most Anticipated Albums of Spring 2026” and somehow left my most anticipated album of the entire 2026 out. I promise not to make you wait too much longer to find out which album I like – I know you are salivating over the revelation – but first, I want to say something about Pitchfork.
They do a lot of lists. I read most of them. I go into this new one knowing full well that I won’t care at all about three-quarters of their selections. Some I have never heard of. Those are actually the more intriguing ones. Most I have heard of, and simply don’t share in the delight.
One music fan’s most-anticipated album of 2026
Look – if phrases like “hypnagogic electronics” and “bricolage of Gregorian chants” do it for you, then you’ll love the Pitchfork list. Anyone who writes about music understands that job one is coming up with new, engaging phrases to capture the ineffable. It just seems that there are a lot of people out there who are into shoegaze and anything with “core” in its genre name more than I am.
I think they all read Pitchfork.
OK, I’m going to stop taking cheap shots now because Pitchfork, however much I recoil from the heartfelt, liminal dreampop and wistful post-genre dusk (all descriptors yanked out of their latest article), it has exposed me to a lot of new bands outside my comfort zone, and some of them I have come to enjoy very much.
So, though I am having a hard time getting it up for a lot of their 64 – big names like Foo Fighters and Faces to artists more in the margins like Hiss Golden Messenger and Kathryn Mohr (talk about liminal) – there are several selections I am eager to hear.
Again, some are big names – Kacey Musgraves, Olivia Rodrigo, Tori Amos, Courtney Barnett. Wait, there must be a guy that I’m eager to hear. There is – King Tuff. Maybe not the biggest name.
I’m sure there are more fine albums on this list, and I will check them all out in time. I just know going in that my tastes don’t align, and I will not like most of them.
I could have had another guy on my own “anticipated list” if they had seen fit to include Eric D. Johnson’s Fruit Bats release, The Landfill. But they did not. They didn’t include albums from Ashley McBryde or Vincent Neil Emerson either.
I can forgive them all that.
But they did not include New Self by the Bobby Lees. And that, as Vito Corleone once said, I do not forgive.
The Bobby Lees’ last album, Bellevue, came out three-and-a-half years ago. They had broken up for a while, which was a tragedy for lovers of hard-edged rock & roll. Their reemergence with Epitaph Records should be the cause for great rejoicing in the land. It should not be ignored.
I thought maybe Pitchfork was cutting off “Spring” at the end of May. That would explain the omission. New Self drops on June 12th. But DCFC’s new album is out June 5th. I didn’t notice anything else in June on the Pitchfork list, but the precedent is in place. Spring runs until June 21.
Am I overselling the Bobby Lees? Listen to the two singles that dropped – the title track and “Napoleon.” I can personally attest to the fact that you can listen to each of them fifty times and they will not lose one ounce of their power.
On “Napoleon,” singer/guitarist Sam Quartin takes us on an energized tour of the band’s all-too-brief history. She snarls out the opening confessional …
“It’s hard to believe in yourself when the thought it’s just not – it’s not natural for me.”
Kendall Wind’s pummeling bass drives the story forward while Quartin’s guitar flourishes fly in from above to add texture. Quartin is pleading for advice after being told her band is the best thing going. Iggy Pop loves them. Debbie Harry loves them. Imagine slam dancing alongside Henry Rollins and Jason Momoa, two of their biggest fans.
Wind’s bass kicks off “New Self,” a pulsating anthem to rebirth. Concerns that the Bobby Lees’ sound will suffer due to the absence of lead guitarist Nick Casa are put to rest by the juggernaut of power chords, bass, and drums (courtesy of Macky Bowman).
Look, I’m not a Bobby Lees fanboy. I am willing to state for the record that some of the second half of 2020’s Skin Suit is not up to their typical breathtaking standards. Then again, the second half of Skin Suit does have “Drive” and a killer version of Richard Hell’s “Blank Generation.” So putting up with “Ranch Baby” is a small price to pay.
Maybe I am a fanboy.
No matter. If you are one of those children of the previous century, like me, and you have decided rock and roll died with Buddy Holly, Ronnie Van Zant, or Kurt Cobain, then I implore you to check out the Bobby Lees' new album when it comes out on June 12.
Which, I hope we can all agree, is in fact, in the spring.