Eight underrated indie pop albums from last five years that you need to hear

Indie pop has always been great, but here are some great albums from the last five years.
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Death of a Cheerleader by Pom Pom Squad (2021)

Mia Perrin launched Pom Pom Squad when she was 18, and within a few years, she found steady bandmates and released a few Eps. Death of a Cheerleader was the band’s first full-length album and it showed off Berrin’s outstanding eclecticism as a songwriter. From the somber nod to Smoky Robinson in the lovely “Second That” to the messy sarcasm of “Cake,” Berrin is at home in a variety of pop-punk styles. “Lux” is a hard-rocking earworm. “Red With Love” borders on dream pop.

And that only scratches the surface. Psychedelia shows up in a cover of “Crimson + Clover,” while "Crying" manages to be a slow-burning grunge rocker that somehow opens with 1950s-style harp and strings. Finally, “Head Cheerleader” is one of the very best songs of 2021 – rock pop that showcases one of the most incisive songwriters in the modern rock and pop universe. Her second album, 2024’s Mirror Starts Moving Without Me, shifts the focus more toward pop with less obvious hard rock influences. It is equally top-flight pop, though not quite as diverse as Cheerleader.

Ribbon Around the Bomb by Blossoms (2022)

If you are sitting on the east side of the Atlantic Ocean, you can rightly question why Blossoms is included in an article about underrated indie pop. Ribbon Around the Bomb hit number 1 on the album chart in the UK – the third of Blossoms’ album to do so. But for some reason, here in the States, the Stockport quintet has never hit big.

Even with the sweet anthem, “Ode to NYC,” and its chorus “Fall in love with New York City,” Blossoms remains a niche act in the USA. The supremely catchy title track and the doo-woppy “The Sulky Poet” seem ready-made for radio success. Each song shines with near-perfect pop production with minor stylistic shifts to keep the whole thing from drifting into monotony. 

So the strings that dramatize the chugging rhythm of “Edith Machinist” are wisely left out of the simple acoustic “The Writer.” Perhaps the orchestral instrumentals that open and close the album (strings open and a piano closes) are a touch precious, but they are short, and the pristine sounds never threaten to suck anything out of the pop perfection.