You would have to have been asleep for the first half of 2022—or at least far away from an R&B playlist—to not have heard “Hrs & Hrs”, the love-drunk centrepiece of Muni Long’s 2021 EP Public Displays of Affection. The song took singer-songwriter Long—who has writing credits for Rihanna, Kelly Clarkson and Ariana Grande, among others—from the studio to the stage and made Public Displays of Affection Too one of the most anticipated projects in R&B. Long proves “Hrs & Hrs” to have been but a preview of her innate ability to chronicle Black love with pinpoint accuracy, singing across her EP sequel about how easy it is to replace an unwilling lover (“Another”), the potency of her lovemaking abilities (“Crack”) and the level of material items her attention is worth (“Cartier”). Her writing career may have already established her as successful, but it is her time in front of the mic, telling her own stories, that now foretells a long and promising career speaking for all the women who were already mesmerised by the end of “Hrs & Hrs”.

I never learned how to swim. In years of sailing, I never let the water touch me. The ocean was an abstract dread, an obliterating void as untenable as outer space.
In January 2018 we went on tour. After years of scraping by, we found our footing with our fourth record 'Yours Conditionally'. It was a commercial success that set us up to to play the biggest rooms of our career. But three shows in, I developed a raging case of influenza. Each night I dragged myself onstage and croaked out the set in a delirium. After a particularly bad sound-check, Patrick asked me if we should cancel the show. I couldn’t imagine giving up the thing we’d work so hard to achieve. “I’ll be on stage even if you have to mic my coffin,” I joked.
The next morning I fainted and had a seizure while grocery shopping for breakfast. Patrick carried me through the check-out lanes screaming for a doctor. I woke later in a hospital bed. Patrick leaned over me, crying. “That’s it,” he said. “I’m canceling the tour. I thought you were dead. We’re quitting the band. I’m going to be an accountant.” But I was on the mend. We missed two shows and pressed on.
During sound check at the 930 club, Patrick stepped out to take a phone call. His father had been in the hospital all week, but he had cancer and brief hospitalisations were routine. Back at the hotel that night, Patrick poured two shots of whiskey and handed me one. “I’d like to toast my dad.” He said. “The doctors offered to put him on life-support to give me a chance to fly out there, but I didn’t want him to suffer. Instead I said goodbye.”
Patrick went home to grieve with his family and rejoined us on the road two days later. I couldn’t believe how quickly our lives had unraveled in the midst of what was supposed to be a milestone in our career. As the tour continued, we found refuge in playing music together. Songwriting had always been an extension of our inner world. Now we retreated to that world every time we stepped onstage.
After the final show of our tour in Austin, we received another phone call. Patrick’s mother Karen was in the hospital on the brink of a stroke. We got on a plane and went straight to her bedside. Her recovery took weeks. In the hospital waiting room, I wrote the opening line of 'Matrimony II': I only have certainty when you hold my hand.
On a hot July day, after Karen’s return to good health, we sailed as a family into the Pacific and scattered Edward’s ashes at sea. I marked our position on the chart with a small x. The album was already well under way. In that moment, I realised what I wanted to call it.
Swimmer is a tour of the darkest time in our lives. But it is not a dark record. Named for the feeling of suspension and upendedness that characterised this period, it is the story of deep-rooted companionship strengthened by pain and loss. These songs carried us through our grief. It is us at our most vulnerable, so we kept a small footprint, recording everything ourselves in our home studio. I set out to describe the love I have come to know after ten years of marriage, when you can no longer remember your life before that person, when the spark of early attraction has been replaced by a gravitational pull.

Voodoo is the second studio album by American recording artist D'Angelo, released on January 25, 2000, by Virgin Records. Recording sessions for the album took place during 1998 to 1999 at Electric Lady Studios in New York City, featuring an extensive line-up of musicians associated with the Soulquarians musical collective. Produced primarily by D'Angelo, Voodoo features a loose, groove-based funk sound and serves as a departure from the more conventional song structure of his debut album, Brown Sugar (1995). The album features lyrical themes regarding spirituality, love, sexuality, growth, and fatherhood.

《Midnights》是美国创作歌手泰勒丝的第十张录音室专辑，于2022年10月21日通过Republic唱片发行。泰勒丝在8月28日举行的2022年MTV音乐录影带颁奖晚会上首次公开了这张专辑。

"Break My Soul" (stylized in all caps) is a song by American singer and songwriter Beyoncé. It was released on June 20, 2022, through Parkwood and Columbia, as the lead single from Beyoncé's upcoming seventh studio album Renaissance (2022).

Night Time, My Time is the debut studio album by American singer and songwriter Sky Ferreira. It was released on October 29, 2013, by Capitol Records. The album was originally set to be released in 2011, following the singles "17", "One", and "Obsession". However, they became commercial failures and caused her label to postpone the album repeatedly. As a result, many recording sessions were held for the album; some of which went towards two extended plays (EP), As If! (2011) and Ghost (2012).