Coming Attractions: 13 Things We’re Looking Forward to in 2014

There's a big year ahead, and we're really only just beginning to settle in to it. But here, as we prepare for what the weather people warn will be a dangerous deep freeze, FADER's editors weigh in on some of the music, books and movies they’re looking forward to in 2014. Trend alert: Post-BEYONCÉ, self-titled albums are in.

Warpaint should not be so difficult to pin down. They are essentially a traditional rock four-piece; bass, drums, guitar and vocals, with an occasional touch of keys. But there's a uniqueness to their playing, often charged by drummer Stella Mozgowa, that powers their songs and makes them feel less like traditional rock songs than meditations on what rock could be at its most enlightened. I listened to their debut album, The Fool, a ridiculous amount, and their upcoming, self-titled sophomore release promises to push boundaries further. An early favorite, "Drive," is both creepy and sultry, an excellent combination for fans of weird music with a thing for tradition. matthew schnipper

Did you know that men ride dirt bikes at extreme speeds in Baltimore traffic? Me either. But director Lotfy Nathan (excellent name) did, and spent three years creating a portrait of the scene and aspiring young rider, Pug. While 12 O'Clock Boys is at once a look at Pug and his life and family as a boy in Baltimore, it's also just a really beautifully shot movie. Years of working at FADER have made me predispositioned to stark photojournalism, and Nathan's eye—panning slowly across bikes that look like bugs, moving through traffic peppily, spying police helicopters—works with a combination of naturalness and grace it's unusual to see from both such a young director (he's 26) and in a low-budget documentary. ms

Probably every album I’ve truly loved since 2010, when Blake Mills released his debut, Break Mirrors, expresses the qualities of that album: the idiosyncratic work of a self-focused lyricist appearing out of nowhere to tell a really touching personal history. (Though totally different-sounding, it's the same feeling of listening to Danny Brown's XXX, or Laura Marling's latest.) Blake Mills will soon return and, judging by the songs teased on his recent tour with Fiona Apple, including the above soul-snuffer, he'll invariably raise the bar again. duncan cooper

Lorrie Moore, whose short stories are written tighter and funnier and sadder than really anybody else’s shorts—or mediums or longs—will release her first new collection in 15 years this February. It will presumably, by the grace of god, shut the shit-world of lit down for a few days while everyone reads and tries to figure out how a writer can make life seem simultaneously worth living forever and quitting immediately. dc

Pink posted an idiotic, imaginary first chapter to this book on his blog the other day, and though the novel isn’t really being published, it’s a nice reminder that someday something new of his will. (Till then, for me, last year’s Rontel has yet to be topped.) dc

I’ve been listening almost exclusively to electronic music for the past two years, so I’m really crossing my fingers that 2014 will be a good year for rock. My favorite 30-seconds of guitar-based music from 2013 was probably the colossal, galloping opening of Deafheaven’s "Dream House" so obviously, I’m pretty stoked about their just-announced North American tour next month. Elsewhere in heavy, non-twee, melodic and raw-sounding rock music, I’ve been pretty addicted to Nothing’s forthcoming Guilty of Everything album these days (stream the single, “Dig,” above) and also to the Bandcamp of Chicago metal/post-punk outfit Toupée, whose Dinner Parties debut I chanced upon so late last year that I can’t thinking of it as something that just came out. I think a lot of people outside of Chicago missed it too, but if you like your rock full of soul and messy as hell, you could do worse things than start your year off with it. emilie friedlander

Annie Clark dips her weird, glitchy grooves in just enough sugar to help the melodies go down. On "Birth in Reverse," the first tune deployed from her forthcoming self-titled St. Vincent album, due February 25, the elixir hasn't changed much, or it's a bit more potent. Oh what an ordinary day/ Taking out the garbage, masturbate, she sings on the opening line. She might turn more heads if our feet weren't so busy stomping. "I wanted to make a party record you could play at a funeral," Clark said in a press release. Few else could. jessica robertson

I'm having a hard time getting excited about the impending OutKast reunion. I've long hoped I’d see them record new music together in my lifetime, but learning they’ll cash in at a big festival first only makes me nostalgic for young Big Boi, the new father who cracked jokes about blow jobs and consulted his grandma for child-rearing advice. Isaiah Rashad is 22 and has a new son. He was two when OutKast's first album dropped; like them, he seems to believe that language is something to be mastered then played with, and that making music can be a kind of transport, from the red-clay South to space or beyond (in his case, to LA). If OutKast’s reunion is a reminder that I'm getting old quickly, and that OutKast have been for awhile, it's a big comfort that the rappers they spawned are still kids, figuring stuff out. naomi zeichner

Before last summer's Ketchup came last January's Million Dollar Afro, a consistently danceable tape with technically Olympic raps. Iamsu! and Problem are a charming California couple: the former absurdly tall with a young man's wide-eyed approach to raunch, the latter a squat veteran who's been soaking up game for so long that he's got plenty to spare. There's no release date, but the two are working on a sequel. They've both got plenty of other shit to do, so it's especially nice to see that they'd carve out studio time somewhere between their homes in the Bay and LA, just because they really had fun the first time around. nz

When Hot 97’s Peter Rosenberg claimed last year that Nicki Minaj’s pop turn on “Starships,” and the “chicks” that loved her for it, made her soft, he made himself look painfully 20th century. I hope he and Minaj's feud marked a turning point, and that in 2014 we can all recognize her for taking an uncharted career course that we just haven’t seen before. Forget purists that deride Minaj for it: she can be a million dollar pu$$y on “Tapout” as easily as she can dance with little kids on Ellen, as easily as she closed out last year as rap’s reigning boss ass bitch. I’m excited for her next album because I’m excited for everything she does—not because I’m sure that it will all be good, but because it’s so fun to watch a person shape their career on their own terms. alex frank

Will this happen? After a 2013 spent deriding the fashion industry for not giving him enough of a chance, I have prayer hands that Kanye will finally act on his threats and come out with a clothing line. I understand why he gave up his first time around—the press gave him such a hard time he probably couldn’t even hear himself think up new ways to apply fur to leather—but I believe in Kanye as an aesthetic force and I’m not going to listen to his complaints anymore until he puts his money where his mouth is. Come on, Kanye: Kim needs something new to wear! af

2014 is shaping up to be a great year to be West Indian. Specifically, I’m hyped for Bunji Garlin’s new album Differentology, due out in March. (In 2013, Bunji’s single of the same name blew the fuck up and was played everywhere: on Hot 97, on Grey's Anatomy, at NBA basketball games.) I'm also pumped to hear new music from Kranium, a young NYC reggae artist whose first EP is slated for a February release. Last year, his song "Nobody Has To Know" was my slow-wine jam. Most of all, I’m looking forward to making the pilgrimage to Trinidad for carnival, where I’ll be playing Mas in full costume, attending fêtes, getting no sleep and partying for days on end. deidre dyer

I will probably mark my calendar and line up an early dinner date to see Wes Anderson’s new movie, The Grand Budapest Hotel, during its opening weekend. I love the cozy melancholy of his movies—last Saturday night, posted up on my couch while eating a plate of mediocre pasta, I watched Moonrise Kingdom for the fifth time. Thankfully, I’m totally okay with that. dd