Cover of Imaginal Disk (Magdalena Bay, (2024). Imaginal Disk [Album]. Mom+Pop

Magdalena Bay’s second full-length album, Imaginal Disk, is the kind of record that makes you question how much you’re really paying attention. Is it just a fun, glossy pop album? Or is there something lurking under the surface—a deeper commentary, a philosophical puzzle?

This album is a lot. It’s conceptual to the point of needing a glossary. Vocalist Mica Tenenbaum sings about simulated realities and self-improvement implants—ideas borrowed directly from sci-fi heavyweights like Stanisław Lem and Isaac Asimov—over bright, fast-paced pop tracks that feel like they belong on a hyper-modern dance floor. And yet, somehow, it works. The contrast between the sweet, approachable sound and the dense, paranoia-fueled themes creates this weird, exhilarating tension.

“Image” is bouncy, layered, and instantly catchy, but there’s an unease bubbling just below the surface—a paranoid question of what’s real and what’s manufactured. “Cry for Me” and “Watching T.V.” are similarly layered: sugary on the outside, but complex and, at times, unsettling once you really dig into the lyrics. By the time you hit “Death & Romance,” the record starts to feel like a mirror reflecting your own existential worries.

What makes Imaginal Disk special isn’t just its concept—though the story about True, a robotic character navigating human consciousness after rejecting an “imaginal disk” upgrade, is interesting—it’s how much attention to detail went into every minute of its runtime. The production is layered to the point of excess (in the best way), with textures, glitches, and synths colliding in ways that feel simultaneously chaotic and polished. Each track feels breathing, growing, alive.

Fans and critics alike highly praised this record when it dropped in the fall of 2024, and for good reason. It’s bold, ambitious, and unapologetically weird. Some are calling it the best album of 2024. And while I won’t deny its brilliance, I can’t quite get behind the “AOTY” hype. There’s something about it—maybe its maximalism, maybe its hugely conceptual weight—that makes it feel just shy of being the album of 2024. But hey, not every album needs to hold that title to be great.

Imaginal Disk is a trip—one that leaves you wanting to go back for more long after the final track ends. It’s layered, it’s fun, it’s overwhelming at times, but it’s undeniably a Magdalena Bay masterpiece. Whether you’re here for the sci-fi philosophy or the sugar-rush hooks, there’s something for everyone in this strange, paranoid little world they’ve built.