The first thing any listener of Aisha Badru’s music has to notice is her uniquely haunting vocal tone. Soaring over simple acoustic guitar strums and the pulsing four-on-the-floor drumbeat of “The Way Back Home,” Badru’s lush lead vocal takes this emotive acoustic track to new heights. Shimmering, delicate synths in the background of the production are a clever touch to echo Badru’s own otherworldly vocal quality. This is a song to listen to on a misty night, possibly while tracing the steady beacon of a lit lighthouse over dark waters. 

The lyrics of “The Way Back Home” are simple, possibly because they don’t have to do much more than provide a way for us to experience Badru’s voice. Lines like “There’s a world out there and it’ll come calling” are repeated with subtle differences throughout, evolving just enough to illustrate the song’s message of constancy and certainty even as new experiences beckon. However, the arrangement of this track is more layered than you might expect from a typical acoustic ballad. The choruses especially feature a thick, warm low-end that you could melt into. Overall, from the rich instrumentation to the moving vocal to the mantra-like lyrics, Aisha Badru’s “The Way Back Home” is a song that invites you to dissolve into it, trusting that it will carry you back to where you came from.  

Norwegian band Das Body writes off-kilter pop music that simmers with quiet intensity, occasionally erupting and becoming unhinged. This catharsis, and the dark, catchy hooks that underpin it, is what makes “On Request” such an incredible listen. Singer Ellie Linden insists, “I can make the idea come true for you if I only know what you’re asking me.” It’s an offer to do whatever it takes to meet the demands of another, but it’s also searching for clarity; she can’t hit a target which she can’t see. Eventually, a sense of desperation builds, and roaring guitars surround the vocals. “On Request” explores the feeling of bending yourself to meet standards that are not your own and bristles with the frustration that comes from wanting to please someone without understanding how. The effect is soaring and raucous as Linden wails, “I’m gonna call up all my lovers. Tell them like it is.” She may not know how to meet the unspoken request, but the resulting tension becomes an explosive song.

Throughout the gorgeous, lush “About April,” Alex Banin fascinatingly explores the intoxicating effects of a love affair gone wrong. Love can be a drug in its own right, and Banin examines the painful emotions that can come with its withdrawal. As she states “Yeah, maybe you’re still lingering / In nothing but the rushes of adrenaline,” the beat starts to kick in, pushing the song towards a rolling groove. The track follows the journey that she takes as she comes to terms with the fact that the person she’s singing about has changed during their relationship, and they’ve irreparably grown apart. We all have to learn eventually that we cannot change or control other people, no matter how badly we may want to. By the end of “About April,” Banin reaches the acceptance stage of the grieving process—“No matter what happens I’m gone / There’s nothing else to do,” she sings yearningly—vocalizing the end of her relationship, and beginning to heal. Listen to “About April” wherever you stream.

Eric Cannata is known as the guitarist for Young the Giant, but earlier this year, he released an EP titled Lonely Beast. It's a personable, sweet, fascinating record—establishing him as a folk artist with his own distinct sound. Cannata recorded an acoustic version of the EP's title track in his home studio in California. His vocals are so clean, expressing the elemental and sincere themes in his lyrics. "Lonely Beast," he explains, is about a house cat. 

Hearing this nuanced recording of the track illuminated a beauty in our quarantine loneliness I hadn't considered yet. It's difficult to be as graceful at being alone as the lonely beast seems to be. It's difficult to venture towards contentment and relish periods of rest. Maybe the cat is a "lonely beast," but it knows when to savor the warm light coming in through the window and the slow hours of a midday nap.

Refreshing and whimsical, “Please Don’t Hold Me Hostage for Who I Am, Who I Was” opens a festival of worldly sounds, complete with folksy flutes and acoustic percussion. Thanya Iyer’s voice sounds at once youthful and wise as she cheerfully delivers a straightforward message: You control your own life, you can choose to heal. She repeats the message, this time making it personal: “I take it in my own time / I make the choice to get better / Please don’t hold me hostage for who I am, for who I was.” She goes on to say “I could be a dancer,” a suggestion that it’s never too late to pursue a dream, regardless of the past. The bridge section introduces a musical departure, in which Iyer repeatedly declares, “I know in life there are highs and lows,” the bassline closely following her vocal melody, a stark contrast to the airy counterpoint of the verses. A breakdown follows, the music growing darker as the meter slows. Edgy synth and almost robotic rhythmic vocalizations grow in intensity until the tension releases and light breaks through, ushering a return to the original groove. Iyer repeats her original message: a reminder that we all have the power to guide ourselves out of darkness.

She’s back! It’s been almost two years since Canadian dream-pop sweetheart Helena Deland has released anything, but wow did she make the wait worth it. On its own “Lylz” is a brooding pop song full of grooving guitars and dark yet playful lyrics. However, as you begin to dive into Deland’s track, you find a touching, ominous, and eternal ode to friendship. The Boulanger sisters were a pair of composer sisters who swore to spread the musical genius of the other once one of them died. Nearly a century later Deland’s friend, Lylz, whom the song is named after, arranged a concert of the Boulanger sisters' music—giving inspiration to Deland and Lylz to make the same lifelong pact. “You’ll be famous / For burning / With desire / For everything,” swears Deland, as she commits herself to friendship and the never-ending desire for recognition.

LA-based hip-hop trio, Your Grandparents know we all need to slow down the mood a bit. A calendar year has passed since they released their first EP So Cold, and so much has happened in the world since then. Now more than ever, Your Grandparents are here to lift our spirits with their lusciously smooth new single "So Damn Fly."

This song is a crisp and ethereal nod to the soulful tracks from yesterday. "So Damn Fly" evokes the old, familiar sense of warmth of a vinyl record spinning at a chill session—much like the cover photo of the group hanging out in a basement illuminated by the light from a vintage lamp that your (excuse the reference) grandparents might've owned.

"So Damn Fly" reels you in with its ability to weave between a track perfect for background play and then abruptly snaps you back into consciousness with a rap section over the song's bridge: "Be as coldhearted as you please / All the causes can't be common / Contemplate on your beliefs / Seeking confirmation and conversations about killed dreams." Suddenly you're in the middle of a discussion about the damning elements of our current cultural landscape. There's nothing better than a little reprieve these days, just as long as we're all still paying attention. Photo by xoxohadas