It is an unequivocal fact that Baby Rose has one of the most unique voices of this decade. From her appearance on "Without You" with Insightful, to being featured on Ari Lennox's Shea Butter Baby Tour, to the August release of her first album, the Atlanta artist is having quite the year.

A lyrical weightiness, coupled with a sultry, cavernous voice in "Show You" underscore a maturity and musicality not often found in many peers of Baby Rose. Certainly a reflection on an uncertain relationship, lines like "Tell me baby / How you like me now? / Wasn't life beautiful / When I was around?" sit delicately atop classic R&B hi-hats and a jazz-inspired bass line. Filled with equal parts feeling and energy, "Show You" demonstrates only a fraction of the versatility, talent, and timelessness encapsulated in Baby Rose's music.

Pensive and soulful, Yianna's latest, "If I Never Left" joins both "Heavy Waters" and "Hard Pill To Swallow" as her latest single before the heavily anticipated release of her debut EP. With a hopeful and emotional tone, this introspective track looks back at how the experience of a broken and unhealthy relationship can build one into an even stronger person than before. The titular lyrics "If I never left / I would be a different person than I am today" certainly evoke a feeling of triumph from a familiar pain. Powerful vocals and writing take this track to the next level and its R&B undertones make for a smooth sound that certainly has us excited for her next release.

Bedroom pop phenom Clairo blossoms into a refined, yet unflinchingly sincere songwriter on her debut album Immunity, released August 2 via FADER label. With "Softly," Clairo gives queer girls an outlet to dance around their bedrooms full of youthful infatuation. It captures the subtlety of a soft brush of fingers and stolen glances in the early stages of an innocent crush without the pressure of labels on a relationship or sexuality. Wistful lyrics over a lax, off-rhythm guitar melody improvised by Rostam further the song's whimsical energy. "I got this feeling / Telling me girl, I gotta know," she croons in a way that young queer girls can look up to, while also tugging at the heartstrings of older queer girls who felt confused and repressed. As a children's choir echos "I don't care what they say" in the background, Clairo asserts that she's exploring her sexuality on her own terms; she's "doing it differently," and although some look down upon queer love, this blissful feeling is the only thing that matters.

Indie pop artist Someone’s new song “Playground Love” sounds like walking through a dream. The opening track on her new EP, Airspace, showcases ambient, spacey synths, twinkling, reverberating keys and raw guitar tones working together to create soft, pumping mood music. Someone’s vocal, sung just above a whisper, is dark and velvet-smooth as she beckons her lover like a siren: “I’m your high school lover / And you’re my favorite flavor.” She holds your attention as the instrumentation builds, even when it’s not clear where her voice ends and the strings begin. The lush composition is mysterious and surprising, using slapping percussion and deep, swinging bass to give the song a pulse while amplifying the strings to emphasize the song’s hopeful, emotional center. Perfect for those quiet, contemplative hours of the night, “Playground Love” is soothing and surreal.

“Hologram Lover,” premiering today from Brooklyn-based songwriter and instrumentalist Jesse and Forever, is a lush and full amalgamation of pulsing, eerie soundscapes and catchy, head-bopping beats. The track is just two minutes long but has an arresting composition, packed most notably with nostalgic samples, a groovy bass line, and grungy, rippling guitar. Jesse Scheinin’s vocal—dreamy and wistful in a hypnotic soprano—is transfixing as it guides you through the arrangement, keeping you hooked even though specific lyrics are sometimes hard to make out. Hazy, atmospheric moments awash in oohs which are offset by strikingly clear lines like “You can lie to your friends but you can’t lie to me.” It’s a distorted but pleasant listening experience where latching onto the vocal forces you to lose yourself in the arrangement, and once more, you’ll love every second of it. Surrealist and vibrant, “Hologram Lover” is a unique and carefree party song.

Pearla, the folk-tinged project of Brooklyn-based songwriter Nicole Rodriguez, has a knack for evoking worlds that exist slightly off-center. On her recent release "Quilting", Rodriguez's imaginative lyricism is on full display as she weaves esoteric sentiment into her reflections on love and loss. Smoldering, dreamlike production and a kaleidoscope of sounds—like the creaking of a closing door, or humming overheard from the next room, settle like a haze over Rodriquez's steady folk lilt. Aching turns of introspection—"I should be fine on my own / I was born there / now I’m reaching out with both hands and nothings there"—pull us from the abstract into her inner world, where she parses through the notions of isolation and impermanence. Check out our recent Buzzsession with Pearla, where she performs two tunes from her upcoming release Quilting and Other Activities, out Sept 6 via Egghunt records.

Marika Hackman unveiled a dynamic, emotive, and unapologetic dose of intimacy in her new album Any Human Friend, which dropped August 9 via Sub Pop Records. Wedged right in the middle is “send my love," a track that doesn’t fail to grasp your attention. Hackman captures the biting mix of feelings that arise when something comes to an end with her poignant songwriting and swirling production. The harshness and self-deprecation ripple from beginning to end, “Are you coming home to feel alone / Did you love me tonight, or any night of our lives / It's never gonna be like it was before.” It’s an effort to put herself in the other person’s shoes and examine a turning point in a relationship that can’t seem to be undone. "Send my love" is a sort of reckoning in the aftermath of a difficult situation, which we’ve all experienced in one capacity or another.