The plea is immediate—a curious narrator, a curious band. It sounds like Bantug is coming to us live from the image on the cover; it's a bit constrained, a bit uncomfortable, embodying that Sunday feeling—dreading the potential of what’s to come. As the first verse begins to loosen up, Bantug admits that much of this familiar pain is internal. Keeping it hidden from those around her out of fear of “being misunderstood or given / A pity that [she’s] never wanted." It's such a beautiful lyric with genuine vulnerability, and in this moment, the song feels all the more generous. It’s so hard for many of us to share these intimate fears and pains, as doing so can leave so much room for judgment. It takes trust in those we share with, something we might not have earned here, but Bantug is willing to offer it to us anyways. And how lucky we are. Just opening up ever so slightly here feels like a huge weight off the track’s spirit, propelling us into this gorgeous guitar-driven chorus. The drums offer an undeniable groove and Bantug steps into the spotlight, reaching up for a stunning melody. We settle back into a second verse, frustration building as every attempt to break from these fears leads us right back to them. The chorus explodes again, just as powerful and magnetic. Adding in a xylophone and strings gives the bridge a brand new texture, layers of vocals capturing the tension. The pre-chorus comes back, now just Bantug and some gentle keys, upping the intimacy and authenticity of these emotions. Starting with the bass, we feel the momentum building again. The driving force gives it a sense of optimism and assuredness we didn’t have before. Dancing our way out even if the feelings stay, or return, we know we’re in control now. It’s a beautiful single following two other terrific and dynamic releases in 2021 for Bantug, and we're excited to see what the Nashville artist has in store next. Photo by Kirt Barnett. 

Flyte, the indie British rock band, has released another single from their forthcoming album This is Really Going to Hurt, dropping April 9. "Under the Skin" is the fifth single Flyte has released since May of last year. This series of sincere and thoughtful singles have tapped into a deeper, more intimate part of Flyte's songwriting. From the heartbreaking and cutting "Losing You" to the contemplative "Never Get to Heaven," their next LP is bound to launch the London-based trio into the indie spotlight. 

"Under the Skin" is a perfect representation of what Flyte does incredibly well as a band: it's excitable, catchy rock music with contemplative, nuanced lyricism. But similar to the themes of the song, it's not a tune that's asking you to take it too seriously. The speaker begs someone to not give up on them, to not look their issues too hard in the face, but instead to let them in. "Under the Skin" serves as a lighter break in the stream of singles that we've heard from This is Really Going to Hurt, but it's hardly pulling any punches, and it stands alone as maybe the strongest single they've put out for the record thus far.

The writing for their upcoming album is laced with echoes of a turbulent time for the band. The singles' themes have varied from impassioned storytelling to melancholic longing. This ability to balance various themes and produce a cohesive piece of work is part of what makes Flyte so exceptional. Their premiere album, 2017's The Loved Ones, was a romantic and explosive introduction to their round indie rock sound. A band with a break-out album that self-actualized doesn't have anything to prove, but these latest releases have proven that Flyte has nowhere to go but up.

Stream "Under the Skin," and be on the lookout for their upcoming LP This Is Really Going to Hurt. Photo by Jan Philipzen.

Brooklyn duo Jordan Dunn-Pilz and Dan Alvarez, better known as TOLEDO, have just released their highly anticipated sophomore EP, Jockeys of Love. After the release of multiple atmospheric singles such as “It’s Alive!” and “Challenger,” it was clear that listeners could expect loads of goodness from TOLEDO. “Sunday Funday” is a song wrapped in catharsis—it is a recognition of the desire to hold space for someone dealing with alcoholism. Within this track is a sort of gleam effect, with shiny sounds of layering voices and enchanting, light-floating riffs. While singing about a very tender situation, fraught with discomfort, TOLEDO has a way of making the dismal truths of addiction sound glossy and a little bit easier to sit with while still addressing despondency. Photo by James Lynch.

Sometimes what you really need is a slow song about sad days. Sometimes only the sound of a guitar strung slowly and the folk vocals of an indie assemble can save you from a dark and cold winter night. The German have a word for the melancholy caused by the state of the world: Weltschmerz. And that world maybe perfectly captures what The Collection gives us with their new single "Blue Day." The North Carolina-based septet wrote, recorded and released the perfect manifestation of that sneaky feeling of sadness that you just can't shake. When even in beautiful days, that feeling that something is wrong and the blues are just at bay lingers. The Collection spent 2020 making music that perfectly represents the uncertainty of our times and the feeling of figuring yourself out when nothing is the way it used to be. "Blue Day" is the epitome of that and it already rises our expectations about what 2021 will look like for the band. Photo by Cory Wood. 

Contrary to what the title may suggest, Faerie’s “White Noise” is far from static. A sonically lush and textured synth-pop delight, the song comes out of 2am, her short but sweet EP debut. The song balances an intimate, electro-pop sound of the likes of Caroline Polacheck with a contrasting sense of dramatic, colorful synth-pop reminiscent of artists like CHVRCHES or MS MR. “White Noise,” which delves into getting over a past relationship, doesn’t lament but instead celebrates being satisfied with one’s own space. By the time the song’s hook comes in, “Give me a minute / My space to breathe,” you’ve already stood up to dance. Filled with synths, background vocals, and satisfying beats, the song takes whatever space it needs. The title is then a possible reference to that dreadful silence heard when a phone call goes unanswered, but Faerie turns that around, coveting that silence rather than fearing it. In the end, she pulls through triumphantly, “I don't need your love to feel at ease,” she concludes. 

Behind Faerie, there’s Christine Joyce Lam, a promising NYC-bred singer-songwriter whose combination of imaginative, colorful songwriting and powerful, cunning vocals make for an ideal artist to look out for. The song is co-written by two collaborators: Christian Young (ImTrying) and Jonathan Atkins (wavcat). Together, they make this deeply enjoyable and satisfying track, which makes for an ideal quarantine listen—a fun and perfect dance party for one. Photo by Brian Scagnelli.

Dorvin Borman’s latest single “Pressure Valve” carves a unique sonic space somewhere between Blue Öyster Cult and Real Estate; dream-pop with a timeless, yet loose, psych-rock energy. Self-written and recorded in isolation, Borman’s hazy vocals wrapped in hypnotic lo-fi riffs capture the essence of the days we have all wasted, at one point or another, on the couch with takeout, wrapped in our own existential dread. Halfway through, the beat picks up and mirrors the feeling of racing thoughts as it takes on a groove slower yet similar to Peter Bjorn and John’s “Young Folks.” The last lines of the song hear Borman echo a sentiment familiar to anyone who’s experienced this kind of hours-melting anxiety binge, with a sigh of resolve: “I’d be happy to be fine.” On days when it feels like there’s not a lot to celebrate, having no complaints can be more than enough. Somedays, simply neutral emotions are welcome—and so is the music that reminds us of this. Photo by Felicia Lim.

Crafted from an analog of songs originally written over a decade ago, Bird Fight has dropped a five-track EP called Hugshake. It's a vibrant and experimental collection of intelligent production and intricate vocalization. Using household, commonplace items for varied instrumentation and percussion, the producer and vocalist duo of John Katona and Christian Ohly make music that feels progressive and kinetic. "Traffic Lights" in particular possesses an ethereal and haunted energy. It's a delicate embodiment of their self-proclaimed genre "folktronica;" The song's movement and sound have a more pronounced electronica element, while the subject and tone contain folk sentiments. This track is a lover's lament that frustratingly pleads with its subject to reciprocate the speaker's efforts in the relationship. Hugshake dropped on February 12. Give it a listen wherever you stream!

Turbulent times call for self-discovery on "Peace At Last," the first 2021 single from California-bred Tim Atlas. Syrupy-sweet vocals soar over fine-tuned retro production while LA-based duo honeywhip lend their lo-fi sensibility to the track, laced with new wave synths and a bouncing bassline. On a blind listen, "Peace At Last" is a joyful exploration of personal identity when Atlas sings, "Just trying to be myself / But who is that?" to open the song's chorus. But these lines run deeper than that, as Atlas alludes to the events, perceptions and external pressures that have shaped us in the year 2020. We wonder if we'll ever see the end—to COVID, to senseless systemic violence on the Black community, to collective political anxiety— and the future is daunting. While many of us have fought for distractions and felt forced to stay productive, "burning the candle at both ends," Atlas insists that it's always possible to come out stronger. "Taking [my mind] apart to the first draft" is an invitation to start over, and "Peace At Last" is Atlas' reminder that we are more than the pains we've endured. Photo by Tim Atlas.