Jamila Woods’ Toni Morrison–inspired “SULA (Hardcover)” has a sensual groove, and revolves around what it means for her to be in her own body. She rejects the notion that women should be submissive when it comes to their sexuality, stating “I don’t wanna make no babies / I don’t need a man to save me” in a sharp, searing tone. “Freedom and triumph, they weren’t meant for me / Girls of my color find something else to be / I’m better / I’m better,” she then sings effortlessly over the rollicking beat. As an empowered Black woman, she reflects on the boxes Black women have been forced into for centuries, and in turn creates a sonic oasis where she can feel comfortable being herself without having to worry about society’s pressures closing in on her. A fascinating exploration of the erotic and the unique kind of intimacy that one can only have with themselves, “SULA (Hardcover)” is a moving anthem of self-love and bodily autonomy. Listen on Bandcamp or wherever you stream.

From Norwegian singer/songwriter Juni Habel comes “Run Dry,” a delivery, as if from nature, made of an honest emotional outpour through instrument and voice. On her second single, not only does she sing with ethereal character, but she uses her voice intuitively to welcome her listeners into a romantically trying experience. Over gorgeous guitar arpeggiation, she sings with confessional spirit that longs for a response greater than the one she has been given thus far. Habel’s storytelling abilities are governed by her ability to express corresponding feelings through melodic interpretation, and her images of human interaction are painfully accessible. It is clear that she is in touch with something beyond us—perhaps beneath us. Photo by Andrea Hovik.

Faye Webster’s latest single “Better Distractions” further cements her laid-back sound, which comes together to be an unexpected combination of R&B, classic country and indie rock. “Got two friends that I could see, but they got two jobs and a baby / I just wanna see you,” Webster croons longingly over slide guitar, a bassline that is hard not to sway along to and delicate keys that brighten up the track. The verses are breathless sentences of boredom and yearning that swell into a singular message as she repeats, “Will you? Will you? Will you? Will you? Will you? Will you be with me?” The accompanying video furthers the dreamy and detached feeling of the song as Webster seemingly floats through her day singing deadpan into the camera. This hazy dissociative quality is somewhat of a through line in Webster’s work, and it pairs well with her distinctive vocals that are impossibly both pleading and detached. Photo by Brandon McClain.

Blvck Hippie welcomes listeners to the street of their childhood home in their newest single, “Rhodes Ave.” This nostalgia- and jazz-infused track conveys the strange dichotomy of, as frontman Josh Shaw describes, “the childhood feeling of wanting to live up to expectations with the grown-up experience of never feeling like enough.” Likewise, the verses chime in with a youthful flare, eventually condensing into the light fog of the chorus. Entering the chorus is what entering a cavernous home is like—first expecting familiar comforts, before tragically rearing back into a desperate search against the desolation. In his dwellings, Shaw wonders, “Are you here? / Is anyone home?” The question melds itself into a howl—a wolf’s call to all that’s gone. While the feeling of emptiness is shrouding, “Rhodes Ave” is open to all who come by—both uninvited, and alone.

On "Survive With Me," Michael Flynn finds a perfect balance between mischievous fun and severity. “Tell them that the world they love is never coming back,” he croons, “guess they should have put their faith in scientific fact.” It’s rare for an artist to manage such masterful sarcasm, but Flynn does it with ease. By setting little quips like “The paint is peeling off the moon” and “we’ll build a nest of thoughts and prayers,” over a classic Americana-style rock band, Flynn makes it clear that, while he is fed up with the hypocrisy of our times, he is still an American who intends to make it through. Maybe even to thrive, with some luck. Flynn’s voice is welcoming, almost chuckling at the absurdity he’s describing. The guitar’s distortion is just warm enough to make us feel like we’re at a local show. “Survive with me,” he invites us. Somehow, it might be the most hopeful message we’ve heard lately. 

Flynn's full album, Survive With Me, is out on October 13. Photo by Nathan Baerreis.

Back with their second single of the year, Sun June delivers another beautiful tune. The crux of the song finds the narrator waiting for the inevitable, “Waiting for [their] head to roll.” As the song progresses, that message grows stronger. But there’s no fear. The strength comes in acceptance, in moving forward. What stands out, in light of this courage, is the ease of the song. From the guitar sliding from chord to chord, to vocals gently observing the scene, the entire band is so comfortable and warm. And, it does feel like acceptance, like you can almost hear the smile peeking out around each “head to roll.” That feeling becomes explicit half way through. In a moment where the band could launch into an angry and elevated bridge, they choose the opposite. Pulling back completely, making room for the vocals and a hazy synth. Adding background vocals to support the earnest plea to move on. It’s with that support, and encouragement from the rest of the band’s new added energy, that lead singer Laura Colwell has a moment to shine, giving each delivery of the lyric a new sound and new shape. A charming and inviting sunny morning of a song.