During lockdown in the UK, Tiberius b’s debut EP, Stains, was born while the London-based artist moved to the Welsh countryside to care for their grandmother. While living there, the singer and producer had an artistic discovery contemplating the loss of relationships, heartbreak, sexuality and isolation. The melodic closing track "Tears into the Sun" captures the loss of near and far relationships throughout time.

Woven through the layers of synth-pop beats and guitar, the artist’s echoing vocals ask the listener questions like "How come we cannot drift away from it?” and "How do we have fun?" The song allows you to feel the heightened complexity of their drifting, emotive questions about those near and far from them. "Tears into the Sun" will certainly leave a lasting, euphoric effect as you reflect on the artists' questions unveiled. Photo by Dexter Lander.

There's something about juno roome's whole aesthetic that inspires warm feelings of nostalgia. The Brooklyn-based musician uses a dreamy photo of clouds for the background of his website, leaving the visitor with an immediate feeling of familiarity; it almost seems like roome is an old friend from our past, one we may not talk to regularly, but who maintains feeling of closeness through his music. 

roome's latest single “gardens” evokes multiple elements of those warm and happy memories of yesteryear. From the single's playful photo of a woman posing happily in front of a window perhaps made to look like an old snapshot, to the song's dream-like beat, coupled with roome's soft and almost breathy vocals, “gardens” is like coming back home no matter where you've been, a feeling heightened by roome's repeated and reassuring refrain of "I'll be here." 

On the other side of the song's familiarity and warmth perhaps lies the very reason why the song's narrator may need a bit of nostalgic reassurance; Roome also channels a collectively relatable felt sense of anxiety, singing, "I don't want to be inside / I don't want to lose my mind," before pivoting back to a comfortable wistfulness, bringing peace back to the forefront. juno roome's ode to returning to the well-known instead of constantly feeling trapped by the unknown will bring listeners back to basics, with no sense of pretense or apologies. Photo by Ann Feletto. 

Sudanese and Scottish singer/songwriter Eliza Shaddad is building a catalogue of intricate, intelligent rock songs. Her latest single "The Man I Admire" finds her in a dream, standing in a burning home, waiting for this man to "save her from the smoke, but he takes off his shirt instead." The sincere intersection of desiring protection and mutual affirmation from a man, all the while understanding your own legitimacy and ability to protect yourself, is a subject rarely broached in feminine songwriting. Eliza executes this masterfully here. This song is an empathetic peek into the heart of a woman standing in front of a man and asking him to adore her with no caveats. It's true vulnerability, and the lyrics of the first two verses—feeling scared of the dark and being alone in a burning room—illustrate this beautifully. The theme is so succinct and yet totally complete. That's what makes Eliza's poetry so excellent. 

Shaddad's first LP, Future, was released in 2018. "The Man I Admire" is one of four singles released this year ahead of her second album The Woman You Want. Pre-order The Woman You Want here, and look out for the UK-based singer on tour this summer. Photo by Flore Diamant.

Through her deeply personal and introspective lyricism, Olivia Kaplan’s songs stick with you. The latest track from her upcoming debut album Tonight Turns to Nothing showcases her talent as both writer and musician. With fuzzed-out guitars and a bass-heavy groove providing the perfect backdrop to Kaplan’s enchanting vocals, “Ghosts” is a track you can dissolve into. The song ponders on an ill-fated relationship and the external factors that affect our loves with the wisdom of hindsight. Both people’s inhibitions are explored in the hook with a heart-rending lyric: “I’ll watch you dance with your ghosts / If you say you love me the most.” The song’s instrumentation follows the dynamics of the story being told, ending with a glitched-out solo and a haunting shadow of regret as Kaplan belts out, “I sit and blame conditions / when I could have loved you if I tried.” Photo by Michelle Simunovic.

There’s a strange and powerful intimacy in Talk Bazaar’s "caught in limbo," the third track of his ambitious debut album oceanic. Talk Bazaar is the solo project of multi-instrumentalist Alex DeSimine, who also fronts the Brooklyn-based indie soul band Ritual Talk. Conceived and written during quarantine, oceanic boasts all the pertinent qualities that we’ve come to know of pandemic-recorded music: it's emotionally self-reflective, deeply introspective and, of course, personal. Even within the confines of his room, Talk Bazaar is not afraid to experiment. "caught in limbo" is extremely detailed and textured. Mixing folky acoustic guitar strums with intricate layers of electronic compositions and loops, the song’s style lands somewhere in between Alex G and Sufjan Stevens. While "caught in limbo" speaks to being stalled in a vulnerable and fragile emotional state, the song’s lyrics are written from the perspective of someone giving advice to another person (or persons), maybe to oneself. Fans of Ritual Talk will recognize DeSimine’s distinct hazy and soulful voice piercing through the song’s opening lines, "Of course you feel under / There's not a lot you can do." Immediately, DeSimine sets a tone of vulnerability. Then, at the end of the third and last verse, he sings, "You both are trying the best you know how," bookending the song with a powerful sense of forgiveness. Despite the devastating occurrences of the past year, whether it’s in the world or in one’s own private life, "caught in limbo" offers some healing. Photo by Sara Laufer.

As I sit in a coffee shop studying the world through my neighboring window, “walk,” the debut single from Zoom-born lo-fi trio fruit collective, scores the monotony of everyday life with an intimate kind of patience. Cars search for parking spots and people soak up the sunshine around me, but the pensive candor of “walk” asks me to question which of these beings may be in need of a break. We all have unique ways of grounding ourselves, whether that’s listening to a meditation, taking a nap or splashing cool water on our faces. It’s human nature to need to cope, to move away from a pressure that may feel overwhelming for one reason or another. Often these moments can feel so consequential that we’ll overlook their truest purpose: to deliver relief. “walk,” however, gives a voice to this anomalous counter-perspective. The remotely crafted track has sunshine weaved into its mellow sequence, exuding a kind of trust in the universe ornately highlighted by gentle guitar rhythms and reverberating harmonies. “walk” conquers the humility and self-control of knowing when to take a step back. As far as debut singles go, fruit collective’s refreshing and forgiving melodies on “walk” have left me appreciating life’s slower moments and while staying eager for more of their delightful breakout-room-grown tunes.