Certain performers possess a kind of earnest delivery — one that meets our ears in a deeply harmonious manner and allows us to better understand both the world and ourselves. Portland musician, Katherine Paul aka Black Belt Eagle Scout is one of those artists, and her debut album, Mother of My Children belongs to that rare breed. The record is a reflection of self/identity, loss, and what it means to belong to a place and a people whose face has been tainted over time. What does it mean to grow up within a group that so genially protects Mother Earth, when society has inflicted so much harm onto it? How do you identify as a member of this community when you too are constantly evolving? 

The third single off the album, “Indians Never Die,” probes these kinds of questions. Paul transforms anguish into something powerfully eternal. When she cries out, “Do you ever notice what’s around you? / When it’s all there, in the wake of you,” she is declaring the immortality of her people. Even though her ancestors don’t physically live forever, the customs and teachings they passed down are boundless. “Indians Never Die” works to reshape the way many of us think of heritage, identity, and human connection. The track is anchored by one ceaselessly repeated phrase, “wastin’ away.” It is through the unfeigned repetition of these two words that we can begin to understand why Indians never die.

Grace Gillespie, a London based artist and producer, has released a AA-side single “Lady Make Believe” / “England.” Gillespie says that “England” is largely is about being reconstructing her British identity during the fallout after Brexit. Gillespie’s raw debut “Restoration” was released earlier this year, revealing a tone similar to Bon Iver or Joni Mitchell. “England” is slightly more dream pop than her last release, with vocal harmonies humming over an acoustic guitar which jumps in and out of the song, providing texture and interest throughout. The delivery on the song is heartfelt and warm, allowing the lyrics to move to the forefront of the sound. Her delivery is impressive in its confidence and tenderness, making the work both calming and thought-provoking. We look forward to seeing where Gillespies career goes, and expect only beautiful work from her in the future.

Brooklyn-based lo-fi dream pop group, Triathalon has succeeded once again in creating an undeniably groovy (end of) summer bop with their latest release, “Distant.” As per usual, the track is flooded with wavy guitar lines, punchy bass, reverb-flooded vocals, and a mild dose of old-school R&B — a brand they have quickly established for themselves. The quartet’s commitment to planting a dreamlike landscape is fully exhibited in “Distant’s” chill, low-key sonic environment. Even the track’s lyrical content exudes feelings of drifting, laid-back days. The male-lead vocalist instantly places us in an all-too-familiar natural, suburban setting within the first few lines of the song, “I just wanna ride my bike / I’m just sick of always watching the news / I just wanna go outside / Spend the weekend way up top with a view.” 

Within the first seventeen seconds of "Distant", Triathalon manages to capture what it genuinely feels like at the end of the summer— whether you’re sixteen and dreading going back to school, or twenty-five and quaking at the thought of those long, sun-less winter months of work-related stress. No one is immune to the end-of-summer sadness, but everyone is constantly seeking an escape from their nostalgia. In fact, it doesn’t just come at the end of a season. We all long to escape from the real world more than just a few times a year. In “Distant,” Triathalon allows us to infinitely access that escape.

From the opening bends of “Hit or Miss,” BOYO saunters through the summery shimmer of psychedelia and sunshine. BOYO is the project of Los Angeles’s Robert Tilden, who, at only 22 years old, has created his own brand of surf rock too hip to be associated with those actual surfer boneheads. Instead, he takes a page from bands like Portugal. The Man, layering falsetto vocals and strumming with such heavy laid-back chorus effect as if to say, "I don’t even care if I’m in tune." What might appear sluggish or lazy if performed by others comes off as effortless and suave. This is the kind of California Cool-with-a-capital-C that must accompany discussing Films-with-a-capital-F, which, for the record, is something the BOYO Twitter account is full of. “I know / I’m hit or miss / Oh no,” Tilden worries, but it doesn’t seem to bother him too much.

Jillian Medford, the lead singer of IAN SWEET, has released “Spit,” the second track off of her upcoming album Crush Crusher. A song about preparing oneself for an oncoming breakup, “Spit” is strange in its curling imagery and the tone of a piece about predetermining heartbreak. Sure, the subtle scream that we have come to appreciate from IAN SWEET seems accurate to the feeling one would expect from a narrative such as this, yet their is a subtle sweetness on the track, maybe a yearning or a quiet question, but never anger. In this way, IAN SWEET has a knack for casually wrecking her audience. Although lines such as, “Open wide, let me see / If I am putting myself in danger again”, are devastating in content, they are delivered as an obvious step in any 21st century relationship. 

Although "Spit" should be shocking and chaotic in nature, it makes sense, each moment of the thought process that Medford is mapping for us is far too common to be appalling. The unusual and somewhat bizarre imagery of dissolving into someone else's spit exemplifies this. The imagery expresses a sentiment that it is not that we are waiting to be hurt, it is that we are waiting to be taken by someone, waiting to be taken by anyone. IAN SWEET  has thoughtfully constructed a song about expectations and the swipe left culture many of us are embedded in. She is working to consider how this mayhem we call hook up culture is shaping the way we allow ourselves to think about our relationships, our partners, and our own self worth.

Ritual Talk has released “Reminders,” a song which precedes their upcoming debut LP Plans.  A three part band with a plethora of instruments at the helm, the song is replete with melodies and beats that are sure to have you nodding your head on the subway. The song begins with the lines, “I know it’s always moving / so where am I to stand,” an image that reflects the sound of the work. “Reminders” is a well-constructed puzzle of intriguing sounds and lyrics, put together flawlessly. With guitar, keys, bass, several voices and the drums, the band uses each of their instruments to their fullest capacity, creating a layered and exciting sound. Although the song is filled to the brim with a variety of textures and individual moments, the work is never chaotic, but instead it moves along with the lyrics spontaneously. We expect a lot from Ritual Talk during these coming months, and can’t wait to hear the rest of Plans.

Hailing from Abbotsford, British Columbia, Scott Curie, who performs under the monkier Kuri, announces his new EP expected October 12. "Human Nature" the title-track off of the EP is a gorgeous track where Kuri analyzes the loss and changes in his life. Upon reflection he sees this song being about, "a breakup, a close friend moving away, and six people [he] saw every day disappearing from [his] life. With the heavy presence of strings and artful guitar picking, Kuri creates a beautiful yet somber landscape to accompany his realizations. "It's human nature to want something you'll never have," he sings with melancholy in his voice. Kuri approaches his songwriting by seeing himself in the third person. In this unique approach he is on the outside looking in and it's as if this perspective allows him to read the story of his life in a objective manner. In "Human Nature" we see Kuri making his peace with it all and as he sweetly sings his last note, it's as if he has.

The gentle grooves swirling around on “Seven,” the latest single from Montreal-based indie trio, Men I Trust, makes for a charming, smooth-rock sound that you might hear while rummaging around in a thrift store. Fueled by the bounce of Jessy’s bass line, keyboardist, Dragos, and vocalist, Emma, all bring their layers to culminate to a calming warmth. The track is understated but has a distinct brightness and is complete with a soothing guitar solo at the end. Let this track accompany you as you break out your favorite fall sweater and soak up the rest of the season’s sunshine!

Brooklyn's Eva Louise Goodman better known as Nighttime, describes her sound as "haunting and ethereal folk." With the release of her latest single "II (The Space Between)" off of her new album set to release next month, one is able to see exactly how this description came about. Not only does this song really embrace the essence of the artist's sound, but also her name. As the first verse repeats "Night after night after night" the image of nighttime fills our minds accompanied by a bright moon that illuminates the darkness while also drawing attention to it. Goodman tastefully utilizes loops and layers, many of them echoing one another in lullaby-like fashion. There is a mystic wonder in "II (The Space Between)" as if the one who is leaving "you with this in mind" is not of this world. Like a vision or a dream, Nighttime's hazy voice subconsciously enters your psyche leaving you to wonder what is real. Be sure to see Nighttime take the stage with fellow Brooklyn artist Mutual Benefit and catch the release of Hand in the Dark out October 12!

There isn't a better coupling than autumn and new Iron & Wine. While the temperature chills there is a warmth in Sam Beam's voice and lyrics that is comforting and familiar. Whether he is singing about a flightless bird or asking a former love to not forget him in the nine minute and thirty-one second masterpiece that is " The Trapeze Swinger," Beam's skill of imagery is unmatched. In "What Hurts Worse," Beam looks inward in a more practical way urging us to become better than the ones that hurt us. "Let's become the lovers we need," he says, a cry to break the cyclical nature of hurt people hurting other people. Beginning with just a kick drum, there is a sort of tossing sensation that occurs, similarly to the way we can throw around negative emotions and experiences to rid ourselves of them. Beam is impassioned with these thoughts when he sings them, showing that they are coming from a genuine and knowledgeable place. "What Hurts Worse" ends with a droning effect that repeats the lines "Let's become the lovers we want / Let's become the lovers we need." in hopes that the repetition will stick in your head and make its way down to your heart. Check out the rest of the Weed Garden EP out now!

Hailing from Montreal, 26-year old singer-songwriter Helena Deland recently released her latest single “Lean on You” off of her upcoming EP, From the Series of Songs “Altogether Unaccompanied” Vol. III and IV. “Lean on You” begins slowly with Helena Deland singing along to the cooing of a guitar. The Montreal singer serenades, “Holding back, putting away / every perverted thing I’ve thought of saying / to you,” and with a gentle purpose, echoes the last line. In her hazy, thin-as-smoke voice, this line hums like a spell she is reciting to herself. Deland’s most recent ballad is quiet, but filled with urgency. Helena Deland’s voice is strong when she pushes, “I don’t need / to lean on you, no,” but there is a soft underbelly to the song, that suggests otherwise. “Lean on You” ends with Helena Deland humming softly alongside a steady rhythm, like waves crashing onto the shore — consistent, but somehow still mystifying and beautiful.