There are few songs that can capture the eccentric high — the particular nostalgic fusion of elation and melancholy — of speeding through your hometown streets with the windows down. Everything around you is familiar down to the electricity in the air, but even though you may have a story for every insignificant landmark on the map, the pang in your stomach reminds you that, in many ways, what has changed most is you. Sometimes we outgrow places and, sometimes, it instead feels like they have outpaced us — as if our goals, dreams, and lives in general should have somehow been bigger by the time we’ve returned. Bleachers’ “45” nestles into this odd comfort; into the reckoning and glistening hope that we can feel all at once when we feel out of touch with the world around us. The track sees the soul of Bleachers, Jack Antonoff, construct this towering moment by swapping out his characteristic vintage synths for an acoustic guitar, light electronic tones and delicate vocal layering. Over this ethereal atmosphere, he sings of this disjointedness (“I'm torn exactly into two pieces / One who wants you and one who's gone dark”) and paints us a picture of two 45 records “spinning out of time.” Despite this, Antonoff reminds us that even in this looming gray uncertainty, the greatest thing we can do is give all we have to one cause: to endlessly seek and shine a light on the deepest and darkest parts of ourselves and those around us, and to love them, even when we feel like we might break. The anthemic chorus is undeniably true to form for Bleachers, who will leave you searching for the nearest yellow-lit concrete tunnel to speed through, aching to understand your love’s own legacy, singing, “But I'm still in sight / Your fast machine / Always holding your love supreme.” Photo by Carlotta Kohl.

From Phoenix singer/songwriter Danielle Durack comes “Broken Wings,” a cinematic tale of unapologetic self-awareness and accountability. In three distinctive parts, her warm voice leads the listener through the seemingly eternal liminality of unhappy love. “I don’t know what it is about broken wings,” she chimes over a gentle arpeggiation that escalates to a percussive drop. Here, the song’s confidence amplifies in unison with hers. An empty outro holds space for heavy sentiments of brutal honesty. “The hardest love's the one that I want,” she admits. Many of us have been this person, and Durack’s generous navigation empathizes with anyone who has been forced to over-explain the decisions of their captured heart. Photo by Eunice Beck.

Nilüfer Yanya’s “Crash,” co-written and produced by Nick Hakim, made David Bowie’s “Under Pressure” pop right into mind. Sonically the songs are distinct, but in my brain they commiserate with each other thematically.

You’ve been there. Maybe it’s been an intense week and you’re feeling a little confined, a little off balance. Or maybe you’re in the car with Current Lover and their passive-aggressive comments are about to tip you right off the edge of sanity. Either way, the pressure’s gathering at your temples like cyclical waves (Yanya’s pounding bass!) and coming to a head. “Crash” feels like an introversion, a welcomed collection of self. It takes inventory of just how far we’ve had it up to, acknowledging we may be due for some self-care or a little self-destruction (where the heavy drinkers at?). Giving us a few moments of decompression, the melody shifts halfway through the song before diving back in (with that bass) to confirm that time’s up: there’s no expending any more for anyone. At least for the moment. Featuring “Crash,” Yanya’s new three-song EP, Feeling Lucky?, arrives December 11 via ATO Records. Photo by Molly Daniel.

A band's choice of singles in the lead-up to their debut can go a long way towards determining how large of an audience they'll manage to capture. This is particularly true for independent acts such as West London's Babeheaven, whose full-length debut, Home For Now, is due out November 20. The band is already well into the promotional cycle, and the third single, "Craziest Things," has further entrenched their remarkably polished sound, with singer Nancy Andersen laying smooth neo soul-inflected vocals over bandmate Jamie Travis' tightly wound psychedelic grooves. During the chorus, Andersen almost seems to be feeding off of the energy that Travis' punchy guitar riffs inject into the track, lamenting about the familiar struggles of being kept up at night by intrusive thoughts. While being struck by anxiety or insomnia late at night is far from a pleasant experience, "Craziest Things" almost feels like a panacea to these problems; it might not cure your sleepless nights, but it will at least make you feel like you're not alone in experiencing them, and sometimes that's all we need to hear. Photo by raf_fellner.

Nashville-based indie-pop experimentalist Benedict sings of a fickle love that shoots from the hip in “Sport To You.” It is a wonder how easily tenderness and devotion can mirror themselves into manipulation and game. This track is a lively exploration of the desire to experience affection with and from someone, even in circumstances wherein they treat your fondness like a game. “Sport To You” is the first single from Benedict’s upcoming debut EP All I Ever Did Was Love You which is set to be released this winter. Benedict’s lyrics describing a capricious lover are met with layers of pleasant, mellow synth bringing a refreshing balance to despondency. Photo by Jasmine Archie.

Julien Baker's new track "Faith Healer" is an articulate and rich examination of escapism, and our need for creature comforts that tend to do more harm than good. Upon release of the track, Baker herself explained it this way: "I think that 'Faith Healer' is a song about vices, both the obvious and the more insidious ways that they show up in the human experience... For awhile, I only had the first verse, which is just a really candid confrontation of the cognitive dissonance a person who struggles with substance abuse can feel — the overwhelming evidence that this substance is harming you, and the counterintuitive but very real craving for the relief it provides." Baker doesn't delve into what those particular vices are for herself, but based on the title of the track, one obvious association is religion and its beauty and promise. The standout lyric that solidifies this image, "Oh faith healer, put your hands on me... I'll believe you if you make me feel something," makes the message clear: every person in their hidden heart wants a quick fix. We're all looking for the sordid, final balm to cure what ails us. Baker isn't offering any sort of solution or cure to our human condition in this track, but she is pointing toward the problem — and clearly articulating the problem always leads to the solution. "Faith Healer" is a poignant and intricate song that candidly observes a crisis of faith and a hunger for relief embedded in every human spirit. 

Baker's newest full-length record, Little Oblivions, is set to release on February 26 via Matador Records. Photo by Alysse Gafkjen.