PDLIF- "Please Don't Live in Fear" feels like a convoluted request right now. Much like Bon Iver's music, there is something quietly anxious and hopeful about the time we're living in. Each day seems like a Russian roulette of outcomes and emotions. But really good music is a highlight and a reminder of our humanity. Bon Iver's "PDLIF," released on April 17, has that ruminating quality that makes his artistry so excellent. After the first listen, the track feels somber and unassuming, but it's still loaded with immense depth and feeling. "PDLIF" is an internal wrestling of despair and optimism. It's a scale weighing options and opinions. A verse cries "I'd be good to fall back / I think we're on the wrong track somehow," all while balancing the delicate decry of the chorus: please don't live in fear. This song is far from a looming contradiction. It's a descriptor of an uncertain time, a moment in our hearts where hope's fleeting cries win over the primordial temptation to give up. This track was specifically made in support of the medical workers on the front lines of the coronavirus pandemic. Bon Iver has vowed to donate 100% of the song's proceeds to benefit those protecting the lives of the public from this disease (through the organization Direct Relief). This is Bon Iver's first studio release since Grammy-nominated i,i (outside of Blood Bank's 10th-anniversary edition release). Listen to "PDLIF" wherever you stream your tunes.

“Dazed,” the latest release from San Diego’s Postcard Boy is a mesmerizing meditation on the artist’s connection to his own art. The track opens with lush, open guitar chords that evoke vistas and far off horizons, perhaps echoing the artist’s own myriad thoughts. This track is overflowing with vocal treatments, moving in and out of characters that reflect the conflicted state of mind described by the lyrics: “Pushing me away / Is it even loving like that? / Pulling at me again / How can I keep loving you back?” By layering these vocals over a beat that defies the listener not to groove and a wide, distorted synth bass, Postcard Boy successfully creates a melancholy, romantic sonic world with space for thoughtfulness. It’s a space in which he “chose to be a ghost / in hopes that I could relearn how to love you right.”

Canadian alternative-pop artist, Emily Krueger, has just released her latest single “Gum.” Previously a part of the experimental duo Zoology, Emily is now fully focused on her solo career. This latest release further explores her love for pop melodies, while still staying true to her roots as a seasoned guitar player. The bounce of the electric guitar on this tune has you singing along without a word being sung. Just as the lyrics tell the story of being stuck on someone and not being able to move on, they do the same by getting stuck in your head. The line, “I found your gum in my pocket now I’m thinking of you,” is a great example of how even the slightest reminder of someone can have you right back in the palm of their hand. This is Emily’s fourth single release and sets the tone for an EP release set for later this year.

Distance between two people can be caused by a number of circumstances. Breakups, faraway homesteads, required or voluntary travel, state-mandated lockdowns, death. The reason for separation in “Lipstick Song” is not evident, but it seems to be driving the narrator of the story into madness. This barely three-minute vignette of modern love portrays what we’ve all experienced at one time or another: clinging to tiny objects for comfort in a loved one’s absence.

Porches front person Aaron Maine admits he’s put himself into a trance thinking about his beloved then does something not typically advisable: “Like a symbol I rode to the mall / Slow motion, I picked out a shade / Fantasy, I slid it across your lips.” There’s only one reason to buy something as personal and individual as a tube of lipstick for someone who may never receive it: to continue living in denial that said person is gone. It’s masochism at its sweetest: a longing that hurts so good, you never want it to end. Maine’s trance is lovely to listen to. The production is thoughtful and carefully balanced, beginning with a simple bassline melody and building to a carnival of electronic instruments and vocal harmonies by the second chorus. Even at its peak, there are no extraneous parts. While the most prominent synth lines are heavy and almost aggressive, together they weave a beautiful, heady spell. After listening to “Lipstick Song” while quarantined at home, you may feel compelled to scavenge around for your own relics of the past.

Amid the hellscape that is 2020, Purity Ring is here to soothe your quarantine blues. The duo teased “peacefall” on Facebook, calling it a song “to keep you company.” After years of radio silence, Purity Ring is on the cusp of releasing their first album in five years (WOMB drops today, April 3rd). Megan James and Corin Roddick from Edmonton, welcome back. The first releases of WOMB (“peacefall,” “stardew,” “pink lightning,” and “i like the devil”) show the duo sticking to what they do best: producing glittering, synth-forward pop that plays with syntax and swims through your ears. These are songs to listen to alone in your bedroom when the insomnia hits. More avant-garde than another eternity (which featured tracks like “push pull” and “heartsigh") early signs suggest WOMB is a return to the Shrines era Purity Ring—albeit with a more refined sound. "peacefall" is a gorgeous tale of finding peace in darkness. Hypnotic vocals by James are supported by backing vocals from Jonna Bjerre, “Ride like a maniac / Into, into the light.”

Despite being a vast and difficult to define genre, indie music in the 21st century has occasionally had to battle accusations of pretentiousness and self-seriousness. “Sway,” one of the standout tracks from Kansas-based indie upstart Jordana’s freshly released LP, Classical Notions of Happiness, stands in direct opposition to these claims. The woozy synths and subdued bass playing contrast well with the sharp hi-hats and clean guitar sections; altogether, it feels like a natural accompaniment to Jordana’s demure vocals. Her melody is so effortless that it feels like it could have been a first take, but the delivery is far too polished for that to be the case. The languid pacing of “Sway” meshes perfectly with the hazy, somewhat unstructured atmosphere Jordana carefully crafts throughout the duration. It is more difficult to create a meandering but purposeful piece of mood music than it seems—a track lacking an earworm chorus or real attention-grabbing piece of instrumentation can easily get lost in a modern music scene that is increasingly geared towards those with the shortest attention spans. “Sway” stands in stark opposition to these trends, an engaging piece of music made from a place of personal desire rather than one brought about by external forces, and the result is an effortlessly fun R&B-tinged romp from an artist who is thankfully just getting started.

Runnner’s latest release, “Ur Name on a Grain of Rice," is a melancholic but self-aware confessional that sweeps across the part of your chest reserved for heartbreak. This LA-based, seven-member ensemble could have walked straight out of the indie-folk scene of 2009, harkening back to the glory days of Dr.Dog, Iron and Wine, and Death Cab for Cutie’s acoustics. Sloping, winding vocals, reminiscent of Andy Shauf, are stretched over the steady pulse of the drumline and the chirping twang of a banjo. Met with the powerful swell of sax, horns, and vocal harmonies (including Helen from Skullcrusher), the layers build gradually over the length of this mesmerizing five-minute track and culminate in a euphony of textures, the singer repeating almost defiantly “I’m shouting it now, cos I can’t write it down, I’m letting it pour out the sides of my mouth.” With cutting observations like “I can’t stand to be alone, because it’s so easy to ignore me,” there is more than just yearning to the lyrics, there’s humility as well, underlining the all too familiar duality of doubt and desire. “Ur Name on a Grain of Rice” is a lush track that reminds us of the ways love teaches us personal growth; It’s something we want to deserve, but maybe aren’t ready to yet.

Melanie Faye charms on "It's A Moot Point," an intimate, new tune whose sickly sweet sound attempts to patch the holes in a flawed love. Her lush vocals shine on the track, driven by a relaxed backbeat as well as the jazz guitar prowess that made Faye viral in 2017 through a cosign from SZA. Contrary to the laid back nature of the song, Faye's lyrics expose her pain, allowing us to ponder exactly what the moot point in the relationship might be. "I hold on foolishly / To the only thing that means everything to me," she laments, suggesting that they had run their course. However, pleading in the chorus with "Give me one more chance babe and your mine now," Faye lands on a more hopeful note. While her Instagram is brimming with videos of guitar and bass riffs, clips of her singing are much less frequent, making the song a pleasant surprise to fans now hoping for more.

David You’s “Sand” is a gentle rumination on the intangible beauty of love. Born and raised in New York, the indie-folk artist layers soft angelic vocals over delicate acoustic fingerpicking and a light twinkle of the piano. The five-minute track is languid in its gratitude as he sings, “I wanna say / I am thankful for your love / you give me hope and trust.” Though the sound is almost mournful, the song is an ode to love and the peace it can bring. It explores the beauty in finding someone with whom you can completely be yourself and feel unashamed. You describes the way love can alter the passage of time singing, “now all the time / passes me like sand / slipping through my hands.” Though we long to hold onto love and happiness forever, it comes and goes at it pleases. “Sand” is the first track off of David You’s newest EP Beautiful, Like Pyramids.

French-Korean artist Claire Chicha, otherwise known as spill tab, creates mesmerizing electro-pop alongside producer David Marinelli. On their latest single, “Calvaire,” the two deliver an unstoppable bop that is as danceable as it is atmospheric. The vocal is lush and delivered in French, but you don’t have to know French to appreciate this banger. In a teaser for the music video accompanying the song, Chicha mentions “Calvaire represents shitty circumstances that can ruin life. Something overbearing.” This sentiment is relatable now more than ever before, as we isolate ourselves and navigate away from our “normal” lives. As troublesome as our current crisis might be, at least we have “Calvaire” to move us with it’s embellished, percolating beat.

Hey. Hello...hello? “Jupiter” begins with the ring of a phone call and what sounds like a one-sided conversation. It’s easy to get lost in this track, a gentle wash of strumming and percussion from The Marías. Lead singer María Zardoya’s vocals are spellbinding, as she sings about waking up next to someone you love, bathed in sunlight. She delivers sweet musings in breathy tones, “Maybe the photo’s out of focus, I can’t believe that no one noticed," never raising her voice beyond a few octaves. When you learn the band’s origin story, which begins with drummer Josh Conway approaching Zardoya at a gig in Los Angeles, the harmonies take on a deeper meaning.