Bedroom pop phenom Clairo blossoms into a refined, yet unflinchingly sincere songwriter on her debut album Immunity, released August 2 via FADER label. With "Softly," Clairo gives queer girls an outlet to dance around their bedrooms full of youthful infatuation. It captures the subtlety of a soft brush of fingers and stolen glances in the early stages of an innocent crush without the pressure of labels on a relationship or sexuality. Wistful lyrics over a lax, off-rhythm guitar melody improvised by Rostam further the song's whimsical energy. "I got this feeling / Telling me girl, I gotta know," she croons in a way that young queer girls can look up to, while also tugging at the heartstrings of older queer girls who felt confused and repressed. As a children's choir echos "I don't care what they say" in the background, Clairo asserts that she's exploring her sexuality on her own terms; she's "doing it differently," and although some look down upon queer love, this blissful feeling is the only thing that matters.

“Time Is A Dark Feeling” is an emblem of the holistic incandescence that surrounds all creative endeavors of Florist, or Emily Sprague. This track is the second released from her upcoming LP Emily Alone, which is a departure from the Florist project, and in turn, a new submergence into self-reflection. In Sprague’s ever-thoughtful lyrics, there is something ancient being unearthed in terms of recognizing the oneness, as well as the multivalence of the self, which is reminiscent of, American poet, Adrienne Rich’s piece “Diving into the Wreck”. Of her exploration, her hushed voice sings: “Look through to see somebody / You knew and now you don’t”—gracefully brushing, her fingers through the passing of time that we all feel in separately, but know together.

Since Chairlift disbanded in 2017, Caroline Polachek has stayed busy working on a myriad of projects and collaborations, but “Door,” released via Columbia Records, is the first-ever single Polachek has put out under her own name. The track is an ambient and gorgeously eerie creation that has you feeling at times like you are suspended in a house of mirrors. “Door” features some of the same bewitching elements that Chairlift always delivered, but in it, Polachek pivots away from some of the peppier aspects and leans wholly into more atmospheric tendencies. The versatile artist counters the sharp synths and throbbing bass with her piercing vocals that glide easily over the swirling music. Listening to Polachek’s enchanting voice, you feel swept away in a romance that you don’t even realize you’re not apart of. Polachek’s music has worn many faces—Chairlift, Ramona Lisa, CEP—but this latest iteration of her work, in all of its glittering ambiance, feels akin to reading a fable or watching the stars. The track has been teased as the first single off of an upcoming album, although it’s hard to imagine it gets any dreamier than this.

You may know Brittany Howard as the powerhouse vocalist at the helm of blues-rock group Alabama Shakes, but on her debut solo track “History Repeats,” her performance is softer (though still not soft), subtler, and much more personal. It was released along with the announcement of a debut full-length titled Jaime, named after her late sister who taught her how to play the piano, and due out Sep. 20 via ATO Records. “History Repeats” is the opening track on the album. Funky and immersive, it’s quick to differentiate its sound from any of Howard’s other projects. A drumline pound coupled with a punching, urgent kick drum and psychedelic guitar open the track, evoking a sense of persistent unease over a smooth groove. Howard’s vocals are washed out and doubled as she sings about the exhausting inevitability of repeating old mistakes, adding to the hazy, twirling effect of the arrangement. “History repeats and we defeat ourselves / Come on everybody, one more time again,” she sings in the chorus, repeating the line over and over. The song ends on an audible phew from Howard, whose enormous effort fuels the song with a contagious vigor. Clocking in at just over three minutes, “History Repeats” shows an impressive display of growth from one of indie music’s strongest female voices.

Ritt Momney's track "(If) the Book Doesn't Sell" is a poetic fever dream in autotune totality. A half-ballad lament of religion long-forgotten (and evidently resented), the Mormon-raised Ritt Momney uses colorful storytelling to communicate his ongoing frustration with the worldview he was raised in. Though sung through an auto-tuned filter for the entire track, his vocals are somehow mesmerizing and very compelling. The conviction of his tone isn't lost because of this but is actually amplified by the auto-tune affectation. The message of Ritt Momney's "(If) the Book Doesn't Sell" seems evident and can be summed up simply by the lyric "The Devil speaks / Your God and I put all our differences to rest and the man's actions are his own, but man will blame us nonetheless." The artist is pleading to be taken seriously as he endeavors to determine his own beliefs regarding the divine and pleads with other kids being raised in religion to ponder their independence and humanity in a similar way. It's a song of genuine yearning and struggle that many coming-of-age types can relate to.

Sharp-toothed and honey slick: somehow Samia, the 22-year-old New York songstress whose warbling wit has captured the attention of acts like Father John Misty, manages both. The singer’s latest release, “Ode to Artifice,” stands as no exception, serving up a relatable dose of anxious self-reflection wherein she begs her authentic self and stage persona to just merge already! “Keep it together for both of us,” she pleads, her desperate itch for a confidence supplemented by more than just makeup and party tricks sanded down into an inviting, retro-groove. Such vulnerable self-cynicism—a phrasing that would sound utterly oxymoronic to the uninitiated ear—is nothing new to the artist, who often uses her work to explore the ugly and uncomfortable through a feminist lens. It’s enough to argue that Samia goes down kind of like a top-shelf whiskey; in her warmth and smoothness, there's a potency that will absolutely kick your ass if you’re not careful.