Creature Comfort’s "Woke Up Drunk" begins as a simple, feel-good indie folk track. Lighthearted, tuneful arpeggiations twinkle like the stars just before dawn. The lyrics balance deliberate rhyme schemes and stream-of-consciousness quips. Strung together, the words tend to wander down unmarked trails as much as they sit ruminating. Harmonies swirl around the central image of the song: taking a hike to process all the thoughts dripping through your brain, slightly hungover and itching to move. They’re not all bad thoughts, but they’re not all good ones. You’re holding love and resentment in your chest and hoping it’s just a matter of sweating it out. It almost is — but then the bridge hints that you end up letting in as many emotions as you release. After a few listens on repeat, you notice the seeds that build to that final climax. Drums that nudge the tempo ever-so-slightly forward. Vocal chorus harmonies that dip into suspended resolutions. The introduction of an electric lead guitar that slowly becomes more distorted, coiling around a violin melody until they become intertwined. It’s a divine texture shift that’s surprising and perfectly foreshadowed.

Montreal-born and New Jersey-raised R&B artist Love Mansuy’s newest single “Calm Me Down” explores the vulnerability necessary in a romantic relationship. In his sweet and smooth voice, Mansuy sings, “What good is being honest if it doesn't cut deep? / What good is what you wanted if it's not what you need?” over minimalistic beats—allowing Mansuy’s voice and lyrics to be the main focus. The song circles around trust as an integral part of a healthy relationship. He continues with a sweet declaration: “You know how to calm me down / 'cause you mean that much to me.” A sweet and melodic love song that understands what love actually needs to thrive in the long term, “Calm Me Down” is the newest single off of his upcoming EP (món-swee) Side A, which is due out September 18.

On the tongue-in-cheek “Sad4Good,” Llusion breaks up the monotony of quarantine with help from Cautious Clay and HXNS. Glitchy and eccentric production bring elegance to the bedroom pop tune, crafting the perfect foundation for distorted vocals to state simply, "We're all alone, all alone anyway" and "I wanna be sad for good." I, like many of you, first found joy in not having to put pants on every day; however, as we enter week "who knows?" of our new normal, I'm facing some underlying anxieties as I find myself waking up anywhere from 8 am to 2 pm, never knowing what day of the week it is, questioning how many of the societal structures in life are real. In Llusion's world, if life has become nothing but refried beans and feeling trapped within four walls, it begs the question, what's left to lose? Llusion's irreverent approach to existential ennui over a bouncy beat offers a much-needed two minutes of relief from what feels like a dark age, and there's some ironic peace to accepting that "if everything hurts, then it couldn't get worse.”

Ruth B. rehashes old heartache on “Dirty Nikes,” a melancholy R&B single that longs for what once was. It’s a special sort of longing to be homesick for a person, and Ruth B. captures it beautifully, reminiscing on late night talks, aimless drives and promises made in the quiet spaces in between. Minimalist in its production, the track focuses on highlighting her haunting vocals, for which she initially went viral on Vine. “It makes me sick that I'm still singing 'bout you,” she whines; no matter how long it’s been, sometimes all it takes is one pair of dirty Nikes to know that you’ll never fully forget.

—

taco bell is taking shredded chicken
off the menu and it’s got me thinking

about the backseat of your car
at 4 am, first kisses and ghost stories;

about white orchids dipped in gold, 
stepped-on toes slow dancing;

about allen stone and chamomile tea,
about strep bacteria festering in a twin-sized bed.

i wonder if a new girl, some pretty blonde 
sits across the table, eating the tomatoes from your salad.

Divino Niño sure can whip up a tune. The Chicago, Illinois indie rockers' latest, “Made Up My Mind,” is John Cusack with a boombox outside your window. A heartbroken ballad pleading for a second chance at love and life. Though the track stays stylistically close to home for the band, the addition of a small brass section featuring Sen Morimoto and Whitney’s Will Miller brings a new depth instrumentally that has you hearing something new with each listen. Lyrically, the song takes on a lovesick feel as the singer serenades, “I made up my mind (forever wanna be by your side) / I just had to give life a chance / To come and show me what it could be / If I messed up fucked up everything we got.” Is this a topic we have heard before? Yes. But will we get sick of Divino Niño songs about this? Probably not. Their bilingual approach, swirling synths and infectious harmonies create an instant feeling of warmth and nostalgia that lets the listener place themselves within every track, and “Made Up My Mind” is no different. Photo by Alexa Viscius.

There is a certain wildness and movement in “Material Life” that could awaken dusty bones. The eclectic release by indie-rock duo Lightning Dust, comprised of Amber Webber and Josh Wells, is a commentary on the need for more. There is always this desire in us for something deeper, something more valuable to dig into, giving us the feeling that we cannot and will not belong, that perhaps there is more for us that we have not yet been greeted by. The track begins with a steadiness, and at its midpoint slows down to say, “I’m in a world I don’t belong,” creating relevance within itself to the nature of being.

Angel Olsen’s “(New Love) Cassette” is a gorgeous rumination on the feelings one experiences when starting a new relationship. Her haunting, emotive vocals, drenched in reverb, convey longing in the midst of limerence. “I’m gonna show you love all of the time / Gonna be your breath when you’re out of life / Love / Free / Take / Me,” she sings earnestly. The simple arrangement—the version on the album Whole New Mess is stripped back guitar/voice vs. the lush, full version featured on 2019’s All Mirrors—is striking and heartbreakingly honest. This song is the perfect balance of bittersweet and nostalgic—a tune for anyone missing the dreamy and unraveling emotions that come with falling in love with someone new. Listen wherever you stream. Photo by Kylie Coutts.

Boston-based singer-songwriter Anjimile reckons with ways their demons have caused hurt to a lover on “Baby No More," a modernized bossa nova tune more harmoniously balanced than the relationship itself. "Scary / What I done and might do," they open, a fragile moment of self-awareness, yet inability to stop themselves from doing more damage. Referring to themselves as "King Heartbreaker," their lightly rasped vocals send a simple message, the only fitting end for a doomed relationship: "I can’t be your baby no more."

For the greater part of 2019, I found myself in the thick of it. Drinking heavily more nights than not and equally as addicted to an emotionally abusive relationship, my sense of self was all but torn to shreds. Much like Anjimile, "I quite literally felt like I was losing my mind, vis-à-vis alcoholism," though it was my close friends whom I hurt the most. While the fresh, upbeat nature of "Baby No More" contrasts some of the darker lyrics, for me, the levity mimics the relief that comes with detaching yourself where you need to; it's that second of clarity, seeking help and coming out better for it. Anjimile's debut record Giver Taker, which will delve further into mental health struggles and coming out as transgender, is due out September 18 via Father/Daughter Records.