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.

Spoiler alert: we’re living in a pandemic. It’s weird. It’s raw. It’s denial with existential dread bubbling underneath, and beyond even that, it's moments of joy that feel absolutely wild in their daring and stolen existence against their reality's backdrop. Brooklyn/Jersey City-based Exnations’s single “Love in the Time of Quarantine” is the glossy, gorgeously produced, retro-pop anthem that this moment in time has birthed. 

It kicks off pulsing, with some expansive reverb-y electric guitar reminiscent of The Cure, opening up to its rousing cinema-ready chorus (Jack Antanoff is, I expect, clapping somewhere in NYC, wishing he’d been able to be part of this one). Its lyrics are simple and honest, surprisingly poignant. “We get high, we get low, we got nowhere else to go / When this is all over, I’ll be lyin’ in the grass with you." As someone now gearing up for a shotgun-style elopement rather than a ‘real’ September wedding, “Love in the Time of Quarantine” might as well have been playing behind every one of my partner’s and my hard conversations and glorious nights spent butchering Salsa Dancing 101 on Youtube, terrified, but together. It’ll be hard to find anyone who doesn’t see themselves in this song’s message of hope and shared resiliency, especially in their native New York.

Follow Exnations, put “Love in the Time of Quarantine” on, stare out a window, and let that pocket of joy take you. Well done, Exnations; you've captured a slice of history in song.

Bushwick-based indie rockers My Son the Doctor have released the carefree anthem “Fork,” an upbeat ode to letting loose with your friends via 90s-style grunge rock and dancing like nobody's watching. The cool arrangement is stripped down to its garage-rock essentials but filled with an infectious energy. Tight, muffled drums, low, groovy bass, and shredding electric guitar strike a rebellious tone, imbuing the instrumentation with a loose attitude and giving vocalist Brian Hemmert room to shine. Clear and commanding, his voice is full of the kind of angst and yearning reminiscent of early aughts-era Modest Mouse or Spoon, and his lyrics are just as quippy and memorable: “So you croon your craft / Crack and scream the hits away / And I’ll pretend you’re my best mistake.” Upbeat and pulsing with a contagious energy, “Fork” is catchy and cool, and will make you want to have a solo dance party in your room. The track is only the second release for the quartet and precedes their debut EP Dad Time out at the end of the month.

The Sacramento-based indie skate rock quartet, Güero has for several years created fun music, influenced by and best enjoyed in the outdoors. Their most recent release, "Waiting" sets the scene for their upcoming album and encourages you to go back and explore the band's previous projects. This track brings you to a place of comfort and introspection as it builds to an exciting, rather unanticipated bridge—leaving pockets of space with stripped-down instrumentation along the way, which allow you to fill in the blanks with your own thoughts and sentiments. Güero'ssound flows in a very soothing, unceasing manner like the constant crash of a wave or the wind's incessant howling through the trees. This group's love for natural life is reflected in their music in a truly magical way.

Sketchy Lines is the moniker of Swedish artist Fredrik Kjellman. Evoking dark, sentimentalist singer-songwriter sounds, similar to Conor Oberst or Death Cab, Kjellman's music is a cohesive mixture of soft, post-punk rock and deep indie-folk. Kjellman's music harkens to the era of emerging folk/pop that amassed popularity for artists like Ben Folds and Sufjan Stevens. Sketchy Lines is still fresh, making music that feels familiar but intimate. His latest single, "Not Claiming Anything," is an easy-listen track about the appreciation of connection. Released on April 30, this song was dropped in the heart of the coronavirus pandemic, making its themes all the more piercing. Kjellman croons about wanting to take every risk for the possibility of new love. "I would spare no expense / I'd be placing a bet." Putting yourself out there, even amidst the social desperation of our time, is still a tall task. Sketchy Lines new single "Not Claiming Anything" is giving you permission to feel afraid of connection even if it's the one thing you're longing for. Listen to "Not Claiming Anything" wherever you stream!

“My Dead End Self” begins with technological reminiscence. The stillness around me is filled with the recognizable yet abrasive sound of a skipping CD. I am briefly teleported back to my childhood, recalling the countless hours spent playing the same albums on a purple boombox until they too developed that eerie but familiar skip. However, as the song continues, I am jerked from my reverie and tactfully reminded that, for all intents and purposes, CDs are extinct. We live in an age where music is produced, consumed and promoted on the internet, and the band Dirty Nice couldn't be any more aware of this phenomenon.

If the Talking Heads were a product of the late 2010s as opposed to the mid-1970s, they would probably sound just like Dirty Nice.With a sound that pays homage to previous new wave artists through skilled sampling and synthesizing, “My Dead End Self” is hauntingly existential, yet ironically emotive—"All I need in these dead-end times is a place to live my dead-end life." The track and its accompanying music video pulse with an impending sense of doom and engage in a one-way conversation with what seems to be the end of the world. While the track itself is only three and a half minutes, its message is profound and long-lasting, giving you something to think about long after the sound fades into the atmosphere.

On her stunning new EP, Drop 6, Little Simz demonstrates that confinement can be a conduit to creativity. While stuck inside over the last couple of months, she self-produced the collection and released it through her own independent label, Age 101. The first song, though humbly named “might bang, might not,” clearly bangs. Big bass booms and jazzy snares make up the track’s relatively simple but sonically huge production, creating the perfect smoky floor for Simz’s bars to float on top of. Simz stacks witty brag upon witty brag here (my favorite is that she not only “crashed the party,” she “is the party”), but at the end of the day, show is always going to be more important than tell. What she shows is that she’s (still) ready to claim her place in the GOAT conversation. She claims she “ain’t slept good in days,” but with flows that bob like a butterfly, subtle and quick delivery, and a confident sense of humor, maybe she’ll be able to rest more easily if more of us finally acknowledge that she’s one of the most talented rappers alive.