Since their humble beginnings, psych-rock project, Crumb, has been making the music of dizzying dreams. After the warm reception of their first two EPs, they are set to release their first full-length album, Jinx. One of the first tracks ahead of the album, “Nina,” invites you into a dazed, ethereal realm that seems to be detailing a hazy brain map. “Nothing makes much sense,” sings vocalist and guitarist, Lila Ramani, as an electric piano descends into the rabbit hole. Ramani is at the helm of the band's hypnotic songwriting. As she describes the distortions of the realities we create for ourselves, cadences swirl around in reverb, anchored by a tittering drum beat. “Nina” is a mystifying track. Pulling back its layers uncovers the surface of Crumb’s smooth consciousness, dripping with kaleidoscopic color and triggered by an expanding mind.

Henry Jamison is a storyteller at heart. It may be in his blood — his father, a classical composer, and his mother, an English professor — but Jamison is a writer and artist in his own right, evidenced by his debut album The Wilds (released October 27th). Beyond writing, recording and arranging the album all on his own, Jamison has a special ability to bring each track to life. Take his song, “The Wilds”: it’s instrumentally rich without being overbearing, letting Jamison’s narrative whisk you away. “The Wilds” sounds like an old-time American love story - unassuming and familiar, but nevertheless, still surprising.

Los Angeles genre-bending artist Moses Sumney released his gorgeous and ethereal debut album Aromanticism into the world this September. Sumney has made a big impression on artists like Solange and Sufjan Stevens for good reason. His infusion of soul and folk come together on this album in a way that leaves us begging for more. A prime example of this heavenly blend is found on the third song of the album, “Plastic.” A previous version of the song can be heard on the first season of Issa Rae’s HBO series, Insecure. This new version serves as one of the more simplistic songs on the album, featuring just a fingerpicked electric guitar, a synth and Sumney’s captivating voice. The hook of the song repeats the line “my wings are made of plastic,” each time sung in a slightly different way than it was before, continuing to imbue the phrase with new meaning. This song of vulnerability, self-awareness and secret-spilling is the kind that you can leave on repeat and get lost in for hours.