Our third Quadio pick of the week is Dad Bod. The group got their start just last year at the University of Minnesota and has quickly become one of the most promising indie rock bands out of the Twin Cities. Fronted by singer-songwriter and guitarist Callie Marino, the band also includes Alex Gray on drums, Noah Topliff and Wilson Zellar on guitar and Michael McGough on bass. Written from the perspective of a “ghost looking for a flesh experience,” their latest single “Spirits” is one that will bring you to your knees. As good things often do, it all starts with a snare and kick-drum, before the first electric guitar is counted in, dreamy and echoing, and then the second, crisp and sunny. Marino’s voice soon sails sweetly over the taut instrumental track that has been laid out. Marino’s songwriting is stellar, and in “Spirits” she plays to the deep-seated loneliness we feel when we find ourselves emotionally isolated while longing for intimacy. With notes of Lucy Dacus, Soccer Mommy and Great Grandpa, and recurring riffs reminiscent of Mazzy Star, it would be unfair to compare Dad Bod to just one of these artists. Dad Bod is a band with their own sound and one to watch. We are stoked to be partnering with Quadio to bring you a taste of their music. Keep an eye out for Dad Bod’s forthcoming first EP set for release this summer, and until then, catch them doing livestream shows on the ‘gram.

The Canadian indie rock legend Mac DeMarco recently released "All of Our Yesterdays"—the second single from his upcoming album, Here Comes the Cowboy. Following the release of "Nobody," the album’s first single, it's clear that DeMarco will be touching on some of his classic somber themes of loss, aging, and moving on.

"All of our Yesterdays" is reminiscent of his last album, This Old Dog. In many ways, it is also very representative of what makes Mac DeMarco, Mac DeMarco. The slow build is something he’s always been known for, using a steady beat and simple chords to create a chill vibe that attracts the listener. He's the master of writing sad songs that aren't outright melancholy. With the layering of several harmonic elements floating beneath his lax vocals, he succeeds in pushing the lyrics to the forefront of his listener's mind as he draws out emotions of longing and loss.

The acoustic guitar and lyrical brevity is not only beautiful but also uplifting within the sad context of the song. Though he’s singing of his loss of yesterdays, a line that was inspired by Macbeth and an old episode of Star Trek, he urges that it does not mean it's over. Throughout the chorus, you can hear him pointing this out “And that don't mean your dream is over / And that don't make your heart beat slower/ Such a shame to complain” Even with his generally bleak tone, he so often alludes to a silver lining. DeMarco isn't afraid to acknowledge that there’s a brighter side to it all. This goofball performer is full of wisdom in sometimes surprising ways, and we can’t wait to see what’s to come on Here Comes the Cowboy.

Originally only available as a 7-inch vinyl at concerts, “Little Trouble” was released digitally as a gift to fans last month—and a gift it certainly was. Phoebe Bridgers and Conor Oberst, the sad-indie rock duo behind Better Oblivion Community Center, sing some of their best, and definitely most upbeat, harmonies yet. The thrashing drums and throbbing guitars set the tone for the song’s carefree attitude; immediately, no matter where you are, you can’t help but start bopping to the beat. As always, the compellingly dark lyrics are delivered with matter-of-fact charm, reminiscent of Bob Dylan with a full band. “Well, tell me, baby, what’s your biggest conceit / Is it that you did it, or you did it with me?” Complete with a tiny, grungy guitar solo, “Little Trouble” is a fun and fitting addition to the band’s debut album, which they released in January.

One of the first words that come to mind when listening to The Head and the Heart’s new single, "Honeybee" is grounding. The abundant ups and downs of the track will make your heart take flight and land back on the floor like a feather. "Honeybee" was released ahead of the anticipated fourth album from the 6-piece Seattle band, Living Mirage. The beat, vocal melody, and lyrics work together to create the ideal love song about the person you want to build your whole world with. Vocalists Jonathan Russell, Josiah Johnson, and Charity Thielen's collective timbres pair seamlessly with Kenny Hensley’s piano, Tyler Williams’ percussion, and Chris Zasche’s bass—reuniting nearly 10 years of work together as a band in a perfectly sweet folk track. Their album Living Mirage comes out on 5/17.

“As Loving Should” is an especially circular song with its sparse drum beat, ever-present acoustic guitar strumming, and simple song structure, ending up right back where it started. Singer Liz Drummond’s tired vocal delivery uses the song’s circuity to examine the perils of an unhealthy relationship with alcohol. “I didn’t feel very well / I still don’t feel very well,” sings Drummond of the endless cycle, the bottomless pit. Much of the music Little May has released in the lead up to their forthcoming album deals with feeling stuck— the previous single “Apples” addressed the difficulties of creative fulfillment in the face of relentless financial pressures—and that may be the nature of finding success as an independent band. A band with small beginnings, three high school friends making music together achieved a pleasant level of exposure with their debut—an album produced by The National’s Aaron Dessner, support from Australia’s Triple J, appearances at large festivals and a supporting date with Mumford & Sons. But 2017 saw the departure of original member Annie Hamilton, and there are obvious creative pressures to follow up on the success of their debut. With “As Loving Should,” the third single from Blame My Body, due out May 3, Little May is looking forward and reclaiming control—“I chose the bottle over you too many times / No more empty promises, this body is mine.”

"Crow" by Bear's Den is a nostalgic elegy remembering the loss of a father figure. Full of bittersweet gratitude, the harmonic aspects of the track are a beautiful complement to the melody and lyrics sung by Andrew Davie with such pure emotion. He laments, "a stranger who I learned to love / a friend when really no one was / my Daedalus, my wings to fly / why'd you leave me behind?" This deeply personal song from Bear's Den is a leading track off their most recent album So that you might hear me.