“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.

Matt Berninger of The National and Phoebe Bridgers team up to inject sincerity into the Netflix comedy Between Two Ferns: The Movie, directed by Scott Aukerman and starring Zach Galifianakis. "It always brings me back here / Into the garden by the hand / You've always had me walking on a string," they sing, mimicking the dynamic between host Galifianakis's production crew, portrayed by Lauren Lapkus, Ryan Gaul, and Jiavani Linayao, and their borderline abusive boss. While the lyrics convey the ways a tight-knit team can help each other through their messes, Berninger stated, "It’s also just a love song between a spider and a moth.” Given free reign by Aukerman to write a song for the film, Berninger and his long-time collaborator and wife Carin Besser penned lyrics that allow Bridgers' haunting vocals to shine; Walter Martin and Matt Barrick of The Walkmenround out your new favorite country band, Phoebe and the Spiders of Bars. "Walking on a String" appears at the 42-minute-mark as Galiafanakis makes a toast to his team, one of the rare vulnerable, intimate moments on an otherwise irreverent cross-country journey to produce the next great American talk show.

Alex Siegel maintains a gentle lo-fi groove in "Wasted Time." The LA-based bedroom pop artist sings softly over meticulously crafted layers of synths. For a song about not wanting to waste time, it creeps along with immense patience—swelling only briefly near the end as he repeats "I don’t want to waste any more time." The steady bassline and hi-hat throughout keep the track grounded as everything else floats in and around. Siegel’s jazz influence creeps its way in adding complexity to the simple melody and lyrics. It’s the perfect song for a rainy day in bed or the quiet hours of the night when it feels like you’re the only person in the world—easy to listen to, but not so simple that it becomes background noise. "Wasted Love" is the most recent single off Siegel’s newest EP Up All Night, which came out on October 4.

Autumn—the romantic season of fiery, golden leaves, nipping winds and hot, steaming mugs of coffee—never lasts long enough. “December came too fast,” sings Margaux Bouchegnies over the delicately lo-fi intro to her new single, “Cave In.” The Seattle bred, Brooklyn-based 20-year-old singer-songwriter counts Joni Mitchell among her main influences. Even in its nascent stage, Margaux’s songwriting internalizes Mitchell’s touch for bluesy naturalism. About a minute in, “Cave In” dynamically shifts to crunchier instrumentation. From there, subtle scene changes abound; like stomping on an overdrive pedal, “Cave In” quickly jumps between jarring fuzziness and melodic resolution. Snail Mail and Car Seat Headrest come to mind: both artists write incredibly mature and lush arrangements that, primarily, originate from the guitar. Like them, Margaux’s patient storytelling intertwines with softly-confident vocal execution. Yet, it’s her penchant for airy, symphonic production (see: “Palm,” her other recent single) that sets Margaux apart. Combined with—and perhaps even thanks to—her deft guitar playing, her ambitious songwriting already feels fully actualized.

Following their 2016 cover of The Beach Boys’ “All I Wanna Do,” it’s clear that The Bright Light Social Hour is unafraid to tackle the untouchable icons of the ‘60s with their modern take on that era’s own psychedelia. The Beatles, to say nothing of Brian Wilson’s genius, are a cultural touchstone comparable to little else in the last century, and their songs often stand-in for the very definition of pop songs themselves. While we see new geniuses tear down those very definitions, The Beatles’ catalogue remains almost sacred to many. In “Sun King,” The Bright Light Social Hour celebrates Abbey Road’s 50th anniversary with a cover of a side-two classic, using it as a vessel for their signature groove. It could have been any Beatles song, or even any other song if not for the instantly recognizable nature of The Fab Four track. They choose not to honor the original note-for-note, nor do they claim that their song is the way it should have been. The track is right there in the source material, and their chops are evident in the performance.

“No Other Like You,” the newest single from Virginia-based artist Kate Bollinger, has a sweet melody and a sultry beat. The hazy, lo-fi jam is the definition of late-night vibes, with spacey synths, a chill, uplifting guitar and one of the grooviest basslines of the year swinging to a slow, almost psychedelic rhythm. The instrumentation is soft, warm and nostalgic; it’s the perfect backdrop for a low-key night in or a road trip under the stars. But Bollinger’s voice, evoking the same laid-back, transfixing charm as Nora Jones, is the star of the arrangement. Breezy and dynamic, her voice makes you feel like you’re floating through a lovely dream. The lyrics are about accepting impermanence, and Bollinger’s wistful croon emphasizes that. “Baby can't you see there's no other like you / When you leave I'll expect the things you'd always do.” Cozy and cool, “No Other Like You” is about to become your new favorite sad love song.

Hypnotizing listeners back into his universe yet again, Frank Ocean returns with highly hyped new single “DHL” from the artist’s first studio album release since 2016. The track dropped unannounced at the end of Ocean’s most recent blonded RADIO session, giving a taste of what is rumored to be a thirteen-track LP. Ocean teams up with electro-house producer Boys Noize on “DHL” and delivers swirling sounds and carefully casual lyrics. The song begins with his signature, stylized ambient noise—reminiscent of a more somber, slow version to the introduction of “Nikes.” He raps about a lover, things he’s bought, and attending fashion week in camping gear, “Look like I’m dressed for a hike / But I really look like I’m in Paris.” A mundane tone, almost droning, takes over the beats of the song and paints a portrait of Ocean in his day to day life—as normal as it can be. Following the announcement of “DHL” came the news of two other singles, “Cayendo” and “Dear April." Both were premiered at Ocean's new club PrEP+, where the artist played some remixed snippets. Both old and new Frank fans alike can look forward to new content being released in this era of activity.