Dua Saleh’s "umbrellar" only gives us a few seconds before the storm sweeps us away. Once the first verse pours in, the energy of the arpeggiating synth is frantic, making our whole body vibrate with anticipation. And soon it’s here—when the beat comes in, the song morphs into a hurricane with a full force gale. That’s the point, in a way, that dizzying, hectic, heart-pounding feeling that is hard-core attraction. “Last pint from that last night / I don't know if that was real,” their vocals call out echoey over a pounding beat and a world of synths. It’s a party, and we’re melting into the intoxication. Suddenly the spell breaks, a moment of quiet, twisted vocals give us long enough to gasp for breath before diving headfirst back into the fantasy. “I swear I'm superstitious / 'Bout her sex appeal,” says Saleh even as they lose themselves again in the delirium.

When Phoebe Bridgers released “Kyoto” she told us the track is about imposter syndrome or the feeling that she’s living someone else’s life. Instead of taking the speed train or appreciating her visit to a temple during her first visit to Japan with her bandmates, she instead finds herself spending time at 7-11 and having an unpleasant, expensive conversation with someone from her past whom she can’t seem to shake. In classic Bridgers fashion, the lyrics of “Kyoto” document complex emotions like ennui, resentment, and anger through commonplace images. In one of the most memorable lines of the song, she “drives out to the suburbs to park at the Goodwill and stare at the chemtrails with [her] little brother,” and the drabness of the concrete makes her love for her sibling all the sweeter. And for a song about psychological dissociation, the instrumentation is remarkably upbeat and even triumphant, making the song all the more versatile: listen to the lyrics if you need to be in your feelings, or focus on the bright trumpet solo if you need to get pumped for your day.

Quiet power and gentle ferocity—these are the reigning forces in the soundscape of "QADIR," the first release off of Nick Hakim’s upcoming LP, Will This Make Me Good. In addition to being the first release, "QADIR" was also the first song that Hakim wrote for the record. It’s an homage to his late friend who passed away in 2018 and for whom the track is named. Hakim conjures a sacred spirituality on this track by retaining a delicate balance between a heavy bass over a lightly driving beat, replete with acoustic percussion, and a haunting flute weaving in and out of a wide keyboard sound that holds down rich harmonies. Above all this, in a realm all its own, Hakim’s echoing vocals gently whisper truths in the manner of a prophet: “There seems to be a complexity to being kind / to your space to your temple / to your neighbors / who’ve seen the changes / We all feel change / Some of us wear masks / To hide the pain.” He is calling upon us to choose kindness and community. Surrounded by haunting background vocals on the chorus, Hakim draws us into an ethereal world that finally comes together in a mess of phantasmic voices, calling us from every side before fading slowly out into nothingness.

Paging everyone in pop music: if you don’t know singer/songwriter and escapist Syd Silvair yet, you will feel her enchantment soon. As a skilled tarot reader by day, Silvair is endlessly inspired by the deck. On her latest single, “The Moth,” she conjures up a world of swirling disco and art-pop while reflecting on the aspects of The Magician tarot. “I find that my own feminine nature tends to attract people who are looking to take advantage of it,” mentions Silvair, “I’ve connected deeply with The Magician tarot card in an effort to take the power back, to nurture on my own terms.” And keep her power she will, as “The Moth” is Silvair’s own omen of empowerment to remind us that for every bit of tenderness there is an equally potent fierceness. Inspired by the feminine mysticism of Stevie Nicks, her songwriting is unsparing, bold and centered. Silvair’s velvety voice calls out messages of the rich visuals that inspire her, shimmering atop lush and groovy rhythms. Her melodies are undeniably catchy, like a golden spell. Syd Silvair invites you to step into her sphere as her upcoming tarot-inspired EP Reverie makes its way into our realm and emboldens our inner realities with the spirit of her music.

Genevieve Stokes’s newest single “Running Away” is a dreamy rumination on the intensity of new love. The singer-songwriter’s dynamic crooning vocals cut through the simple production of piano and sparse harmonies as she sings, “couldn’t see you coming / I was always running away / you hit me out of nowhere / will you stay?” Stokes explores the uncertainty of young love and how terrifying admitting your feelings can be. Drawing from her longtime inspiration Regina Spektor, the 18-year-old from Portland, Maine perfectly expresses the emotional turmoil of adolescence without falling into melodrama. She details the continuous loss of innocence as we grow older with precision, “And I'm nothin' but the things that I tell myself / Lie and think I'm / special just like everybody else / But somethin' in the water has been tempting me.” “Running Away” is the newest single off of Stokes’s upcoming debut EP out this summer.

Andrew Bird has been a leading voice in the folk/bluegrass realm for over two decades. Like the best songwriters of the genre, he has a compelling ability to stir the mind and heart towards a feeling while exhibiting strong mastery of an instrument (the violin in his case). "Capital Crimes," albeit on-the-nose, is a closer view of capital punishment and the plunge of human compassion. His latest full-length album, My Finest Work Yet, is heralded as one of his best records (staying true to the title) in part because of his tasteful command of political commentary and soft folk musicianship. His latest single,"Capital Crimes," is a faithful echo of My Finest Work Yet. The track passionately incriminates a broken system that has no "sense of shame" in its method of determining who lives and who dies. This 6 minute, 30-second song raises a heavy hand in aggressive musicality, breaking from lyricism altogether around minute 4. The exaggerated pizzicato for the last 2 minutes of this track makes it an unmistakable Andrew Bird listen. Check out "Capital Crimes" wherever you stream.