Eastern Souvenirs is spearheaded by singer-songwriter and producer Brian Fisher, who recently brought the project from the West Coast to the East. While their hazy summer sound is heavily nostalgic, inspired largely by the garage and surf rock of the 1960s, “No One Else” is a song about being somewhere new. A lo-fi surf rock love song for the ages, “No One Else” was the first song Fisher wrote after his move from Seattle to Boston last year. The song delves into the flurry of feelings that come with being in a new place, both physically and emotionally, and explores how distant the past can seem when suddenly a new future emerges on the horizon. Remarkably easy listening, Eastern Souvenirs would make a great soundtrack for your next day trip to the beach—windows down, sun shining, waves crashing, and those slow, sweet guitar riffs accompanied by Fisher’s soothing vocals. Eastern Souvenirs has set a virtual record release for their upcoming album Only for a Time set to stream on August 28.

Pressing into a dual-toned reflection of solitude, Haley Blais croons over effervescent sun-showers of synth on her new single "On a Weekend." With her drifting, alluring sound, Blais gives her voice to the delicate, yet matter-of-fact sentiment of “holding [her] own hand on a weekend." While the track’s origins were born out of the hearth of social anxiety, it has taken on a new meaning as we are asked to only clasp the hands attached to our own bodies. While isolation has its disadvantages, it also acts as a breeding ground to take yourself to the movies, to hold your own hand, and to nourish your own soul. Photo by Lindsay Elliott

Joya Mooi can’t stop creating. Fresh off her album The Ease of Others released last September, Mooi delivers her second single of the year, "Bitter Parts." A beautiful new offering, a song that moves with urgency. Moments of insight and stunning lyricism dot the path to and from the chorus. One that shows Mooi reckoning with herself, facing the truths she might have been avoiding before. The verses spotlight moments where that reckoning proves necessary. Articulated more explicitly in the video, this self-reflection becomes an endless pursuit—looking in the mirror, finding strength in her vulnerability. The production is fantastic. A deep synth-bass provides a growling foundation, while the drums give it a harsh, relentless feel. It’s all tied together by Mooi’s vocals—with a calming warmth, she makes this tough introspection feel so easy. The bridge is a standout moment, the swirling synths and gentle harmonies working perfectly together to prove Mooi’s mastery. Infinitely repeatable, this dark but dreamy tune just feels good.

Our minds have the ability to run rampant, to think about hundreds of different things in the amount of time it takes to open a bottle of water, take a sip, and put the cap back on. St. South encapsulates this sensation in her song “RED.” Starting with what sounds like someone taking a drink of water, the songwriter, singer, and producer delves into her inner monologue. Her airy vocals accompany synths that sound like the musical equivalent of skipping rocks on a river. This is in direct juxtaposition to sharp percussion and lyrics that detail the reasons she no longer wants to be with her partner. While at times it sounds like St. South could be singing directly to this person, upon closer inspection it sounds as though “RED” is a reminder to herself that she deserves better. The repetition of the line, “I’ve got things to do / Things to do today,” affirms that. Whether she uses it as a mantra for self-discipline or as a casual reminder to push through the hurt she may be feeling, it leaves the listener to reflect on their own priorities. As someone whose brain is always racing at a hundred miles a minute, I found comfort in St. South’s ability to conceptualize the feeling that accompanies knowing that your relationship is unhealthy and your priorities are not aligned. Photo by Liam Gillie

Bath House

I found a bath house nested on the peak of a mountains back
and all that was asked:
to untie my corset of abandonment 
and surrender it to the eye

Crosslegged I sat, watching seasoned hands
swim above the sponge towards the rusted steel wool
For this was no ordinary forgiveness
and I was of no simple repair

I begged instead,
can she pick the guilt from beneath my nails 
and trim the unkempt shame hiding my eyes

Rather,
she scrubbed thy skin of
romantic sin until
my bodies hue blushed rouge

Then looked away
as my vertebrae's sang
the sweet confessional tune

Warmth spilled from shoulder 
to toe like children's red striped pajamas
and for a sweet instant, I felt
I glittered in the sun

On “Overkill," Holly Humberstone is preparing to do something brave. Maybe you’ve had to be brave before too, so you’re probably familiar with how it works. Once you realize you can do it—the brave thing—time starts moving more quickly. You can’t backpedal; you’ll do the thing, or you won’t. For a while, each thought feels like a drop in a bucket that will eventually overflow.

That realization is exactly where we find Humberstone at the beginning of the song. She’s almost ready to spill big, unwieldy feelings to her partner, and she is afraid they will come across as too much—as overkill. But throughout the track, she shows us that she has a lot of things going for her. Like some of her indie-pop elders—Tegan & Sara, Empress Of, Robyn—Humberstone beautifully harnesses the power of stark simplicity in her lyrics. “You don’t have to say it back / I just want to know where your head’s at,” she tells herself in a frosty alto, and you can feel a waterfall of subtext fill every crevice. As the song goes on, the lyrical tone shifts gradually from restrained deliberation to decisive declaration, and the music follows. The musical climax—an immaculate syncopated drum hit at 2:20—is the sound of that final drop in the bucket; and the electronic swirl of twinkling stars that emerges in the track’s final minute is what tells us—and Humberstone—that tonight's the night.