Sometimes music is glowing proof that the universe strings the future to our present in ways we won’t learn for years to come—or, sometimes, for more than a decade. Such is the case for me with filous and The Kooks’ sun-soaked summer collaboration, “Hey Love.” Thirteen summers ago, in 2007, you could find me sunbathing in the often underestimated, blistering Midwestern heat on the back patio of my parents’ house. I snapped a CD into my red Sony Walkman, lamenting about whatever then-world-shattering-now-trivial heartbreak I was going through—and my song of choice? One that would echo the feeling reeling in my melancholy teenage heart: “Naïve” by The Kooks, who remain one of my favorite bands to this day. Fast forward to 2015, add in a few more heartbreaks and zoom out, and you would see an aerial view of myself and my now-fiancé on a sweltering July day, sipping iced coffees on our first date; it was a learning of fate, the feeling of meeting someone you feel you already know—a coming home. I say my favorite band is The Kooks and my fiancé, brightly smiling, says “no way, mine too!” Jump once again to 2018, and I am watching filous open for Mat Kearney; entranced by his uniquely smooth and electronic sonic palette. On the train ride home, I save all of his recent collaborations to my Spotify library. Less than a year later, my fiancé and I would finally see The Kooks together in concert. At the fusion of all of these memories is the happily shimmering made-for-summer anthem “Hey Love.” I was working on wedding planning the day I saw filous and The Kooks had collaborated and released this track, and I couldn’t play it fast enough. filous seamlessly supplements The Kooks’ trademark acoustic rock-pop strumming with gentle violin swells, slight tinges of distortion, and electronic clapping percussion. It was as if The Kooks’ frontman Luke Pritchard was singing this string of memories back to me: “It took a lot to find you / All the circles we've ever spun / And all the records when we sing along / The moments frozen, one by one.” Now, as we prepare for our wedding this autumn, in the stressful atmosphere of a worldwide pandemic, the warmth of “Hey Love” made me realize the universe is surely stringing us somewhere beautiful that we’ve yet to think about. As the song rings out (“I know where I’m going / I no longer need to run”), I smile, ready to face it all.

"Falling Apart" by Slow Pulp is the song equivalent of a weighted blanket, providing warmth and comfort when you need it. Violins and soft vocals surround you, wrapping you up in compassion, understanding and paradoxically major harmonies. You’re not alone. You’re not the only one periodically dissociated on the couch at 4 am, worrying if depression might always be lapping at your feet like a high tide. It takes a lot to resist the comfort of familiarity when you’re feeling so vulnerable, so it’s okay to settle for wrapping up in your hoodie instead of that familiar feeling. Tender melodic whispers coax your thoughts into daylight. Learning how to be compassionate to yourself is hard, and questioning the value of perseverance in something that doesn’t feel rewarding is natural. Self-sabotage is almost a talent, so “why don’t you go back to falling apart?” The implicit answer is “Because it sucked, and I’ve worked so hard to get where I am." It’s not always a satisfying answer, but at least you’re not alone. You’ve got Slow Pulp’s sweet harmonies to keep you company, and—when you can move past having to seem alright—several loving friends too.

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.

If you’ve been to a lot of festivals, the first minute of “Echo Location” might sound familiar to you. You’re staking out the perfect spot for your favorite band of the day; you're hot, and your feet are tired. Anyway, you’re standing there, heartbroken because you’ve had to leave your second favorite band’s set fifteen minutes in, and now you can just make out the sound of them, 500 feet away, playing their best song. Meanwhile, back at the stage where your heroes will be in less than an hour, a very bored-looking person comes out and starts playing the drums. They will only ever be known to you as “Soundcheck Guy,” and it goes without saying that they are not much of a performer. Just like the drummer at the beginning of “Echo Location," they play the same simple drum beat over, and over, and over. There is nothing like the awkward, lonely, pre-anticipatory feeling of watching a soundcheck happen. 

Or so I thought until I heard the first minute of “Echo Location.” Helvetia is the now-Portland-based project of Jason Albertini. The group creates the kind of unpretentious experimental indie rock music that doesn’t seem to seek answers, and the beginning of this track from their new album This Devastating Map feels like the instrumental version of asking yourself a rhetorical question. Eventually though, the percussive inertia gives way to something stranger. Just over two minutes in, the guitar disintegrates into a series of acquiescent squeals, like a balloon very slowly losing air, or a jaded banshee ready for retirement. By this point in the track, you’ve almost certainly accepted that it’s instrumentals only, so when the vocals come in with a minute remaining, that is pretty disorienting too. Albertini’s vocal intonation has the same satisfying and self-aware smirk of a late 90s Isaac Brock. And as he sings cryptic, surprising things like, “This ambulance has echo location,” your mind turns again to "Soundcheck Guy." Maybe he's a performer after all; maybe there is beauty in the wait itself.

Nashville-based artist sweater boy tells the relatable tale of combating loneliness and not allowing yourself to fall into the cycle of a comfortable, yet toxic relationship on his latest release "i think i lost a friend." He sings lyrics that cut straight to the truth, “don’t know who I am / or how to let go / I think I should have said / I’d rather be dead than be alone. “i think i lost a friend” comes off of sweater boy’s (aka David Moran’s) debut EP, aptly titled i’d rather be dead than be alone. Co-produced by Moran and collaborator DËAN, this track is filled out by layered guitars and purposeful samples that create an indie-pop sound reminiscent of fellow Nashville-based band, COIN. Moran perfectly captures the vibe of this song when he says, “The lyrics, specifically, feel anthemic to me, switching from introspection to outrospection every verse and chorus. It plays well with the nostalgic, teenage, coming-of-age sunset movie scene that I constantly find myself chasing with every song.”

Bedroom soul artist cehryl sings on the innocent side of unrequited love on “Moon Eyes,” channeling the effortless sincerity of jazz standards of yore. “It’s about being abandoned, left to wonder,” she explains, “specifically, to wonder with a childlike optimistic naivety.” “Darling, you don't have to be so kind / To travel down all for my surprise / Darling, I'm covering my eyes / So I don't see you've gone a long, long, long time" she sings, melancholy longing lurking under her cheerful scatting. Those first few times you notice someone pulling away, it’s easier to tune out, feigning innocence to hold onto the slim chance of hope that they may return. cehryl returned to her native Hong Kong after her tours with Jeremy Zucker and Cavetown were put on indefinite hold due to Covid-19. Despite her worry that her roots in the music and arts community there weren’t as strong, she collaborated with Jonny Ho to craft a quirky video with snapshots of Hong Kong amidst the pandemic’s second wave.

—

you’ll pluck the glasses from my face 

to polish them without asking

we’ll put our own drinks down and wordlessly

pick up each others’ to try

i often substitute candy 

for meals and these days, i find myself 

choosing gummy bears more and more 

when we kissed goodbye you said,

“i’ll see you around”

“maybe”

“hopefully”

i’ve slept diagonally ever since.

In anticipation of Dent May's forthcoming record Late Checkout due out 8/21 via Carpark Records, the Los Angeles based pop master released his second single from the album, "Easier Said Than Done." Very much in Dent May fashion, he has constructed another groovy tune with an unforgettable melody, one you can't help but bop along to. Dent is joined by Andres Renteria (Weyes Blood) on percussion and Joachim Polack (Pearl & The Oysters) on keys. The music draws on Latin influences while Dent croons a simplistic tale of finding love after a long time coming. "It's easier said than done to fall in love / but finally it's happening to me." As the song comes to an end we recommend getting swept away in Dent May's funkadelic synth-pop breakdown. Keep your eyes peeled for more coming from Dent later this month!

“Sorry,” the latest single from beabadoobee’s forthcoming album Fake It Flowers, is a 90s inspired ballad featuring gorgeous string arrangements. At its core, the song is about what it means to confess to one’s wrongdoings in a relationship, and wondering how those mistakes will come to affect both parties involved. “...I’m doing alright and guess I’ve been feeling fine / But it hurts me / That you could be the one that deserves this / Even more,” the British-Filipino artist also known as Bea Kristi states earnestly, backed by an electric guitar. Halfway through the song, there is a sonic explosion, and the track takes on a rockier, gut-punching feel—a large departure from its simple, string adorned beginning. To start the second half of the song, she sings “I never want to think twice / With what could have been your life / And I’m sorry / I’m sorry.” An earnest, heartfelt apology, she acknowledges that she too has experienced bleak periods similar to the ones that the person she is addressing is currently living through: “...You stayed in the same dark place that I adore / But you stayed for more / I guess that’s what happens to the best of us.” Overall, “Sorry” is an exceptionally strong single that is bound to leave listeners asking the tough questions about themselves and the behaviors they have exhibited in relationships. Keep an eye out for Fake It Flowers, which is due to be released later this year, and listen to “Sorry” wherever you stream.