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.

“Someone New” is Helena Deland’s commentary on the rhythm of the self and the infringing desire to find oneself reflected in the eyes of others. The slow-rising track stands as the title track of her first LP, which was recorded over the lapse of two years and can be expected in full come October.

There is a sort of elemental component to lending oneself to another person; to be seen in their eyes and to be rid of all control of the presentation of the self is an experience that carries its own celestial weight. In lending the image of the self to the hands of someone outside of the self, there is the opportunity for transformation, but not a solitudinous change; a reflection which absorbs an image of a person and transfigures it accordingly, in turn giving a lover a new image of themself.

In “Someone New” Helena Deland inspects the tendency that many have to seek out validation in the hearth of another. The fullness of her voice weaves through oscillating paces:

“If things go my way

I'll stay in this room

Where again I want to lay

Kissing someone new

Who tells me

Something pretty

So that I too

Can feel like someone new.”

In “AUATC (Ate Up All Their Cake),” Bon Iver’s crew is rolling deep: the voices of Bruce Springstein, Jenny Lewis, Jenn Wasner (Wye Oak), and Elsa Jensen meld together with Justin Vernon’s helium-ed vocals into a buzzing confection of a track. A commentary on capitalism, its lyric “shed a little light” also winks at James Taylor’s 1991 civil rights song.

At 2:22, "AUATC: is likely just a snack—following Bon Iver’s release of "PDLIF" in April, speculation hints at the possibility of a forthcoming 5th album of acronym-based titles.

Available via Jagjaguwar, the track was released with an accompanying statement including its full cast of credits and a call for listeners to support five organizations “working tirelessly to foster a world that celebrates our humanity on a local, national, and global level.” Also, be sure to watch the music video featuring exuberant movement and dance from Randall Riley.

Emulating a Sylvan Esso style vocalization on this track, Fake Dad serves up a summer's end song with their latest single "Summer Hill." Dreamy, ethereal guitar ushers along the psychedelic and surrealist lyricism of this easy-going, vibey tune. "Summer Hill" is about living in the moment. It's an observational tune about the quick passage of time. 

The musicality, similar to the track's themes, is taking its time. It's gentle, plodding and intentionally placed. Andrea de Varona's vocals here sound exceptionally striking. In an effort to live in a headspace that appreciates daily beauty instead of wishing the day away, "Summer Hill" is a great reminder to stop and smell the roses (through your mask, of course).

Check out this new single from Fake Dad and listen to the rest of their tunes wherever you stream!

“thank u love u”— that’s all boylife, aka LA artist Ryan Yoo, wrote when he released his newest single. 

“boston” has a nostalgic kind of texture, like the intimate grit of an old mixtape. It gives body to that stickiness we’ve all experienced from a song when it transports us back to a very specific time and place—a person, a scent, a state of emotion, a certain cast of streetlight. I’ve lived in Boston, but the magic of this song is that “Boston” can represent any place where you’ve dreamed in or dreamt of. With soft organ and reflective gospel-like call and response, it offers a reminder that the relationships and experiences we have in these places shape us for better or worse. For that, we can appreciate them, grow, and also let go with a simple “thank u love u.”

Evolution is a natural part of being a musician, and tracking the evolution of an act from their first release through the rest of their career is one of the most rewarding aspects of following an artist. Some artists hop between genre and sounds as they see fit, incorporating new elements as a means to progress their sound or diversify their fanbase; others opt to take their initial approach and refine it, working within their existing soundscape to find new angles and methods with which to improve their art. When it comes to British dream-pop duo Jadu Heart, it seems that they have opted for the latter. “Burning Hour"—the sixth single from the duo’s forthcoming sophomore effort Hyper Romance, out September 25—traffics in the same ethereal vocals and jangly guitars as a majority of tracks from their debut album, Melt Away. However, there are clear signs of artistic development on display throughout the track; the songwriting is more direct, there’s less hesitation to be loud to get a thematic point across, and the duo’s voices seem more complementary to one another than ever before. The end result is one of the most addictive singles yet from the duo and one that will keep expectations high ahead of the album’s release next month.

“No Risk," the recent single from Cults, is a tribute to brave beginnings, and a testament to the power of dynamic manipulations. Through their expert instrumental arrangement, the band is able to communicate three unique interpretations of the same set of lyrics and take the listener on a complete journey. The first time through the chorus, the vocal is accompanied only by a piano. When the singer opens with the line “no risk, no believing or leading,” there is a hint of doubt; like she’s not yet fully convinced of the sentiment, and needs to say it out loud in order to believe. The second time through a driving drum beat bursts in, and it feels like the journey has officially begun; risks have been taken and there’s no going back now. The final iteration mirrors the first, just vocal and piano. It feels like the protagonist is taking a moment to glance backward, both reflecting on how far they’ve come and recognizing the doubts that still persist.

To close out the song the drums return in all their inspirational fervor, and the singer delivers repetitions of the title, “no risk.” Here, the song acknowledges that stepping into the unknown will always be frightening, but reminds us that such is the cost of new experiences which often prove to be worth the risk.