girl in red's new single "rue" is a haunting, emotional track, obviously inspired by the HBO show Euphoria both sonically and lyrically. From the start, the pounding drums and reverb-drenched instrumentals recall the dark nights and neon dreamscapes depicted in the series. The lyrics describe a relationship in which her mental health issues have made things hard on her partner, taking a toll on the relationship—similar to the dynamic between Rue and Jules shown in Euphoria. She describes crippling depression in the lines, "I hate the way my brain is wired / Can't trust my mind, it's such a liar / Believe me when I say / I can't carry the weight." Despite her struggles, though, it becomes obvious throughout the song that she wants desperately to save the relationship, repeating "I will make it work" in the bridge like a mantra, almost as if her saying it enough times will make it come true. "rue" is an emotionally impactful, atmospheric track with a booming, catchy chorus that will not be leaving your mind anytime soon. Listen to "rue" wherever you stream. Photo by Isak Jenssen.

Jordana’s debut EP, Something To Say, was released on Bandcamp on July 31, and “Forgetter” acts as its sixth and final statement. In this ruminative track, it feels like the laws of relativity have transcended physics and come to govern emotions as well. When your car starts moving forward and you aren’t expecting it, you might think for a moment that the entire world is moving backwards. “Forgetter” captures Jordana processing her feelings after she’s been disoriented by the emotional law of relativity: when someone else is acting distant, but you think you’re the one who is moving farther away. It’s a disorienting experience at first, like there’s something you’re forgetting. But then your mind snaps into focus and you realize you’ve been standing still the whole time. 

The musical elements of the song anchor the overall mood in a space of self-reflection. Jordana’s conversational, almost stream-of-consciousness vocal delivery aptly conveys her attempted calm as it gives way to slight desperation. And while the lyrics are written in first and second person, the moody Death Cab-style bass and guitar seem to signal that there is only one side to this conversation. We are witnessing a person swimming in her own head, rehearsing her side of an important conversation. In the chorus, Jordana sings “I just want to feel better; I want all of these thoughts just to mellow out.” But she knows it’s just a matter of time before she comes down from this anxious moment. Sometimes time is the best antidote when space eludes you.

i wanted you

in the yolk dripping down my fingers after biting into my toast and

in shades of faded sunburns

fresh-cut orange slices on the 

morning after M train 

home

willing for a sticky summer sunrise

spent combing disheveled ginger locks 

into place.

— 

NYC-based six-piece collective MICHELLE deliver on their glowing new single, “SUNRISE,” which defines how it feels to lose something that was never really yours—sitting in the empty space left behind. “SUNRISE holds some kind of a summer air, but more so a longing for someone who could never really show up,” the group explains. “SUNRISE is as bittersweet as it is groovy.” The single, marking their first release since their 2018 debut HEATWAVE, picks up right where they left off—sticky and sultry, yet still fresh enough to cool things off as we leave summer behind.

Singer-songwriter, producer and multi-instrumentalist Zigi Porter writes dreamy lo-fi pop songs under the moniker Darcie. The Manchester, UK-based artist has carved out a distinctive sound with quirky lyricism and a boldly experimental production style. Aspects of Porter’s self-professed influences (the lush arrangements of Rex Orange County and understated vocals of Billie Eilish) can be heard at times, but Darcie is all her own. “Silence” builds on the soulful sound of Porter’s previous work and carries it to a slightly darker, more pensive place. The result remains warm and enveloping, with her voice floating over heavy, insistent percussion. “The silence we create is a violent mistake,” Porter sings, backed by ominous synths. Later, she seems to break this silence, with reverb-laden vocals urging, “Give another trust.” Through lyrics that articulate an ever-present threat of abandonment (“Teach me you’ll ditch us”), Darcie explores the vulnerability inherent in the act of trusting and weighs the merits of choosing to do so anyway.

Bright funk full of love, “Mariposa” instantly settles into a sunny groove. It’s held together by a simple swinging rhythm section, led by an adventurous bassline. Radiant Children's lead singer, Fabienne Holloway saunters through the chorus with a sense of effortless ease. As she pulls us into the verse with some added energy there’s this moment of spice, as the echoes of the words "kimono" and "photo" dance around and create just a touch of chaos. It’s a cool choice and the kind of move that proves Radiant Children isn’t afraid to do something different. And while the vibe stays true through the second chorus, that creative courage is on full display directly after. Stacked vocals settled into a chant, begging us to give ourselves the care we need, demanding everyone to “Keep that heart open, don’t forget what you deserve." It’s a powerful moment, the vocals presented in a way that feels holy yet human—simultaneously your wise guardian angel and the voice inside your head. Some bouncy chords deliver us back to the chorus, this time giving the bass even more space to shine. The outro reinforces that positive, believe-in-yourself message, and rides this sunlit track to its mellow conclusion. This is the London group’s second single of 2020, maintaining their warm jazzy energy with a kind message.

Sometimes songs are special because they are good. Sometimes songs are special because the context surrounding your first listen is significant in some way. Sometimes, but rarely, a song is special because the first listen superimposes it with such a strong feeling that the song is forever etched in your brain. For me, "Runner" by Hovvdy wholeheartedly claims brain space in that way exactly. My first listen was about 20 minutes after it came out, as one of innumerable music recs bounced back and forth between me and one of my close friends. On its own, it’s a pleasant 3 minutes and 44 seconds that suits both of our tastes. Gentle syncopated bass and sentimental almost-love lyrics catch my ears and heart first. For him, it’s probably the percussion, gentle guitar (heavy on beat two), all overlaid with vocals that melt over everything else. Subtle effects tempt you in for repeat listens, your ears determined to mine every sonic easter egg you can find. I can’t count the number of elements to admire, but ironically the most poignant piece is something that was never written in at all. It’s memories of every piece of friendship with the person who shared it with me, montaged like videos on fuzzy aged film, in a way that makes me as happy as it does sad. The past is as gone as it is good, and only the future remains. That’s the core feeling of this new Hovvdy single, and I adore it. "Runner" is nostalgia, bottled and fizzy.

Berlin-based songwriter and soul singer Donna Arendse is The Septembers. On “Night Games,” her voice floats confidently atop the slowly expanding production of Melbourne-based producer Wayfarer//. The result is a deeply affecting electro-soul track that eventually grows to a sudden and surprising catharsis. At first, there is only a lonesome piano sample, and Arendse’s layered vocals lifting from the ground around it like swirling mist. When the bass finally kicks in, it seems to circle the piano like prey, and the poetry of the first lyrics shrouds the scene with even more mysterious tension. Halfway through the song, as Arendse sings the track’s mantra over and over in her honeyed alto, the words seem hesitant to leave their home in her heart. But the feeling is too powerful to stay in there. Soon it swells into a thunderous wave of sound, booming in and out of focus. And when the wave recedes, the five words written in the sand need no further explanation. “No one wants to hurt.”

Less is more on Linden Jay’s latest track "Got Me All Wrong." Half of FARR, the talented and accomplished producer creatively turns on the charm on this track. Beautiful vocals echo words that evoke the realization of incompatibility, “I think you've got me all wrong / you don't know me at all / you like the way I make you feel / you like the way I see right through you,” still, the exclamation, “I think your soul is so beautiful” dramatically stands out for more reasons than one—as isolated vocals highlight a sentiment seemingly juxtaposed from the rest. 

Playful electronic elements accent bassy undertones and unique vocal distortions. The stylization of repeated lyrics plays nicely with the beat, adding an air of novelty akin to getting to know someone familiar all over again. It's hard to deny the way "Got Me All Wrong" pulls you in lyrically and sonically with such stunning simplicity—a true testament to Jay's production prowess.