"Sword," IAN SWEET's newest release, doesn’t waste any time diving into a groovy, feel-good tune full of easy power. Everything about this song is refreshing, like diving into a pool on a sweltering summer day. Or waking up to the power you have within you, throwing on your sunglasses and taking on the world. That’s what IAN SWEET is doing here, and we’re along for the ride. Slightly grungy guitar and honey-dipped vocal samples with a straight-ahead rock-n-roll groove on an electronic drum set create a sound at once nostalgic and new. “My body is a sword, it gets sharper when it gets ignored,” croons frontwoman Jillian Medford in a voice that recalls both Adrianne Lenker and Feist. The LA native has created a vibe so perfect that it makes us all want to join her wherever she’s going.

This song makes me happy and sad at the same time. I love how immediately it changes my mood when it comes on. Honestly, the best way to describe the feeling it gives me is thankful. — Phoebe Bridgers

Phoebe Bridgers’ sophomore solo album Punisher makes us feel sleepy, focused, and alive. It was released on June 19.

With “My People,” R&B singer-songwriter Amber Mark delivers a song of revolution at its simplest form. Originally a song by Eddie Kendricks released in 1972, the track originally presented a more complex structure, in that it had more than one verse. Following laid back drums and hazy keys, Mark recites, “My people, hold on” as if praying to the heavens. From the marching, looped instrumental to the repetitive nature of her lyrics, the track, which is part of a series of covers titled Covered-19, begins to imitate that of the cries and chants of protesters around the world. Not only does the track sonically seem to take inspiration from those marching, but ideologically as well. As Mark calls for acts of love and unity, she is reminding the world of the determination and tenacity and fervor of her people. In a post, Mark explained the track as “all the people speaking out on behalf of purely loving one another no matter the minuscule .1% differences in our DNA.” All of this comes to a head as the once tranquil beat evolves into a bouncy, trap-inspired instrumental. Still, Mark continues to meditate, “Hold on to love, just show me love / Hold on to love, hold on to love / Hold on to love, we've had enough.” All of the revenue made from “My People” will go to organizations dedicated to developing black agricultural land ownership.

London-based rock band Sports Team are best known for their unwavering assessment of British society, but their lyrical insights apply far and wide. “Here’s the Thing” is a cathartic explosion of disillusionment, complete with wailing horns and guitars. It tackles the competitive mindset of capitalism (“If you’re in bed then someone else is catching worms”) and unrealistic fad dieting (“If you just change the way you eat you’ll never die.”) Listening to it briefly punctures the low hum of existential stress that has settled in my brain. These are, as I hate to remind you, unprecedented times, and the dissonance between the more mundane aspects of life and the overarching issues we are facing can be dramatic. In a moment of quarantined panic sometime last week, I found myself glued to the music video for this song, in which the band performs in a school gymnasium for an audience of young kids. In this context, the bitterness borders on comic as Alex Rice sings to their sullen faces, “It’s all just lies!” But the concerns he articulates are real and seem to pulsate beneath our everyday motions. “The world will be ok if we stop taking flights,” he mocks, knowing it will take so much more. The song doesn’t offer solutions, but hearing these lies unmasked is freeing in its own way. At the very least, it’s nice to know that this band doesn’t believe them either. Listen to “Here’s the Thing” on Sports Team’s debut album, Deep Down Happy. Photo by Louisa Zimmer.

Not exactly a deep cut The Replacements, and for good reason. “The ones, love us least are the ones we’ll die to please." I mean c’mon. — Phoebe Bridgers

Phoebe Bridgers second solo album Punisher is about camaraderie, delusions, and dreams. It’s also about jokes and ghosts and the sky.

Finding comfort in your own skin is a kind of peace that is hard to describe. Toro y Moi’s cover of fellow Afro-Filipino Joe Bataan’s 60s groove “Ordinary Guy” seems to fully embody that acceptance of the self. Twin jazz duo The Mattson 2 help to bring the live-band feel that pays homage to the original sound. Stacked vocal harmonies bring a fullness to the track and emphasize the short and sweet message that being who you are is always enough. The crooning of, “I don't drive a beautiful car / I don't own an elegant home / I don't have thousands to spend / Or a seaside cottage for the weekend” serves as a palpable reminder that material things don't bring happiness. A modern take on the classic has allowed for a whole new audience and generation to discover Latin soul.

SG Goodman’s new single “Old Time Feeling” is a roots-tinged indie rock ode to her homeland: the South. Goodman says she chose to record her upcoming album (of the same name) at Jim James’s La La Land Studios in Louisville, KY because it possessed three of her favorite things, “a creek, a big porch, and a kitchen,” probably the second most Southern thing I’ve ever heard—right below Beyoncé’s “I got hot sauce in my bag.” The guitar effects on this track are totally stellar and bear the clear watermark of Jim James’s sound circa My Morning Jacket: thick like Kentucky air, tones melting together like Blue Bell ice cream on a cake cone—and just as delicious. In the chorus, Goodman sets forth the track’s important central message: despite stereotypes, the South is “not living in that old time feeling” anymore; instead, it is on the crux of change, and change always comes out of healing old wounds. As André 3000 famously said at the 1995 Source Awards, “the South got something to say.” Twenty-five years later, SG Goodman is one of a diverse cast of talented independent artists continuing to prove him right.

“Stay, stay / It’s what I came to say / But I need a little time / Made, made / Swear we were made the same / I need to show you how I’m feeling.” Future Generations' latest single is the quintessential plea of modern romance, neatly boxing up the perplexing challenge of millennial love: how easy it is to express emotion through carefully penned messages from behind glowing screens at the rosy bud of a relationship before it blossoms, and we struggle to tangibly convey who we are, what we want, and how we’re feeling. 

The band pulls out some of the same shimmering stops recognizable from their 2018 album Landscape, but employ some new tricks on their third-ever independent release. Plunging synth bass and driving kick drum are sweetly sewn together by a soaring guitar riff, but the song’s hallmark feature is the band’s newfound lo-fi rock edge; this is what wraps the song in a similar haze as a Julian Casablancas croon (The Strokes) while maintaining the melodic sensibilities of beloved indie-pop acts like Smallpools, COIN, or Yoke Lore. The song is filled with delicate touches, like the clicking of a newly flipped cassette tape, that inspire self-reflection and creative energy. 

The same day I first heard “Stay,” I immediately thought the track would have been at home on the 500 Days of Summer soundtrack, and I ran to my notebook to jot down the rom-com monologue-style poem it inspired in my head:

i know what it is like to 

love and lose, because i have loved 

myself, lost myself, and learned this love 

all over again—atom by atom. the highs 

burn-in aching august red but the fall wreaks 

the loudest silence; spinning wild symphonies 

from time’s uncompromising grip. 

can’t you give me a chance to show you 

these constellations, penned here on my palms? 

maybe you could stay, and save us both 

the effort of learning

—once more

the art of letting go

Photo: Britnee Meiser