I firmly believe that there is a special place in the world for upbeat breakup songs, and that place is a car radio. "Losing My Grip" by Junior Mesa is a high energy reclamation of control by acknowledging that you’re not fine, actually. The song riffs and rolls through two and a half minutes that validate your need to briefly disappear with just a car, sunshine, and your thoughts. “An escapist road trip is a totally reasonable reaction to heartbreak,” the track speaks, with equal parts serious lyrics and lighthearted production touches. Each verse is supported by steadfastly syncopated rhythm guitar, paralleling the feeling of hanging on by a thread—but still hanging in there. A whimsical flute line dances between stanzas, which conjures the aesthetic of Noah and The Whale and The Boy Least Likely To. Mesa’s voice playfully stretches syllables, crafting a vocal line that, somehow, feels a lot like a rainbow slinky. Overall, the track sparkles with wit, humor, and technical finesse. Dripping in optimism yet leaning into vulnerability and heartache, it’s a song that is sure to fit whatever headspace you’re in.

London-based Arlo Parks’ twitter bio reads “poetry baby with a little side of soft rock,” and that is truly the best descriptor of the 18-year-old singer/songwriter’s sound. Her latest single, “george,” is a perfect example of this—blending elements of jazz, R&B, and soft rock together with some masterful lyricism to create an ambient, magnetic track. Parks’ newest song was named for the famed English poet and notorious narcissist and heartbreaker, Lord George Gordon Byron, and his legacy is reflected in the poetry of Park’s lyrics and her message on reckless loving. Her story builds as she describes the mess a careless lover can leave behind and stays grounded in both the melodic anchor of the guitar riff that plays coolly under her vocals and the arresting visuals Parks creates. Vivid colors appear all over the track—rose quartz, purple rose petals tracked around a pool, powder blue walls—creating a more complete sensory experience than we have any right to expect from a song. Parks hauntingly illustrates the marks her lover leaves, singing, “you leave a bit of blood in every room,” and describes how those marks linger with her somber chorus line, “I know that you’ve been here.” Arlo Parks reveals wisdom beyond her 18 years, but “george” also proves that the intensity of these feelings is something that transcends age as well as era.

Imagine you’re driving down a long, wooded road in the middle of a calm summer day. The sun is shining, there are no other cars around, and the lush green trees trick the light into casting prismatic shadows across everything around you. Then, the perfect song comes on your queue: it’s indie rock trio Ritual Talk’s dreamy new single, “If.” The otherworldly soundscapes, psychedelic guitar riffs, and shimmering synths are reminiscent of nature’s hypnotically effortless beauty. Slapping drums push the song forward with vigor and optimism, and the hopeful melody, luminous in the form of singer Alex Desimine’s soothing vocals, feels like the sun coming through the clouds after rain. “If I hold my breath for another second more / fall to the floor,” he sings in the chorus, and his vocals drift off naturally into the arrangement, almost as if they had been born out of it. “If” is a vivid, atmospheric daydream, and it’s Ritual Talk’s best work yet.

"Islands," the title track from New York singer-songwriter Erin Durant’s recently released sophomore LP, is an open-windowed summer lullaby that captures the emotional dissonance that simultaneously experiencing beautiful weather and heartbreak can bring. Swelling piano melodies, the hiss of jazz-tinged percussion, and Hemingway references alight the tune, while Durant coos with the kind of quiet gravitas that harkens the greats of the folk revival. Durant seems to find some comfort in lyrical escapism, lines that paint images of drinking champagne on the Californian coast are informed by the ones that imply tension—“the islands are calling / the islands are calling / you told me to go and have a good time.” Durant’s narrator never settles on the ground, but even as the islands call and heartbreak looms at home, the tune shifts and expands like a kaleidoscope of swooning piano and summer breeze.

"Thinking of" by Mini Trees is as smooth and melodic as you'd expect from the artist. Kicking in a drum beat after the second verse, this silky synth song is interrupted tastefully with just the right speckling of angst and nuance. Mini Trees is the project of L.A.-based drummer Lexi Vega, who released her first EP under the moniker earlier this year. The five tracks are sweet sounding but still cut to the genuine anxiety of self-discovery and loneliness. It's all at once airy and drenched in meaning. The artist's conflict seems to meet at a pinnacle coming-of-age crossroads of self-expression or self-denial. "Thinking of" embodies this confusion and anger with subtlety and mastery. Mini Trees’ breakout EP Steady Me is out now.

On "rbbts," jazz-prodigy turned indie folk-rocker Kate Davis comes to terms with the heart-aching tension of endings and explores the implications of holding on a bit too tightly. With a title that pays homage to a recently shuttered coffee joint in lower Manhattan that Davis once frequented, "rbbts" highlights Davis’s keen narrative and melodic sensibility—one that allows her to remain open and empathetic as the world around her falls to rack and ruin. The instrumentals are low and looming, and a drowsy folk-tinged verse blooms into a chorus that is almost anthemic in its expansiveness and tension. Davis’s voice is both the salve and the wound, her deft lilt carries the emotional core of the song through the changes in cadence with an artful swiftness. Davis’ debut LP Trophy is out on November 8 via Solitaire Recordings.