From the first entrance of the moody, cascading guitars and Katelyn Tarver’s crisp, emotive vocal delivery, you can feel the threat of imminent heartache simmering in the background of this deceptively simple pop ballad. “All Our Friends Are Splitting Up” draws on the clear language of someone determined to be understood in a situation that’s fast spinning out of their control. Where Tarver makes broader observations in lines like, “Oh is this just how it goes? / You fall in fast and then it falls apart so slow,” it’s in the little details where she finds specificity: “I know we process things a little differently / But I’m jumping off the bridge while you watch TV.” 

The entrance of drums pushes this seemingly simple ballad further into bedroom pop territory, driving the emotionality home. Reminiscent of Gracie Abrams, “All Our Friends Are Splitting Up” is the kind of song you want to play on repeat in headphones to catch all the layers happening in the production. There’s a melodic meditativeness to the song—it’s both catchy and catches you off guard. It can be heartbreaking to be so hopeful, and Tarver’s song captures the essence of wanting to hold onto a love that you feel fast slipping away. Photo by Ethan Gulley.

Reflective and hyper-relevant, Anderson .Paak’s “Lockdown” feels like a conversation you’d have with a close friend, reflexively calling them up in a moment of downtime to download on what’s been a brutal few months.

He unpacks recent happenings with colloquial candor,

"You should've been downtown (word)"

overlapping current events and personal response 

"Sicker than the COVID how they did him on the ground... / Plus unemployment rate, what, forty million now?"

"Someone cut the channel off the news 'fore I lose it" 

with call-it-as-he-sees it bullshit (read: societal irony, hypocrisy).

"Said, 'It's civil unrest,' but you sleep so sound / Like you don't hear the screams when we catchin' beatdowns? /Stayin' quiet when they killin' n-----, but you speak loud / When we riot, got opinions comin' from a place of privilege."

With characteristically deft verse, .Paak delivers an astute, enduring Black Lives Matter protest song that simultaneously holds space for us to process, in real time along with him, the impact of this surreal moment in our history while we’re currently living it. In simple summation, “the people are rising.” The song leaves us with 40 seconds of instrumental, demanding we take a few more beats to think about it.  

Next, be sure to check out .Paak’s accompanying video as well, featuring additional lyrics by Jay Rock and directed by Dave Meyers. All cast and crew salaries were donated to Dream Defenders.

In their mellow, entrancing fashion, Brooklyn local duo Fake Dad sweetly sing their own rendition of The Postal Service’s “Such Great Heights." Andrea de Varona’s voice aerates the track, inviting a floating feeling into the mix which beautifully fastens the sound to the lyrical notion of being up above the earth. Like a welcomed hallucination, the euphonious plucking of strings likens itself to a warm and rising wind.

Barcelona-based label Son Canciones’ fascinating “Among Horses” project puts two singer-songwriters on a farm with “sixty Spanish horses” and gives them a week to get to know each other and write an EP together. The most recent installment (Among Horses V) is a collaboration between Tucson-based Karima Walker and Katy Kirby of Nashville, TN. 

“Idaho-Dakota,” the fourth of the EP’s five tracks, is a charming song about friendship and the strong power of belief—about drawing someone “taller than they really are,” half because you aren’t perfect and that’s okay, and half because you really believe in them. From the beautiful way Walker and Kirby's voices are able to blend on this track, it’s hard to believe they were previously unacquainted; at times it even feels like the sequel to The White Stripes “We’re Going To Be Friends." The label’s website says that only solar power was used to make these songs, but it’s obvious that heart and humor were also important sources of electricity here. By the way, once you’ve listened to the song a couple of times, look up a map of the border between Idaho and Dakota; if you’re like me, it will charm you even more.

"Graceland Too" is the emo-folk love child of Phoebe Bridgers' second album Punisher, which dropped June 18. This is a stand-out song because it's musically unlike anything else on the record. It's Bridgers flexing her folk muscle on an album that's primarily consumed by emo, alt-rock style musicianship. 

Julien Baker and Lucy Dacus join Bridgers on this track, creating an unmistakable vocal energy that is iconic at this point in their careers. (The three toured together after releasing their EP under the moniker boygenius.) This track combines the women's songwriting strengths beautifully: it's thoughtful, specific storytelling. It transports you to a road trip with a woman down on her luck and reaching for a new start. The subject of this song is reclaiming her independence after emerging from rehabilitation—"No longer a danger to herself or others / She made up her mind and laced up her shoes"—and venturing for something larger than herself. This track captures what Bridgers does best as an artist—transcending genre to deliver a soft, sensitive and unique style of songwriting that clearly expresses the subject at hand. The three-part harmonies on this song are also incredibly well done and completely enchanting. If you're a fan of Phoebe's discography and enjoy pretty folk music, this track is for you. Listen to "Graceland Too" and Phoebe Bridgers' newest record Punisher wherever you stream.

From its first moments, “Nada” feels like taking a ride in a hot air balloon that is powered by swagger. The vocal and flute duet in the introduction represents the ceremony of preparing for the trip; and the moment when the beat drops is when the fire starts and you begin to rise. It’s from that moment that the line between acoustic and electronic begins to melt away—perhaps the most mind-bendingly pleasing aspect of Lido Pimienta’smusic in general. Instrumentally, the track is packed; I hear bass drum, congas, clarinet, saxophone, flute, some kind of harpsichord—the list goes on and on—and occasional electronic effects, like speed shifting and static fuzz, somehow bring out all of these acoustic timbres even more. Lyrically, you don’t have to know Spanish to glean that Lido Pimienta and Li Saumet are not afraid of much, including death; but if you do, you’ll also hear them tell you this directly. “Nada” bears all the signs of a brave, successful experiment: it surprises yet satisfies in a way you can’t fully trace, and it keeps you coming back to its unanswered questions. But you don’t have to know how a hot air balloon works to know you’re on top of the world. Photo: Daniela Murillo