"Who the fuck is Lauren Ruth Ward?” reads the descriptive text teasing the 31-year-old American singer and guitarist’s website. Ward is a firecracker, a Scorpio, a water sign. What do Maggie Rogers, Father John Misty, and Lauren Ruth Ward have in common? Their voices read like anachronisms, under-processed, floral, not limited to modernity or copying what came before. They make music that’s difficult to place but electric to absorb. What’s more, all three artists hail from Maryland, a state that isn’t classically associated with rock music, and one that also happens to be where I grew up. On the Mason-Dixon line, this is a place where country music is charred with a rock sensibility, or in the case of Ward, rock is infused with a smokey folk flavor. Prior to moving to Los Angeles, Ward, who rocks Angel Olsen bangs and tie-dye hair, worked as a hairdresser in her native town of Baltimore. “Water Sign” is a song that you feel throughout your whole body. “I'm living in my personal hell / I don't need your ammunition / Everybody say ‘Oh, I can tell’ / Can only see my own vision,” drawing out the last syllables into a growl. Ward sings of emotional volatility: being vulnerable to the moods and actions of people trying to swerve into her left lane. Single lines speak volumes, with punctuated pauses and Ward’s sharp tongue (“I did it my sentence it was cruel but I finished it”). If you’re in New York, don’t miss Ward’s upcoming show at Rough Trade in April.

LA-based indie-pop artist Tim Atlas trades his relationship fears for newfound confidence on "Crime of Passion," a single from his self-produced EP, Together Lonely. Atlas' airy timbre breezes over a mechanical drumbeat, which insistently mimics the urgency with which he professes his love. Where trusting a new lover can be driven by blind faith, Atlas likens the act to a "crime of passion," assuring them that  "I don’t do this often / But I know that I can for you." When talking about the song Atlas says, "This confidence I have in this specific relationship isn’t something I’d normally possess," says Atlas. "A crime of passion is the notion that I’d do whatever it took to be in that person’s life.” As he sings of "the gravity I save for you," we're reminded that when one lives with an underlying feeling of social anxiety, sometimes all it takes is one person to be a grounding force.

Gabriel Birnbaum (also known as lead vocalist and songwriter of Wilder Maker) released a solo album smirkingly called Not Alone in November. Like its title, Not Alone is at turns darkly humorous and legitimately humbling. Each reflective half-story provides a healthy, balanced tincture of grim irony and earnest nostalgia. Lyrically, “Mistakes” is a regretful realization, a retelling of a past too blurred with booze to have been fully witnessed by its antagonist in real-time. Birnbaum’s careful relationship to language provides a number of delicious images throughout the track, culminating in the compelling line that gives the song its name: I saw the way the pieces fit, / mistakes I dug my toes between like bricks / How do I know that they were mistakes at all? But in contrast to Birnbaum’s meticulous approach to his text, he has an experimental jazz musician’s relationship to instrumentation. From the first glorious moment that “Mistakes” stumbles into existence, each instrument already sounds happy-drunk on its own bottle of wine, as ragtime piano and country guitar blend with jazzy drums to create something fresh and yet unnamed. Overall, the ensemble manages to create a satisfying, controlled chaos that honors a whole host of American musical traditions, including country, rock, jazz and everything in the dusty cracks between.

Nu Deco Ensemble brings a full-bodied sound to their reimagining of Kishi Bashi’s “Honeybody.” This new version trades synths and electronic beats for a 30 piece hybrid orchestra started by two Juilliard graduates. It leans into the joyous nature of the song—adding staccato piano to perfectly accompany Kishi’s rhythmic vocals as he sings, “Hey you, Honeybody / When you coming out for gameplay? / I got my Checkers out, Chess, Parcheesi.” The strings section adds a dramatic levity to the already lighthearted and fun track. Its sonic maximalism is impossible to listen to without smiling and dancing along. This orchestra for the 21st century proves that classical instruments have a place in modern music. “Honeybody” is from Nu Deco Ensemble’s self-titled debut album, which was produced in full by Kishi Bashi. Check out the live music video here.

December 25th is quickly approaching, so get yourself into the holiday spirit with FEET’s “Vegetarian Christmas”! The playful tune brings us through the countless joys of Christmas day—walking down icy sidewalks, spending time with extended family, and eating a nice meal together. As the title suggests, the story is all about what it’s like to be a vegetarian during this festive time, and how we might alter our eating habits to create new traditions that will be beneficial for our future. Lead vocalist Jeep sings, “Sent to the garden shed to get those extra seats / Already anticipating what the grandparents think a vegetarian eats …Wholesome at heart / Playing your part / Vegetarian / Nothing’s a tradition until it starts / Vegetarian.” Sleigh bells ring and choir-like voices sing, yet the signature retro-rock style of FEET still shines throughout the song. With musical influences like Parquet Courts, Frank Zappa, and King Gizzard and The Lizard Wizard, FEET sounds like the glorious lovechild of King Kruleand The Growlers. This is the first track the group has released since their debut album What’s Inside is More Than Just Ham, and we are excited to see what’s in store from them in 2020.

Melbourne duo Kllo have created a perfect late-night in-your-feelings vibe with their new track “Back To You.” On paper, the musical formula of the song seems almost untenably simple: the drum machine beat is basic, and the few keyboard licks are short and subtle. But the mysterious addictive power of the song can be traced to a single repetitive vocal sample which fades in and out of the background but remains ever-present, like a restless ghost. In conversation with this apparition, the candle-lit vocals of Chloe Kaul create a paradoxical mood, undeniably drowsy yet also packed with energetic tension. “If we missed the boat,” she asks, “would it come back someday?” Lyrically, Kaul grapples out loud with the disorienting push and pull of an off-and-on relationship, one that at times feels inevitable but whose ultimate direction is still largely shrouded in mist. Overall, on “Back To You,” Kllo show us that a true vibe is way more than the sum of its parts.

"Fool’s Gold" is the latest Lucy Dacus original; it is evocative of an all-encompassing warm, muted light from the very beginning. With soft piano notes, Dacus invites us into the end of her New Year’s Eve party. In a quote shared on her Instagram, the Richmond local expresses how cathartic the releasing of this EP was for her. Dacus recorded a handful of covers relating to different holidays, ending the EP with this last song, which is her own work. Each track gave her something to look forward to during the holidays, a time wherein many people struggle to find themselves in a posture of celebration. Her clear voice over the light and frolicking acoustic guitar carries us through a discourse on cynicism in the most delicate and graceful fashion.

Cayucas blends melody with a meticulously crafted assortment of noise in “Alligator.” It is soft and sweet with precise imagery like “jesus christ glued onto the dashboard/photograph cutout taped to cardboard” weaved among keyboard clacks and wind chimes. Zach and Ben Yudin stick to their light indie-pop sound that somehow always feels pleasantly nostalgic. The track builds gently as they assemble the pieces: vocals, keyboard noises, a gentle wind chime, and a simple strum of a guitar. The simplicity of the beginning allows for the world they are building to fill in the gaps before they add percussion and keys. "Alligator" resembles the memory of a day you are trying to dredge up by recalling specific moments—the way the air smelled, the color of the mattress—or maybe it’s all a dream, “caught between dreams awake and sleeping/eyelids half shut and getting heavy." It is sweet and soft, but a little off-kilter.

Villagers construct the sort of washed-out atmosphere that sounds like falling asleep, drifting into a dream with details that only briefly flicker in the morning. Following 2018’s phenomenal full-length The Art Of Pretending To Swim, the Dublin band returns with a brand new EP only slightly more than a year later. “The tracks that fell through the cracks; it turns out they had their own story to tell,” says singer Conor O’Brien. “The Sunday Walker EP is a collection of lost songs as much as it is an emotional arc. Songs of loss and songs of realization. Songs of empathy and isolation.” On “Note To Self (For Michael),” the EP’s closing track, the production makes O’Brien sound distant, but he sings as if whispering only inches away. The song’s components seem to move at separate speeds, with relentlessly steady drums and swirling melodic elements, as O’Brien posits that the ability to “love your tears” is tantamount to the ability to love anything at all.