"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.

Lull yourself into a deep state of relaxation with indie-folk artist Aisha Badru’s new single, “Soil’s Daughter.” Reflective and peaceful, the track’s hypnotic ambiance is the perfect way to unwind for sleep or to ease yourself into a new day. It’s also one of Badru’s most mature and unique tracks to date. The minimal arrangement emphasizes the song’s raw emotional pull; with nothing more than airy backing synths to support Badru’s light, lovely vocals, “Soil’s Daughter” relies heavily on the strength and clarity of her words, and she does not disappoint. Equally wispy and gripping, Badru sings with a quiet sort of power that mimics the wisdom of the ages. Through her lyrics, she lays herself bare in search of truth: “Now down by the water / She told me I am the soil’s daughter / And although I look just like my father / My roots, they extend much farther.” Spiritual and soft, “Soil’s Daughter” is a transcendent piece of songwriting that also acts as a meditation on life.

Ryan Egan's latest single, "I Feel Like Crying," is a deeply evocative and cinematic departure from his typical synth-pop. This track is slow and strong, paired with lyrical musings on the fragility of relationships. Egan ponders love and loss alongside the tinkling of plucked violins and heavy orchestral strings. "I Feel Like Crying" flows along like a dance. At first, it's powerful and deep, but then it gradually becomes more hopeful and timid as it progresses. This song is a surprising move for Egan, as he mostly produces indie-pop music. It's a welcome change of pace: "I Feel Like Crying" is a beautiful track that new listeners and long-time appreciators of Egan's work will enjoy.

With an undeniably groovy and hypnotic flow, NY-based artist Spencer. comes in hot with his latest single “Automatic.” The artist embodies both an addicting indie sound found within his sharp guitar notes and a warmly welcomed depth of soul. A funky bassline and reverb-heavy strings—reminiscent of The Internet’s sound—scoot the track along and lay the perfect ground for Spencer.’s moody vocals. Great frustration with a romantic partner is displayed in the lyrics; there’s an awareness inside the singer, reminding him that he'll just keep coming back again and again, even when this person ignores him for weeks on end. He sings, “Someday / You’ll make me wanna walk away / I promise it won’t be today.” Everybody has that somebody, the person who makes their pride completely evaporate with a single text or phone call. “Automatic” is a smooth groove with lyrics cognizant of one’s own Achilles’ heel, igniting excitement for the future of Spencer.'s work with 4AD. The artist just wrapped up touring with Gus Dapperton this fall, and we can look forward to more tunes coming out on in the new year.

Conchúr White has been playing music in bands for years, but now he has finally burst forth with his debut solo single, “Daisies.” The track begins with White’s high, clear tenor voice skating over a bare arrangement of classical instruments, evoking the nostalgia of an early Lana Del Rey. Next, it shifts into a rhythmic and moody late 2000s alternative rock style reminiscent of Parachutes-era Coldplay, and finally dynamically builds into an Of Monsters and Men-style drum-laden, guitar-pounding catharsis. In combination with this veritable salad of sounds, the addition of shoegaze-y guitar riffs and White’s metaphor-heavy lyrics position the song solidly within its own stylistic realm. With “Daisies,” White introduces himself to the world as a theatrical raconteur with crystalline vocals. And with an understated, pithy chorus line like, “Do I even need to say it? / Love is kinda complicated,” the charms of this track are hard to resist.

“Angel” is Alexander Beggins’ solo debut into the musical realm with his refreshing new project CoCo Zandi. Opening with a muted melody, the tropically-inspired tune evokes the age-old experience of allowing oneself to fully engage in fluttery love. Reeling with a sound reminiscent of the dreamy ’60s, Beggins carries simple, evocative truths and vulnerabilities over resounding percussion. With airy touches of ukulele, Angel creates a heartfelt slow dance down an empty beach, interrupted only by the footwork of hand-in-hand lovers.

Soccer Mommy’s second single of 2019, “yellow is the color of her eyes,” masterfully captures the deeply private and lonely experience of realizing you are losing someone. In many ways, Sophie Allison’s performance will be familiar and comforting to fans: in the guitar work you’ll recognize the twangy echoey charm of her special brand of shoegaze-infused Americana, and her lyrics are still sprinkled with memorable, offbeat metaphors (“eyes like clementines,” the “sun feels like yellow”). At the same time, in some ways, this track taps into uncharted emotional territory for Soccer Mommy. Allison says the song came out of “a time when I was on the road constantly and I felt like I was losing time—specifically with my mother.” So, lyrically, there is no time for ephemeral feelings here, like jealousy or the thrill of a crush. Instead, all seven spacious minutes are spent diving deep into the types of feelings we too rarely talk about: the acute discomfort of regret, and the powerlessness of confronting time’s cruel disregard for our human schedules. She even tells us why she needs to open up: “I could lie,” she sings, “but it’s never made me feel good inside.” As listeners, we can benefit from her cathartic outpour too: in it, she not only showcases the impressive emotional maturity of her songwriting in new ways, but also implicitly urges all of us to stop telling “tiny lies” to ourselves about impermanence.

After spending four months off the grid on the Sea of Cortez, Denver pop-duo Tennis have returned with “Runner,” a retro new jam off their upcoming album, SWIMMER, out Valentine’s Day 2020. Born from a guitar riff that was written and recorded in a fisherman’s cove where the musicians had just an acoustic guitar and drum sequencer, “Runner” is the first track Tennis wrote for the new album. Singer Alaina Moore’s sweet soprano voice soars above Patrick Riley’s catchy guitar hooks, synth filled melodies, and prominent drum beats that pulse steadily throughout the song. Congruent with the themes discussed in their 2017 LP Yours Conditionally, this romantic track delves into the disconnect between what Moore feels and what she believes she should be feeling given her faith. She sings, “Every little bead of sweat / Feel it running down my neck / When you look at me like that / Feeling like we can't go back / If I become a pillar of salt / I'll know that it was all my fault.”