"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.

Explorative and bright, “Tongue Kissing,” the new single from Swedish indie-electro band Little Dragon, is a genre-busting bop that encourages listeners to live boldly and dance like nobody’s watching. As sensory as a 70s disco party, the arrangement is dynamic and delightfully unexpected. Instruments from all genres merge together seamlessly: a bellowing, retro bass, electronic keys, and a cool, bendy guitar line make for a laid-back groove with a nostalgic edge. Muffled but sharp percussion keeps a steady, pulsing beat that nearly forces you to get up and move, and keeps your attention throughout the entire unconventional arrangement. Most notable of all is frontwoman Yukimi Nagano’s distinct, otherworldly vocal. She sings the chorus over twinkling synths, a repeated “Tongue kissing / Tongue kissing now,” and suddenly you’re hypnotized. You won’t be able to get the words out of your head for hours, but the song is so good, it’s worth it.

One of our resident spooky queens strikes again with a Phil Collins cover that kills. Lucy Dacus recently put out a gorgeous cover of "In the Air Tonight” and it's equally as nostalgic as it is original. Dacus' take on the legendary pop hit is sultry (her vocals taking the reins) and still heavily '80s influenced. This single release is part of a series of releases Dacus has put out in the last few months in preparation for an EP dropping November 8.

Mount Eerie and Julie Doiron have reunited to deliver their second record together entitled Lost Wisdom Pt. 2, which arrives next Friday. The project is the follow-up to their 2008 release Lost Wisdom. The duo reintroduces themselves with the first single “Love Without Possession," offering up a broadened standpoint about what it means to love. Phil Elverum and Doiron gently explore what can lie beneath pain and loss with poignant words that ride along soft acoustic strumming. While there may be moments that consist of a small amount of helplessness, there is also hope and the sense that a new beginning might not be something that’s completely unattainable. Their calm, clear voices float along as they reflect on what a good next move might be, “Watch me while I churn / Still holding this love for you / Without a thing to do / But try to live / In this uninvited liberation / Without a home in your life or heart.” The question of where you go when you feel lost is a persistent one, but also not one that anyone truly faces alone. Lost Project Pt. 2 is officially out on November 8 via P.W. Elverum & Sun.

In Porches’ newest track, “rangerover,” Aaron Maine creates a portrait of astonishing clarity from pieces of blurry photographs. Each verse begins confused, and even syntactically out of order, (“Julie, rangerover, she’s riding it…") but then manages, with a slow jog, to catch up with itself by the ending image of solitary stillness (“When you close your eyes, all you see is her face”). As the chord progression gradually ascends throughout the song, every aspect of the instrumentation feels equally likely to energetically burst or slowly collapse, from the terse echo of the 80’s snare to the lethargic tension in the synth parts. Meanwhile, the insatiable tone of Maine’s vocals is beautifully complemented and grounded by the hazy backing croon of Blood Orange’s Dev Hynes. At just over two minutes long, “rangerover” is a quick trip that leaves a lot unresolved. Even though you are airlifted from the dream as abruptly as you were dropped into it, the chorus leaves one thing clear: sometimes it’s the people who drive you, figuratively and literally, who provide the best reminders of why you “wanna live, wanna live, wanna live.”

“Never Said” is the dreamy new track from indie artist and New York native Samia. The song is a slowed down, mellowed out cover of Liz Phair’s original, which came out 25 years ago on her debut album Exile In Guyville. Samia’s rendition is gorgeous, breezy and completely unique, swapping the classic rock guitars for slow, sultry strums and adding uplifting keys and spacey, atmospheric synths. The lush arrangement evokes the comfort of early 2000s-style sunshine rock, adding an element of nostalgia to the otherwise bright and gentle instrumentation. Samia’s voice, reminiscent of Sarah Mclachlan mixed with Phoebe Bridgers, is as clear and inviting as a lullaby. She repeats the memorable line “I never said nothing” like she’s casting a spell, and you’ll fall prey whether you like it or not. Gentle and gripping, “Never Said” is a thoughtful cover that Samia has made all her own.