The majority of new music that has been released during quarantine has felt urgent and introspective—often forcing us to face uncomfortable sides of ourselves. However, California artist Lillian Frances has us looking outwards. Her debut album, Moonrise Queendom, is a joy to listen to and puts her among a group of exciting new artists to follow.

On "Pídelo," Frances invites us to look at the moon. She describes a bright summer night, which she’s in awe of—enticing us to join her skywatching. As her lyrics discretely shift to Spanish, she asks us to listen to gossiping stars, "Las estrellas son cotillas, escucha!" Her reverence for the moon and stars is contagious and vibrant with childlike wonder. And yet for a song that wanders through the night sky, "Pídelo" seems to have plenty of sunshine. A self-described "sonic collage," Frances weaves together electronic textures and rhythms with a warped playfulness that brings to mind recent Dirty Projectors.

Lillian Frances brings the same kind of fun, colorful energy to electro-pop that Sylvan Esso did in 2014. It is no surprise that six years ago, while attending a Sylvan Esso concert in L.A, she described what she was thinking on her Facebook page, “that is what I am going to do.” And so she did, and even more impressively, she managed to make her own sound along the way.

“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.”

The Districts can easily be seen as a welcome addition to the trend of Philadelphia indie rockers who play a little more noisily than their Brooklyn or LA contemporaries. They’re in good company with bands like Hop Along and Restorations, who shout over as many as three guitars at a time but use a brighter emotional palette than anger alone. “Hey Jo,” the first single from their upcoming album You Know I’m Not Going Anywhere, is a more delicate song, more coming-of-age than teenage angst. Singer Rob Grote explores his falsetto as he confronts bucked expectations, asking a friend, “How’s Los Angeles? Have you seen any stars? Does the sunshine get old?” Those opening questions are symbolic of the larger confusion within the song of, as Grote explains, “relationships unfurling amidst the dysphoria of the modern world.” “We are all imperfect products of the natural world,” he continues, “and more specifically, products of our own mind.” You can almost hear the strain in his voice, not accustomed to singing so high, so quietly or so tenderly, as he addresses his own internal struggles and tries “to be something more perfect, gentle, and beautiful.”

LA-based singer-songwriter Adam Melchor’s “I Choose You” proclaims an all-encompassing love. The song is an off-kilter, technicolor daydream for your ears—full of raucous voices. It wobbles through perfectly depicting the absent-mindedness that can accompany the obsession of new love as Melchor sings, “used to always say I was good with people’s names / now I’ve forgotten everyone’s and you’re to blame.” Produced by Ethan Gruska, Andrew Sarlo, and John Debold, the track is layered with elaborate sounds that never drown out Melchor’s sweetly melodic voice. Both the production and lyrics are a celebration of the knot in your stomach you feel when you like someone so much you can barely breathe or think whenever you're around them. Melchor leans into the idea that love is a game of chance, and finding your one person is as much luck as it is anything else, “I choose you / out of billions of people / we got it down to two.” ”I Choose You” rounds out a busy year for Melchor—having released his sophomore EP Plan On You in the spring followed by the single “Joyride” this fall.