“Honeysuckle” is a dark folk masterpiece in balance from Austin-based Margaret Chavez (Marcus Striplin). The track opens with hypnotic guitar arpeggiations that draw you in like waving wildflowers drawing honeybees. Then come the lyrics, which paint vignettes of tragedy that seem initially at odds with the cheerful guitar melody. As the song progresses, the track unfolds into a retrospective of loss and love. Each verse relays another heavy anecdote of someone the narrator has loved and lost in some form. The stories that hit the hardest are underscored with dark, warbly synths that make you feel as though you are being teleported into the world of memory. The lyrics are so heartbreaking, it would be easy for the song to sink into sadness as deep as Striplin’s beautiful baritone voice; however, the buoyant guitar lines keep the song in the realm of bittersweet. It will be exciting to see what else Margaret Chavez has in store on their sophomore album “Into an Atmosphere," due to release July 31, 2020, via We Know Better Records.

Okay Kaya's fresh release, Watch This Liquid Pour Itself, is a breath of cold air. "Asexual Wellbeing," the second to last single off the project, feels like every tear you've dropped on the dance floor. Kaya Wilkins' lyrics tell a story of a push and pull relationship while narrating all the non-sexual ways that relationship becomes intimate. The visuals for the song were directed by Wilkins herself and recorded in Denmark. They strengthen the meaning of the song by representing growth and transformation, deepened by routine, rituals and the magic of connection. Watch This Liquid Pour Itself is Wilkin's second full-length album under the name Okay Kaya, following her 2018 debut, Both. The Norwegian-born, BK-based singer is set to play several shows in the US and Europe for the next few months.

From the moment he appeared on streaming services seemingly out of thin air early last year, Kent-based singer-songwriter Havelock has been releasing a slow drip of genre-defying singles. His most recent, “LIBERTY," is his attempt at addressing his difficulties kicking an unwanted cigarette habit. While the topic is anything but lighthearted, you wouldn’t get that impression just listening to the instrumental. Hip-hop inspired 808s and a driving, funk-inflected bassline combine to make this the kind of track that you find yourself involuntarily bobbing your head to after a few listens. The groove drops out entirely during the chorus, and this is where Havelock’s clever lyricism and satiny voice really get the space to shine. His self-deprecating outro refrain—“Patched up lookin’ stupid, am I sure I wanna do this, girl?”—paints a vivid picture of a smoker on Nicorette, desperately conjuring a reason to pick up another pack instead of starting to kick the habit. With his debut EP, TRY B4U BUY, due in the coming months, Havelock is looking to close his first year as an artist in triumphant fashion.

Many musicians have plied their trade within the well-worn realm of sparsely-accompanied, heartfelt balladry. “Parakeet”, the recently released track by the Italian-born Birthh, is the latest proof that even the most frequently trodden paths can seem like an overgrown trail full of unseen delights in the right hands. Birthh sings forlornly about childhood memories over somewhat lo-fi guitar chords and fluttering, angelic piano notes, her melody perfectly exhibiting her vocal range and yearning delivery. Just when the song seems like it has settled into its soundscape, the final chorus is imbued with plucky strings, subdued horns and some surprisingly upbeat clapping, adding an almost exultant sheen to her words. When it all suddenly drops out at the track’s conclusion, it becomes difficult to coalesce the song’s bright ending with its slow, nostalgia-tinged first couple of minutes. It’s a little confusing when taken in its totality. The only way to ascertain your feelings on "Parakeet," really, is to spin it again—and therein lies its genius.

Philadelphia-based Maya Bon, frontwoman of Babehoven, released her first musical delicacy of the new year with “Only So”. Bon carries pain like a wounded songbird, making beauty out of the despondency of life. Crooning vulnerabilities such as, “There’s only so much I can take of this destruction," Bon invites her listeners into a sacred space of learning exactly how much she can take, and how much she will no longer allow to be set upon her. Clothed in a simple instrumental accompaniment, her lyrics are the apex of the track, pointing all attention toward them. On February 7, Babehoven will be releasing an EP called Demonstrating Visible Difference of Height.

Orla Gartland’s upcoming EP Freckle Season features “Heavy," a gracefully delivered breakup song. Soft piano accompanies Gartland’s beautiful, stirring vocals in what initially sounds like a classic, lofty lament. However, a closer look at the lyrics suggests that this track is concerned with the somewhat more secondary side effects of a love lost. Longing to do things like “hang with you / and watch Grand Designs” and wishing that “your mum and I could be friends / I think about her now and then / How we drove up to her house / I’ll never see that dog again.” Gartland eventually reaches the titular question, delicately asking “So tell me why this has to be so heavy / Tell me why this has to be / ‘Cause I really thought that we'd be cool / Some exception to the rule”. This song wisely embraces one of the duller pains of parting ways: the loss of all the little things that one can find solace in. We all wonder, do we really have to let these things go all at once? Does it have to be this heavy? Gartland answers, “But honestly, I think it has to be this heavy."