We’re heading back to Songbyrd Music House in DC this December 14 with the help of our friends at Topo Chico to celebrate the holidays in style with a dinner party with Matthew E. White and Michelin-award winning Chef Marcelle Afram, known best for their work at Maydan. Tickets are on sale now and include a 5-course tasting menu of inventive Palestinian cuisine, intimate live show from White, 2 free Topo Chico-infused drinks and more surprises. Buy your tickets here.

You can get a sample of Matthew E. White’s music in this post. He has worked as a collaborator, producer and arranger for acts including Bedouine, Natalie Prass, Foxygen, Justin Vernon, Hiss Golden Messenger, Sharon Van Etten, The Mountain Goats, Dan Croll and Slow Club. His music has also been featured in film and TV, most recently in Netflix movie To All The Boys I’ve Loved Before. Join us for a good time, you won’t regret it.

At first listen, “Socially Alive” sounds blissful and nonchalant with its stacks of vocal harmonies and staccato pop instrumentation. With steel-pan-sounding keys bouncing through the chords and the bubblegum-like melody, the song sounds like a light beach day, filled with sunshine and joy. The instrumentation is almost like a companion to the feeling of excitement as places start to reopen, optimistic and vibrant.  But the lyrics tell another story. After this past year of isolation, most of us (especially those of us who fall under the introvert category) saw a dwindle in our capacity for socialization. Throughout the song,  c. The melody allows for the lyrics to feel like they are Su Lee’s thoughts in real-time, racing through every bad scenario whilst trying to keep herself calm. The juxtaposition of the instrumentals and the lyrics depict the dichotomy of feelings at this ever more complex time. Photo by Su Lee.

Dream pop duo Drauve is comprised of Pittsburgh natives, Victoria Morgan and Stephen Grzenda. In their second track out this year, "Search Party," Drauve musically captures a relatable story about finding oneself amidst the noise of others’ expectations and opinions. Intertwined through textured euphoric reverb and echoing vocals, the lyrics reveal the singer’s personal journey dealing with mental illness while grasping for a sense of her own truth. “Reaching for a sign of life 'cause there’s no end in sight" reveals the necessity for an escape from what others think and how empowering it could be to simply to live authentically. A sense of honesty and inward reflection defines the song’s journey home. The combination of airy vocals, lyrical depth and a mesmerizing, dreamy soundscape leaves us hopeful for more tracks from the duo. Photo by Jesse Schlauch.

What does it mean to be “too much?" Does it somehow, ironically, mean we’re not enough for someone? It can feel that way when we try hard to please everyone, yet somehow fall short of their expectations. On “Elephant,” Samia laments on this burden with arresting honesty and candid stream-of-consciousness thoughts about the cycle of disappointing others, then reconciling with oneself. Over distorted synths and lo-fi guitar, she sings, “I brought an elephant / To the most delicate place.” When we fail to please people, it can be difficult to avoid placing blame on ourselves. But, it takes a hard-earned, emotionally resilient and self-assured mindset to realize that your expectations of yourself are the only thing that matters at the end of the day—that sometimes, you can only do your best to be a good person and bow out to preserve your energy when it isn’t enough for someone else (“I reset my tolerance / Now it’s easier to fail the audience”). Samia has learned one of the most important lessons in life, which she offers listeners in the most poignant lines of the song: “You cannot make everyone happy / But you can force a smile on their face / Just place your fingers / On each side of their mouths / And pull towards heaven / Until their teeth peak out.” You can hear the track on her new EP Scout, out now via Grandy Jury Music. Photo by Sophia Matinazad.

There are moments in Sling, Clairo's newly released sophomore LP, that feel so eloquent and personal, I have to remind myself that I haven't accidentally accessed someone's private voice memos. "Reaper" is one of these transcendent, mature and especially affecting moments on the record. A love letter to her mother (and the prospect of motherhood in and of itself), "Reaper" was the first track Claire Cottrill penned for the album. I'll refrain from over-explaining that this album is musically distinct from its predecessor Immunity—I'll let you have the pleasure of delving into it yourself. But it's worth mentioning, for this song in particular, that Clairo is emerging as an excellent folk writer. She's clearly drawing inspiration from some of the best Americana acts of the last century, emulating everyone from Joni Mitchell or Crosby, Stills and Nash to Fleet Foxes. But don't misunderstand: Cottrill is hardly a copycat. She's carving out a sound and a voice that is entirely her own.

I, like a lot of young people during the pandemic, had the opportunity to be home with my parents for a while. Reacquainting myself with them as an adult was inspiring and hard, and most frequently filled me with a sense of hope. It is this broken hope, a hope that comes from deep, empathetic understanding, that Cottrill communicates so effectively in "Reaper." This is why it resonates so deeply with listeners. This shattered but aspirational reaching toward life reverberates through the entire record and is punctuated in the frail, little pockets of her expertly sewn lyricism. "I'm born to be somebody, then somebody comes from me / I'll tell you about the Rabbit Moon and when to keep walking" are some of my favorite lines from this track, and are all the more permeating through Cottrill's signature soft vocals.

Clairo's ability to empathize so specifically with the speakers of her songs makes her one of the wisest and most interesting young performers right now. Sling was well worth the wait. It's a clear reflection of the hard work and thoughtfulness of an expert writer honing her craft. Photo by Adrian Nieto.

The project of LA-based multi-instrumentalist and singer/songwriter Noah Weinman, Runnner has been steadily growing a fanbase since the release of their first single in 2019. Now, two years and a global pandemic later, they are releasing their anticipated debut album Always Repeating with Run for Cover Records. The opening track “Monochrome” has all the hallmarks of the magical sound of Runnner: raw and clever songwriting, heart-tightening vocals and dynamic acoustic instrumentation. The soft picked banjo and acoustic guitar create a perfect synthesis for Weinman’s emotive vocals and lyrics to flow through, while the tight drums accentuate the changing movements of the song. A meditation on a past relationship, the lyrics follow through a tapestry of memories, in black and white like an old film. As Weinman reaches the end of his memories, he reminds us that they are often warped by our emotions and nostalgia as he sings, “I’ve been trying to draw you with my eyes closed, you’re not gonna like how it turned out.” Photo by Silken Weinberg.