Today, Berkeley folk artist Maya Elise premieres her newest song, “Side of the Road.” The track tells the story of a summer road trip, which makes it especially fitting that it’s perfect for singing along with. In the first verse, as Maya describes all the people she is picking up along the way, her rich vocals fill every crack between guitar and drums with a friendly warmth. Though she gives us only a few details on each person she meets, you can almost see each of their faces: the woman in Portland making jasmine tea, the Washington man she learned to trust, the brave woman from Alabama, and the South Dakota man looking for a home all look somewhat familiar. The song gradually builds to a transcendent scene in which the car full of new friends go skinny-dipping in the Atlantic Ocean, perhaps the ultimate symbol of the trust they have built along the way. On “Side of the Road,” Maya reminds us that making friends doesn’t have to be as complicated or awkward as we often make it out to be. Sometimes all it takes is two people going in the same direction and choosing to not be alone. The rest, perhaps, will figure itself out.

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.

Awash in softness, “To Philly” by Del Water Gap begins with gentle guitar strums, emotional vocals and simple, heartache-y lyrics. The simplicity is overwhelming, evoking so much while saying so little. "To Philly" sounds like a memory; lyric by lyric, pluck by pluck, the vocals melt together to tell a story of love, loss and something bittersweet. Though they start similarly, the single and music video diverge in sound; the track itself picks up, while the video stays soft and slow. As the drumbeat introduces itself, the song gains momentum and carries on with energy, before slowly coming to a close. The video, on the other hand, stays low throughout in a lovely way. The acoustic is strummed slower and the vocals are sung softer, as the music emerges with an aura of tenderness and intimacy. Strung together with snippets of footage, the home video layers the fleeting moments of life over the subtlety of the track, creating something altogether beautiful. Bask in the gorgeous croons of Del Water Gap at The Wild Honey Pie’s next NY dinner party, happening November 19 at Le Fanfare, and keep your ears open for his newest EP, Alive from Fresno out November 22 via Terrible Records.