Nolan Garrett’s latest single "Finish Line" breathes life and meaning into the word “warm." The lyrics are earnest and sweet, delivered in a stilted, lilting, half-hesitant voice that slowly finds itself transformed into a steady forward current. Each verse is a confession of, perhaps not love, but certainly tenderness nestled amongst gentle acoustic guitar arpeggiations. Synth flourishes fill the spaces between words, like a feeling you can’t quite name rising up and up until it sits just underneath your tongue. It's a visceral, blushing and intense, yet temporary feeling. That’s what "Finish Line" sounds like: a song so warm you can’t help but feel it in your cheeks. It’s like laying in the grass at the park on a hot night late in August. The air is warm and humid, and it sticks on your skin like glitter. You’re so at peace, you almost might be alone if not for the warm body breathing next to you. You meet their gaze and think about how you might experiment with vulnerability, trading secrets and smiles under clouds and stars. Or maybe you’ll just hold their hand and watch the breeze blow the clouds across the moon without saying a word. You almost wish you could stay here forever, listening to the cicadas chitter and feeling warmed deep into your bones. Soon enough, though, it’ll be time to get up and move on. But not yet. In the meantime, you think to yourself, “I’m excited to see where this goes. I’m excited to see how we grow.” 

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.

A crush put this on a playlist for me a couple years ago. It throws me into a very specific time and place. I love the lyrics and the tape warble. Put this on, walk down a rainy street, and try not to feel like the main character. — Phoebe Bridgers

Although Phoebe Bridgers’ Punisher is a solo album, it contains contributions from many other well-established artists, including but not limited to Christian Lee Hutson, Lucy Dacus, Julien Baker, Blake Mills, and all three permanent members of Bright Eyes.

Just shy of twenty, Oxnard-based musician Mauri Tapia is crafting a new kind of meditative indie experience. “New Humanity,” the lead single from Everlasting, the latest LP by Los Retros, is a heavily synth-based tune that sounds a lot like falling asleep in the sun. With lyrics reminiscent of George Harrison in All Things Must Pass, Tapia seems much wiser than his chronological age. But it’s not just Tapia’s words—by mixing Latin American soft-rock inspiration and jazz notes with the intimate feel of a bedroom pop record, Tapia creates a unique sound that exemplifies his search for a higher truth. His voice bleeds into the synths as he sings, “Reach out to find / Seek to unwind / The answer itself is life.” Photo: Ross Harris

14-year-old Laeticia Acra goes by musical moniker Japan, Man. Based in Beirut, Japan, Man combines ethereal bedroom pop with trippy distortions that make for a distinct and delicate sound. Her dreamy musicality is cut by her curt but gentle vocalizations. The indie music newcomer just released her first EP on May 20, which features five tracks of similar, lo-fi laidback instrumentation. "The Bad Days" juxtaposes the light, cloudy musicality with its more melodramatic lyricism— immersing you in a dream state of sorts. It's an airy and fresh sound that's only punctuated by the poetry of the lyricism, which all at once feels fractured and driven by stream-of-consciousness. It's a song denoting a pinnacle point in her life, where her self-consciousness is so overwhelming, the pain can only be drowned out by other emotions or just going to sleep. It's an interesting track that holds a distinct fantastical, jaunty element while also balancing depressive themes. Listen to Japan, Man's "The Bad Days" below and check out her EP I Like to Wait wherever you stream.

"Sword," IAN SWEET's newest release, doesn’t waste any time diving into a groovy, feel-good tune full of easy power. Everything about this song is refreshing, like diving into a pool on a sweltering summer day. Or waking up to the power you have within you, throwing on your sunglasses and taking on the world. That’s what IAN SWEET is doing here, and we’re along for the ride. Slightly grungy guitar and honey-dipped vocal samples with a straight-ahead rock-n-roll groove on an electronic drum set create a sound at once nostalgic and new. “My body is a sword, it gets sharper when it gets ignored,” croons frontwoman Jillian Medford in a voice that recalls both Adrianne Lenker and Feist. The LA native has created a vibe so perfect that it makes us all want to join her wherever she’s going.

This song makes me happy and sad at the same time. I love how immediately it changes my mood when it comes on. Honestly, the best way to describe the feeling it gives me is thankful. — Phoebe Bridgers

Phoebe Bridgers’ sophomore solo album Punisher makes us feel sleepy, focused, and alive. It was released on June 19.

With “My People,” R&B singer-songwriter Amber Mark delivers a song of revolution at its simplest form. Originally a song by Eddie Kendricks released in 1972, the track originally presented a more complex structure, in that it had more than one verse. Following laid back drums and hazy keys, Mark recites, “My people, hold on” as if praying to the heavens. From the marching, looped instrumental to the repetitive nature of her lyrics, the track, which is part of a series of covers titled Covered-19, begins to imitate that of the cries and chants of protesters around the world. Not only does the track sonically seem to take inspiration from those marching, but ideologically as well. As Mark calls for acts of love and unity, she is reminding the world of the determination and tenacity and fervor of her people. In a post, Mark explained the track as “all the people speaking out on behalf of purely loving one another no matter the minuscule .1% differences in our DNA.” All of this comes to a head as the once tranquil beat evolves into a bouncy, trap-inspired instrumental. Still, Mark continues to meditate, “Hold on to love, just show me love / Hold on to love, hold on to love / Hold on to love, we've had enough.” All of the revenue made from “My People” will go to organizations dedicated to developing black agricultural land ownership.

London-based rock band Sports Team are best known for their unwavering assessment of British society, but their lyrical insights apply far and wide. “Here’s the Thing” is a cathartic explosion of disillusionment, complete with wailing horns and guitars. It tackles the competitive mindset of capitalism (“If you’re in bed then someone else is catching worms”) and unrealistic fad dieting (“If you just change the way you eat you’ll never die.”) Listening to it briefly punctures the low hum of existential stress that has settled in my brain. These are, as I hate to remind you, unprecedented times, and the dissonance between the more mundane aspects of life and the overarching issues we are facing can be dramatic. In a moment of quarantined panic sometime last week, I found myself glued to the music video for this song, in which the band performs in a school gymnasium for an audience of young kids. In this context, the bitterness borders on comic as Alex Rice sings to their sullen faces, “It’s all just lies!” But the concerns he articulates are real and seem to pulsate beneath our everyday motions. “The world will be ok if we stop taking flights,” he mocks, knowing it will take so much more. The song doesn’t offer solutions, but hearing these lies unmasked is freeing in its own way. At the very least, it’s nice to know that this band doesn’t believe them either. Listen to “Here’s the Thing” on Sports Team’s debut album, Deep Down Happy. Photo by Louisa Zimmer.