Summer 2021 is ripe for nostalgic indulgence as the vaccinated emerge, unblinking into the sun after more than a year of darkness. Enter interdisciplinary artist Nathan Bajar, whose Bandcamp profile description reads humbly, “i take pictures & make music :~)”—an oversimplification of his accomplishments in both fields. The emoticon at the end is just one of the many analog touches that frame Bajar’s overarching aesthetic. A quick glance at his past album artwork, all awash in wistful pastels, reveals faded family photo collages and handwritten titles scrawled across college-ruled paper. It seems the entirety of Bajar’s work is an ode to his family life and upbringing, and his latest release, “Big Body,” is no exception. While the track’s inviting lo-fi quality, soulful vocals and summery bassline will pull you in immediately, the lyrics reveal Bajar’s fondness for his old “beater.” As portrayed in the accompanying (and equally nostalgic) music video, the beater in question is none other than his beloved Yukon XL, a “beautiful wreck of gray” whose “days have been better,” especially now, with memories of “twenty in a ten-seater” more than a year behind her. Bajar chooses to indulge in nostalgia’s warm glow by taking the old girl out for “one more joy ride.” Take a cue from him and let “Big Body” and its dizzying background harmonies, swimmy guitar and retro beats be the soundtrack to your summertime indulgence of choice. Photo by Kirsten David. 

Singer and producer Nandi Rose has been releasing music under Half Waif since 2014. Her latest album Mythopoetics takes a mythological view of events from her life and her family, like a potpourri of stories passed down through generations. The fourth track “Fortress” centers around the anxiety of a loved one leaving, however inevitable it may seem. Produced alongside Zubin Hensler, the song is a luxuriantly layered gem of synth-pop. Rose’s siren-like vocals sit atop the garden oasis of synthesizers, ethereal and honeyed. The song’s bridge is a grand explosion, like fireworks of sound as the chorus repeats like a plea for life. As the last flare of the instrumental fades out, Rose’s vocals are left with the sound of an acoustic piano and swelling pads as she sings two simple phrases that manage to evoke so much: “I guess this is all for you / My bet is, it's all for you.” Photo by Ali Kate Cherkis.

Hailing from Toronto, Canada, Frank Mighty’s Hotline makes neo-psychedelic earworms. With a choppy lo-fi piano intro making way to a 2-beat pattern grove and falsetto vocals, “Rakefire” is quick to grab your attention. An Old English insult, a rakefire is defined as a person who overstays their welcome, something this song will never do. Frank Mighty’s Hotline’s soulful voice pairs beautifully with the verse’s minimal melancholic instrumentation, while acoustic instruments usher in the song’s triumphant chorus. The song’s lyrics deal with the fear of not wanting to become a rakefire, like the people you’ve distanced yourself from. “I like the stuff you do just to stay relevant” sums up the song’s look at those who are unable to let go of the spotlight in today’s media and popular culture landscape. While the chorus, “I don’t want another rakefire in the house that I built with my own two hands,” is a self-reflective look at the rakefire in ourselves. Photo by Jenn Stevens.

From the Knoxville, Tennessee quartet Crumbsnatchers, “One Call” is a sun-drenched, high-energy rock tune, infused with some modern psychedelic influences. The group’s name comes from frontman Sam “Guetts” Guetterman’s experience at a faith-based juvenile detention camp when he was 16 years old. The group’s sound is as unique as its name, shaped by a wide array of artists and genres. With its bouncing bass line, tight drums and catchy melody, the song is the epitome of a head-bopping summer track. The melody and harmonies are reminiscent of early surf-rock, making their way down the scale. Despite its catchy upbeat instrumentation, the song’s lyrics lament on a love lost: “I only wanted to make one call / Nothing I could ever say could ever bring my baby back home.” The juxtaposition of the lively instrumentals and the contemplative lyrics makes the song the perfect candidate for crying while on your drive to the beach. Photo by homermixesmusic.

When Dan Croll moved to a new apartment at the end of 2019, he had no idea we’d all be burrowed inside for the next year. He found himself living with loud neighbors and small earthquakes that revealed the cracks of his new home and fueled his snowballing anxiety. In the energetic “Big One,” Croll maneuvers the landmines of nerves that surround his daily life at home, and grapples with the impending promise of the “Big One.” The track’s lyrics play off the fast tempo and staccato instrumentation carried by a picked, overdriven bass line. His partner is trying to calm him by reminding him they are prepared for situations that may arise, but Croll still considers themselves to be on a downward slope. Despite his worries, Croll still takes a humorous approach to the lyrics, declaring his objection that the neighbor he hates may fall on top of him if the “Big One” were to come. Photo by Max Knight.

ALMA is an NYC-based trio of multi-talented women made up of Alba S. Torremocha (vocals, strings, bass, drums, guitar, ukelele), Lillie R. McDonough (vocals, piano, glockenspiel, violin, hammer dulcimer) and Melissa K. Carter (vocals, guitar). The group was brought together by their love of beautiful harmonies and sundry instrumentation to create genre-bending songs that are both intimate and cinematic. Their newest single “Mornight'' is a synth-pop track that showcases their unique sound as they introduce left-field instruments into the pop sphere. An ode to NYC, the song is as bustling and diverse as the city it was made in as the track swells into a cacophony of sound as strings, atmospheric sounds and the group's powerful harmonies soar together. The lyrics contain all the emotions and joie de vivre of a never-ending prodigious night that will be recounted for years to come. “Mornight” is an anthem for excitement and creativity in a city that is a haven for so many artists and makers. Photo by Abbey Mackay.

Swiss-Canadian singer-songwriter and multi-instrumentalist Jesse Marchant released his sixth studio album Antelope Running, a collection of eleven beautifully written songs. A standout track is “Dirty Snow,” where Marchant’s poignant voice is like a celestial call, binding you to every word he sings. He manages the rare feat of sounding both new and familiar, like the distant attachment you feel to a place from your childhood you no longer visit. With simple and effective instrumentation, the song is a bleeding ballad with heartrending lyricism that fans of bands like The National and Nick Cave will undoubtedly treasure. The distorted guitar that enters in the chorus perfectly captures the song’s themes of isolation and quiet desperation as Marchant pleads, “Please understand me.” Despite the uncertainty in what he wants to say, Matchant leads the song to a hopeful conclusion as he sings, “I hope the dirty snow will melt soon.” Photo by Jen Steele.

With countries reopening and summer raging in the northern hemisphere, “Stranger’s Mouth” manages to encapsulate the kaleidoscopic range of emotions of our time. A Swedish duo made up of Emil Erstrand and Nils Nygårdh, Grapell combines confessional lyricism with memorable and danceable instrumentals. With a saxophone riff that immediately hooks you in, the song will undoubtedly make your foot start tapping. The opening line, “Spit out your gum / And stick your tongue into a stranger’s mouth,” is able to contain both the freedom and anxiety of reentering social situations after over a year of isolation. This duality of elation and restlessness that saturates the song reminds us of the vivacity that we only truly experience with other people. An overdriven guitar and the recurring saxophone play off each other in a joyous lead-up to the song’s contemplative bridge, “You broken heart, I hope you know you did it to yourself.” With one last grand chorus, this song will leave you dancing before your tears can dry. Photo by Manne Wahlström.

Chicago-hailing Chase Walsh, popularly known as Worry Club, waltzes back into the scene with an impactful new release, “Bleach." The song welcomes listeners with a languid guitar that appears to hypnotize into a state of dubious bemusement, setting the tone for this reflective piece. The track attests to growing pains, bringing to life those overwhelming urges to transform one's identity in the midst of undergoing a whirlwind of issues. On the track itself, Walsh shared: “I really wanted to capture the nostalgia associated with a fleeting childhood. The idea of growing up has always scared the shit out of me.” In his plight to unearthing deeply-rooted childish nostalgia, Worry Club manages to create a single capable of tapping into one’s past while taking a contemplative eye to the current reality.