Petey - The Same Chords
Petey’s “The Same Chords” begins with a captivating ricochet of sound and continues into gorgeously honest lyrics. This track comes off of Petey’s new EP Checkin’ Up On Buds, which features a lineup of four candid, hard-hitting and compelling songs, each with unique feels but carrying consistency in charm. Guided by the soft touch of keys and the ease of guitar, this song addresses the monotony and consternation that comes with being human and the importance of recognizing that there are people who truly care, and being a friend who does truly care. Throughout the chorus, Petey repeats, “There’s nothin' more important than your checkin' up on buds,” which is the lyric that christens the EP with its name.
— Laney Esper on November 2, 2020
St. South - RED
Our minds have the ability to run rampant, to think about hundreds of different things in the amount of time it takes to open a bottle of water, take a sip, and put the cap back on. St. South encapsulates this sensation in her song “RED.” Starting with what sounds like someone taking a drink of water, the songwriter, singer, and producer delves into her inner monologue. Her airy vocals accompany synths that sound like the musical equivalent of skipping rocks on a river. This is in direct juxtaposition to sharp percussion and lyrics that detail the reasons she no longer wants to be with her partner. While at times it sounds like St. South could be singing directly to this person, upon closer inspection it sounds as though “RED” is a reminder to herself that she deserves better. The repetition of the line, “I’ve got things to do / Things to do today,” affirms that. Whether she uses it as a mantra for self-discipline or as a casual reminder to push through the hurt she may be feeling, it leaves the listener to reflect on their own priorities. As someone whose brain is always racing at a hundred miles a minute, I found comfort in St. South’s ability to conceptualize the feeling that accompanies knowing that your relationship is unhealthy and your priorities are not aligned. Photo by Liam Gillie
— Sloan Pecchia on July 22, 2020
Cape Francis - Just Because
In many ways, 2020 has beckoned us to take personal responsibility for our actions; to be brutally honest with ourselves and others, as well as understand that we must change our lifestyles to protect our neighbors from sickness, injustice, and ignorance—even when this ignorance resides within ourselves. In this way, one of the latest tracks from Cape Francis (solo project of Kevin Olken Henthorn) is a sign of the times. “Just because I looked in a mirror / Don’t make my life appear any clearer / I’m sick of blaming everything else on everyone / So I can pretend it ain’t my bad.” Filled with poignant lyrics and pensive strumming recognizable from Henthorn’s 2019 album Deep Water, “Just Because” reminds us that we must shine a light on ourselves; not only to more clearly see the effects of our words and actions on those around us, but to banish old habits and complacency, and start anew. It brings to mind a mantra I jotted down at the beginning of quarantine:
& i die
a thousand little deaths
each day, so that
tomorrow, i might
be born again.
— Heddy Edwards on July 22, 2020
Dinah Is- Thinking Backwards
If you’re looking for a summer fling anthem to live through vicariously, "Thinking Backwards" is the song for you. Lyrically, Dinah Is effortlessly charms with her wit, tossing in lines that tickle your inner English major with playful imagery. A particular favorite of mine: “Weird voices are onto me; they follow me like they’ve lost their key." Alongside sparkly layered synths and compelling rhythms, the track chronicles thrills and chills of flirting with that cute person you’ve kind of got a crush on. Kick drums bring you into the groove, imitating the feeling of your heart leaping up into your throat and pulsing in your ears. Stacked harmonies and effects add a sense of cinematic augmented reality—letting you sink into the rom-com fantasy we’ve all wanted to live in sometimes. Overall, "Thinking Backwards" feels like walking home drunk from a party with someone you really like, swept over with bliss, and harmonies ringing in your ears over the fact that they like you too.
— Allison Hill on July 21, 2020
Aunty Social - Thinking about Thinking about Thinking
Bath House
I found a bath house nested on the peak of a mountains back
and all that was asked:
to untie my corset of abandonment
and surrender it to the eye
Crosslegged I sat, watching seasoned hands
swim above the sponge towards the rusted steel wool
For this was no ordinary forgiveness
and I was of no simple repair
I begged instead,
can she pick the guilt from beneath my nails
and trim the unkempt shame hiding my eyes
Rather,
she scrubbed thy skin of
romantic sin until
my bodies hue blushed rouge
Then looked away
as my vertebrae's sang
the sweet confessional tune
Warmth spilled from shoulder
to toe like children's red striped pajamas
and for a sweet instant, I felt
I glittered in the sun
Holly Humberstone - Overkill
On “Overkill," Holly Humberstone is preparing to do something brave. Maybe you’ve had to be brave before too, so you’re probably familiar with how it works. Once you realize you can do it—the brave thing—time starts moving more quickly. You can’t backpedal; you’ll do the thing, or you won’t. For a while, each thought feels like a drop in a bucket that will eventually overflow.
That realization is exactly where we find Humberstone at the beginning of the song. She’s almost ready to spill big, unwieldy feelings to her partner, and she is afraid they will come across as too much—as overkill. But throughout the track, she shows us that she has a lot of things going for her. Like some of her indie-pop elders—Tegan & Sara, Empress Of, Robyn—Humberstone beautifully harnesses the power of stark simplicity in her lyrics. “You don’t have to say it back / I just want to know where your head’s at,” she tells herself in a frosty alto, and you can feel a waterfall of subtext fill every crevice. As the song goes on, the lyrical tone shifts gradually from restrained deliberation to decisive declaration, and the music follows. The musical climax—an immaculate syncopated drum hit at 2:20—is the sound of that final drop in the bucket; and the electronic swirl of twinkling stars that emerges in the track’s final minute is what tells us—and Humberstone—that tonight's the night.
— Karl Snyder on July 21, 2020
H.E.R. - I Can’t Breathe
The Black Lives Matter movement didn’t start in 2020, but this year is ushering in an era ripe for new protest music. “I Can’t Breathe” by H.E.R. could very well be the definitive anthem against racial profiling and police brutality. The title, which has since become a slogan often used in protest messaging, references the last words of multiple victims of murder at the hands of police, starting with Eric Garner and most recently and famously by George Floyd. This song is meant to be listened to actively, with no distractions, so as to fully absorb the message, of which every word is important. Gabriella Wilson, the artist known professionally as H.E.R., sings clearly and with a careful pacing, likely intentional for the sake of communicating the lyrics most effectively. With an emotional, pleading tone in her voice, she delivers a straightforward gut punch: “I can’t breathe / You’re taking my life from me / I can’t breathe / Will anyone fight for me?” A slam poetry-style rap section tackles multiple aspects of the complicated issue of racial injustice in America, from systemic oppression to white privilege. “Be thankful we are God-fearing because we do not seek revenge; we seek justice,” the poet cries, with equal parts heart-wrenching fervor and activist authority. “I Can’t Breathe” is the message we all need to hear right now.
— Karyna Micaela on July 20, 2020
Secret American - Here Comes a Man
The newest single from bi-coastal-based Secret American, “Here Comes a Man,” seems to float along an island breeze. A mournful trumpet opening preludes heartbeat-style drums that whisk you inside an indie romance film—one where you happen to be sipping a piña colada on the beach while locking eyes with your summertime love-at-first-sight. Lead vocalist Derek Krzywicki offers us rose-colored vision into this meet-cute in the opening line, softly singing in the vein of an Americana Alex Turner, “Hello, I’ve seen your face before, I don’t recall your name / You’re looking at me too long through a glass of champagne.” But before we know it, he has craned his neck to notice his love-interest’s sub-par boyfriend and the song transforms from an ode to instant attraction into a declaration of daring confidence: “Is he making you happy, doesn’t look like he can." As the protagonist walks up to them, he grunts both musically and memorably, and announces his own presence with “Here comes a man.” It brings to mind the otherworldly recognition that comes with meeting the eyes of our future love, and smirking as we approach them—knowing we’re about to shatter their world in the best way possible:
how curious, as
you glide on cumulus
clouds, instantly
i realize—i’ve climbed
all of the mountains
contained in the galaxies
swirling inside
your eye’s azure iris;
nine, ten lifetimes
before. now, if only
this time, you could
tell me
your name?
— Heddy Edwards on July 20, 2020
Jónsi - Swill
“Swill,” one of the latest singles from Icelandic born singer and multi-instrumentalist Jónsi, is a bombastic and towering piece that feels both simultaneously familiar and foreign. Opening with a stark A.G. Cook produced mix of drums and horns, “Swill” sounds more like a new track from Cook collaborator Charli XCX than new content from the Sigur Rós frontman. However, once the rest of the instrumental settles in and Jónsi's wispy falsetto begins to deliver, familiar themes from the singer’s work begin to show. Lyrically, Jónsi is coming to terms with mistakes made in the past, “You say I did something wrong yesterday / You're right, of course, I'm making a fool of myself (In every way).” Though the almost bubblegum pop instrumental teeters on the edge of feeling out of place, there is still a billowing, orchestral vein running through it that tethers it to the singer. If the track does anything, it’s a sign that Jónsi is not only back, but he is again pushing the sonic boundaries in the most familiar way.
— Jonah Minnihan on July 20, 2020
Phoebe Bridgers - I Know the End
It's an elegant and brutal exclamation point to a poetic, all-encompassing album. The highly anticipated follow-up record to Stranger in the Alps possesses every quality that endeared the world to Phoebe Bridgers' original musicianship. Bridgers has an ability to effortlessly marry brooding emo rock and soft, heartfelt folk in her songwriting—making her a leading voice in modern-day alt music. "I Know the End" is particularly startling because of its chameleon nature. It's dreary and sweet, hard rock anthemic, and gritty emo at its finest. It's not that the song can't make up its mind. In fact, the track eloquently punctuates every theme and tone previously introduced earlier in the album. "I Know the End" is a thesis statement of Bridgers' discography, mood, and inner conflict. Its lyrics emphasize the primary wrestlings from Punisher's stand-out tracks including "Chinese Satellite" and "Garden Song," which include a longing to believe (or disbelieve) in a higher power, a weariness over our apocalyptic society, and the aching loneliness of nostalgia. The track lyrically and musically escalates to a chorus of voices scream-singing "The End is Here," which feels like the most freeing expression of feeling utterly helpless in a climate of chaos. "I Know the End" concludes with Bridgers literally screaming while the song erupts under her voice. It's off-putting, then moving, then heartbreaking. The song ends with Bridgers ASMR-style breathing into the mic, laughing, and gasping for a breath, which brings you back down to earth after having transcended to an intensely ethereal and depressive space. This track is a defining, honest glance at our unforgiving circumstances. It brings you to the conclusion that maybe hope is found in unflinchingly observing the messes we make, addressing them, and moving forward—not taking ourselves too seriously along the way.
— Hannah Lupas on July 20, 2020
Wingtip - Demons
Wingtip is the blissful project of Nick Perloff-Giles. His music is irresistibly hook-filled, but those hoping to dance themselves free of all anxiety and introspection won’t find that here—“Demons” has tender vulnerability at its core. The song explores feelings of uncertainty and insecurity, offering strength and comfort in the form of an addictive beat drop. The chorus is a plea to reveal the worst. Perloff-Giles sings, “Show me your demons, and I’ll show you mine.” It’s an earnest request over delightful pop production. “Demons” is a reminder that sharing our challenges is exactly what makes them bearable: “It’s hard to know where to begin, but it’s easier with someone." There’s hope in going through our most difficult moments with others—and definitely in dancing through them with this song.
— Siena Ballotta Garman on July 17, 2020
