On “Reaper,” a song off their recently released album Mirage on the Meadow, Pine Barons combine psychedelic instrumentals and vivid lyrical imagery to deliver a haunting track that truly rocks; perfect listening for this, the spookiest of seasons. The tone is firmly established within the first few seconds, as a series of long atmospheric tones from the synth drape themselves over the drum and guitar lines. Before the lyrics come in you have already been set on a meandering walk through the dark forest in your mind. 

Songwriter and vocalist Keith Abrams cleverly illustrates the concept of scattered thoughts in the pre-chorus where, utilizing different production effects, he plays two intertwining inner monologues: one perpetually questioning, and one confident in its defeatist statements but not offering any answers. From this back and forth bursts the hook, which delivers everything you could ask for in a great rock chorus. It’s melodic, it’s powerful and it stays with you long after the song has ended. For much of “Reaper” there is an expertly curated sense of movement, like some physical manifestation of inner anxieties is stalking you at a distance. The closing guitar solo and coda, which layer in melodic callbacks from earlier sections, bring about a feeling of envelopment, like that fog of fear has finally caught up and engulfed you. Photo by Chris Sikich.

Afro Comb is an alternative hip-hop duo from North London. Motivated by their drive to represent their stories, Afro Comb unabashedly addresses social and societal strife within their music. Ciara Naomi and Denzel Nonso are friends turned soulmates that use their platform to generate music that propels and supports each other's styles and vocalizations, along with expressing genuine representations of their hopes and fears in navigating the music industry. 

In a period of deep political unrest and injustice, there might not be a more appropriate time than now to listen to "Faith?". In an interview with Tapped Brooklyn, Nonso described his personal inspiration this way: "At the root of every sound, is a black musician. The soul and power from our ancestors are what drives me. I would advise people to start reading and actively seeking knowledge to empower themselves."

Afro Comb combines soulful artistry with razor-sharp political commentary. "Faith?" in particular holds an urgency that's worthy of everyone's attention. "Oppression leads to anger, that's a fact" is a poignant pull-quote from "Faith? In the Tapped Brooklyn interview, Nonso later went on to say, "When it comes to music, we want our words to be relevant in 20 years and for it to still resonate with future generations." Afro Comb is an emerging London band to watch. Their influence certainly won't go unnoticed. Listen to "Faith?" wherever you stream.

Nike Vendela must be a mermaid. “Pull me in,” she begs in her impressive debut single, but her siren voice will pull you in—like a sailor to a lovely, watery death. The track dives headfirst into an underwater dreamscape, complete with warbly, atmospheric guitars. Vendela’s lyrics are ambiguous enough to leave open to interpretation, but consider she just might be assuming Madison’s perspective from the classic 80s sea creature fantasy Splash: “Can you hold me up / While I climb these city walls and concrete halls / Pull me in / Make me feel like I’m dreaming / Write me a lullaby / So I can learn how to fly again.” While the term “overnight sensation” is usually problematic, it does seem like the ethereal singer/songwriter came out of nowhere. Now based in New York, the Swedish native boasts no YouTube videos, barely any biographical information, and her Facebook page has only one post past 2015—and it’s her only announcement about the new song. Surely this intoxicating talent has been putting in some major work behind the scenes, but I prefer to believe she recently emerged from the deep beyond after shaking fins with a sea witch.

"Honey Jar" by Kevin Herig is a mellow funk existential crisis. Well, perhaps not a crisis as much as an inner meditation on who you are and where you’re putting your energy. Bass and guitar lines gently sway through slides and circular melodies that conjure the feeling of floating in an ocean wave. Herig’s voice floats above it all, ebbing and flowing between anxiety and serenity. The lyrics wrestle with uncertainty centered around a single focal question that gives the track its name; “We conquer and divide, and when the honey jar is dry, what’s left to taste?" Like any good line, it could mean a number of things. To me, a chronically ambitious person with many eggs in many baskets at any given time, it’s a call to think about where you’re investing your energy. It cuts to the core of an internal discussion that’s healthy, albeit painful, to initiate sometimes. Are you where you want to be? Is your destination on the same path you’re on now, or is it a different one? No one can answer that for you, but maybe listening to "Honey Jar" on repeat will help you think about it.

"These Things In My Head" by Baybs proves from the first note to adhere to a so-called "tried and true," radio-friendly formula, and this is absolutely not a bad thing! The bouncy tune immediately conjures reminders of an early 2010's radio staple, like a track from Bastille, or then-college radio darlings Dawes and their early tune "Someone Will." Baybs vocalist Craig Jacobs' voice completes the nostalgic radio trifecta, with a hint of Marcus Mumford-esce vocal stylings thrown in for good measure.

Some could consider the duo's mastering of subconsciously knowing what type of sound works for radio, a victory so early in their career. "These Things In My Head", from Text Me Records,  is only the fourth release from the twosome, and it perfectly does what its title seems to loosely promise; it will become one of the 'things' slowly revolving in your head by the third or fourth listen. Jacobs and his partner Melissa Russi's harmonic vocals blend together nicely under a danceable drum beat. What's better than a catchy tune with a groove?

Growing up with ardent Catholicism as an integral part of my identity meant repressing my bisexuality any way that I could. How does it feel to admit that you are the contradiction of what you were taught to believe? It's a question Becca Mancari asks on "First Time," her coming out story. Mancari comes from a fundamentalist Christian household, her father a pastor. It's a heavy hit from the get-go, Mancari singing, "I remember the first time my dad didn't hug me back." Unraveling the bandages from her emotional wounds to write the track wasn't easy, but she notes, "as soon as the first line of the song came out of me, I knew there was no going back." The wistful song is one that I wish I'd had at fifteen when I struggled to lend myself an ounce of kindness, unable to live my truth. "Hey, did you find your way out?" Mancari asks over a homespun country folk-style plucking that harkens back to her Nashville roots. For me, the song reads like a love letter to my younger self from someone who found happiness on the other side. On the track, Mancari says, "My hope is that when you hear this song you feel less alone, and that you do indeed find your way out." "First Time" is the second single from The Greatest Part, her sophomore record coming June 26 via Captured Tracks. We're hopeful Mancari will be able to tour with her Bermuda Triangle bandmate Brittany Howard this fall.