"Juice," from PYNKIE's latest album #37, is an oasis for the lost hearts scared of falling too deep. Not only can NJ-based Lindsey Radice write a lo-fi dance ballad like very few, she can write, perform and co-produce an entire album of them and make it look easy. "Juice," which appears about halfway through the album, reflects upon a troubled relationship with dependency issues over a comforting lo-fi beat. While Radice sings, "Make me go home / Once in a while / Don’t let me stay all night / I don’t wanna fight," the song will have you feeling safe — maybe a perfect analogy to what keeps you coming back and back again to someone who makes you feel scared. That and the fact that the rest of life can be much more scary. PYNKIE's sophomore album #37 is out now, and it's full of sweet testaments of love and figuring the world out. Photo by Kelli McGuire.

If you’ve been to a lot of festivals, the first minute of “Echo Location” might sound familiar to you. You’re staking out the perfect spot for your favorite band of the day; you're hot, and your feet are tired. Anyway, you’re standing there, heartbroken because you’ve had to leave your second favorite band’s set fifteen minutes in, and now you can just make out the sound of them, 500 feet away, playing their best song. Meanwhile, back at the stage where your heroes will be in less than an hour, a very bored-looking person comes out and starts playing the drums. They will only ever be known to you as “Soundcheck Guy,” and it goes without saying that they are not much of a performer. Just like the drummer at the beginning of “Echo Location," they play the same simple drum beat over, and over, and over. There is nothing like the awkward, lonely, pre-anticipatory feeling of watching a soundcheck happen. 

Or so I thought until I heard the first minute of “Echo Location.” Helvetia is the now-Portland-based project of Jason Albertini. The group creates the kind of unpretentious experimental indie rock music that doesn’t seem to seek answers, and the beginning of this track from their new album This Devastating Map feels like the instrumental version of asking yourself a rhetorical question. Eventually though, the percussive inertia gives way to something stranger. Just over two minutes in, the guitar disintegrates into a series of acquiescent squeals, like a balloon very slowly losing air, or a jaded banshee ready for retirement. By this point in the track, you’ve almost certainly accepted that it’s instrumentals only, so when the vocals come in with a minute remaining, that is pretty disorienting too. Albertini’s vocal intonation has the same satisfying and self-aware smirk of a late 90s Isaac Brock. And as he sings cryptic, surprising things like, “This ambulance has echo location,” your mind turns again to "Soundcheck Guy." Maybe he's a performer after all; maybe there is beauty in the wait itself.

Nashville-based artist sweater boy tells the relatable tale of combating loneliness and not allowing yourself to fall into the cycle of a comfortable, yet toxic relationship on his latest release "i think i lost a friend." He sings lyrics that cut straight to the truth, “don’t know who I am / or how to let go / I think I should have said / I’d rather be dead than be alone. “i think i lost a friend” comes off of sweater boy’s (aka David Moran’s) debut EP, aptly titled i’d rather be dead than be alone. Co-produced by Moran and collaborator DËAN, this track is filled out by layered guitars and purposeful samples that create an indie-pop sound reminiscent of fellow Nashville-based band, COIN. Moran perfectly captures the vibe of this song when he says, “The lyrics, specifically, feel anthemic to me, switching from introspection to outrospection every verse and chorus. It plays well with the nostalgic, teenage, coming-of-age sunset movie scene that I constantly find myself chasing with every song.”

Bedroom soul artist cehryl sings on the innocent side of unrequited love on “Moon Eyes,” channeling the effortless sincerity of jazz standards of yore. “It’s about being abandoned, left to wonder,” she explains, “specifically, to wonder with a childlike optimistic naivety.” “Darling, you don't have to be so kind / To travel down all for my surprise / Darling, I'm covering my eyes / So I don't see you've gone a long, long, long time" she sings, melancholy longing lurking under her cheerful scatting. Those first few times you notice someone pulling away, it’s easier to tune out, feigning innocence to hold onto the slim chance of hope that they may return. cehryl returned to her native Hong Kong after her tours with Jeremy Zucker and Cavetown were put on indefinite hold due to Covid-19. Despite her worry that her roots in the music and arts community there weren’t as strong, she collaborated with Jonny Ho to craft a quirky video with snapshots of Hong Kong amidst the pandemic’s second wave.

—

you’ll pluck the glasses from my face 

to polish them without asking

we’ll put our own drinks down and wordlessly

pick up each others’ to try

i often substitute candy 

for meals and these days, i find myself 

choosing gummy bears more and more 

when we kissed goodbye you said,

“i’ll see you around”

“maybe”

“hopefully”

i’ve slept diagonally ever since.

In anticipation of Dent May's forthcoming record Late Checkout due out 8/21 via Carpark Records, the Los Angeles based pop master released his second single from the album, "Easier Said Than Done." Very much in Dent May fashion, he has constructed another groovy tune with an unforgettable melody, one you can't help but bop along to. Dent is joined by Andres Renteria (Weyes Blood) on percussion and Joachim Polack (Pearl & The Oysters) on keys. The music draws on Latin influences while Dent croons a simplistic tale of finding love after a long time coming. "It's easier said than done to fall in love / but finally it's happening to me." As the song comes to an end we recommend getting swept away in Dent May's funkadelic synth-pop breakdown. Keep your eyes peeled for more coming from Dent later this month!

“Sorry,” the latest single from beabadoobee’s forthcoming album Fake It Flowers, is a 90s inspired ballad featuring gorgeous string arrangements. At its core, the song is about what it means to confess to one’s wrongdoings in a relationship, and wondering how those mistakes will come to affect both parties involved. “...I’m doing alright and guess I’ve been feeling fine / But it hurts me / That you could be the one that deserves this / Even more,” the British-Filipino artist also known as Bea Kristi states earnestly, backed by an electric guitar. Halfway through the song, there is a sonic explosion, and the track takes on a rockier, gut-punching feel—a large departure from its simple, string adorned beginning. To start the second half of the song, she sings “I never want to think twice / With what could have been your life / And I’m sorry / I’m sorry.” An earnest, heartfelt apology, she acknowledges that she too has experienced bleak periods similar to the ones that the person she is addressing is currently living through: “...You stayed in the same dark place that I adore / But you stayed for more / I guess that’s what happens to the best of us.” Overall, “Sorry” is an exceptionally strong single that is bound to leave listeners asking the tough questions about themselves and the behaviors they have exhibited in relationships. Keep an eye out for Fake It Flowers, which is due to be released later this year, and listen to “Sorry” wherever you stream.

“Someone New” is Helena Deland’s commentary on the rhythm of the self and the infringing desire to find oneself reflected in the eyes of others. The slow-rising track stands as the title track of her first LP, which was recorded over the lapse of two years and can be expected in full come October.

There is a sort of elemental component to lending oneself to another person; to be seen in their eyes and to be rid of all control of the presentation of the self is an experience that carries its own celestial weight. In lending the image of the self to the hands of someone outside of the self, there is the opportunity for transformation, but not a solitudinous change; a reflection which absorbs an image of a person and transfigures it accordingly, in turn giving a lover a new image of themself.

In “Someone New” Helena Deland inspects the tendency that many have to seek out validation in the hearth of another. The fullness of her voice weaves through oscillating paces:

“If things go my way

I'll stay in this room

Where again I want to lay

Kissing someone new

Who tells me

Something pretty

So that I too

Can feel like someone new.”