"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.

With her latest single, “Feminist Gf,” San Francisco singer-songwriter Samantha Margret has evolved into a sharpened power, in both production and lyricism. This is a track that begs to be listened to on hi-fi headphones — with creeping touches like soft, panned tapping-fingers-on-drums at the onset, a bass that thumps in your chest and the endlessly creative mixing of Samantha’s clear vocals, the singular energy of Billie Eilish comes to mind, paired with the endearing personal touches of Taylor Swift’s best lyrics — all still with a style that is distinctly Samantha’s. With her prior release, “Emotional,” she took on the patriarchy in a more playful tone, but the Samantha we hear on “Feminist Gf” has stepped forward, teeth bared, to usher the offending misogynist into a new era (her line "You've got a feminist girlfriend, like that makes you excused" could cut with a knife). Songs like Swift’s “You Belong With Me” may have made some of us feel comforted back in the early 2000’s that didn’t squarely fit into a traditional feminine narrative, but as feminism has evolved to be intersectional and inclusive, “Feminist Gf” deserves a place among the girl-power tracks we need now. Rather than against each other, Samantha unifies femininity of all types and expressions to focus where it counts.

“Postcard from Spain” is the stunning lead single from Canadian producer Ryan Hemsworth’s new project, Quarter-Life Crisis. This track blazes with post-modern complexity and profound artistry — but considering it features lyrics and vocals from the insanely talented Frances Quinlan of Hop Along, we would expect nothing less. Known for her quizzically insightful lyrics and searing vocals, Quinlan was tasked with writing the lyrics and vocal melody for an instrumental track Hemsworth had previously recorded. The finished product is a beautiful sonic tale that recounts one character’s muse-inducing trip to Spain. The track features overlapping layers of both electronica and modern rock, which, like Quinlan’s lyrics, contribute to complementary sonic tones that are fragmented but undeniably intertwined. 

Quinlan is one of several artists that Hemsworth will be collaborating with in his upcoming project. The full Quarter-Life Crisis EP is set to be released on December 4 by Saddle Creek.

As summer has faded to fall, and we all long for warmer days, Jordan Hawkins is here with a lifeline. Reminiscing on a sunny love, the song is full of so much heart. Instantly the production welcomes you into its arms, seemingly sitting in the sand as the sun sets. Hawkins arrives with the vocals and lyricism to match the mood. Visions of perfect moments at the beach embody Hawkins’ writing, revealing a desire to rekindle romance with a past flame, bringing those moments to life. The song’s chorus feels entirely relatable and chock-full of earnest desire. Hawkins’ undeniable smooth tone sets you at ease as you feel yourself dissolve into this daydream. And that’s what holds your ear — the incredible performance from Hawkins himself. There’s strength in his earnestness, giving more power to the grit, more assurance to the smooth, and such a visceral longing love when he steps into a higher register. There is such variety in his delivery, yet Hawkins navigates the shifts effortlessly. As a listener you can just float right alongside, enjoying every moment. It seems like every choice on this song was after that same mission, an effort to make this song feel like easy love: vibey percussion, beautiful waves of trumpets, dreamy chords, a warm bass to hold it together, subtle harmonies, the trumpet and guitar solo. It’s all there. Photo by Kiyo Vigliotti.

knees hiked to my chest in the corner booth
of some midtown sports bar, I watch it end
with an Old Fashioned clutched close to my body.

I never did get used to the fact that sometimes
you kissed me just because you felt like it
shameless as always.

—

Chicago-based quartet Slow Pulp's “Trade It” sits between slowcore and shoegaze, guitar-driven and melancholic, emo at heart. Hurt is palpable in lead singer Emily Massey’s plaintive “Am I all that you wanted?” A cathartic shift highlights a synth lilt that yearns to trade everything in to start over. “It’s all that I’m asking,” she sings, and it shouldn’t be so much to ask, but is somehow everything. A twisted sense of nostalgia sits deep in my stomach, searching for certain sadness, someone who has long escaped me. I don’t miss them, but this song almost makes me wish I did. The track comes from the band's self-produced debut record, Moveys. In a statement, Slow Pulp describe Moveys as the manifestation of their dealings with “health challenges, personal upheaval and a pandemic, all while learning how to be better songwriters and friends.” Photo by Alec Basse.

I kept thinking I’d buy a weighted blanket,
kept using you for body heat instead, before 
and after the Everlane coat that lives on the floor
and the draft-stopping plastic on my windows

though if ever I asked, I always had you

for the cost of three happy hour drinks,
the cab home and quarters for the dryer 
to wash my sheets after you left.

—

TALIA’s vivid track “colder” lives in perpetual homesickness for a person who might’ve never been real with you to begin. Her first release on Quadio Records strays from her folk, strings-driven single “Shiver,” trading in her acoustic guitar for atmospheric synths and echoes. She crafts a cinematic quality to the otherwise minimalist bedroom pop soundscape we know, the song swelling as though these sounds can take her away, drown out the loneliness. “I get stronger everyday, but I’m still hurting,” she wallows over a weeping piano. Though lofty in its production, “colder” stays grounded in TALIA’s visceral pain; her voice swirls and soars, yearning to be distant but ultimately tied to those memories, wondering but never knowing if one change could have made all the difference. Photo by 70mm_.