"These Kids We Knew," the latest single from ROSTAM, addresses climate change with an assertive, but hopeful hand. Lushly produced simple strums are a warm background for the contrastingly harrowing subject matter. Written while Rostam was recovering from Covid-19 last March, the song chronicles Gen-Z putting an older generation on metaphorical trial in "sidewalk courts" for the state in which they've left the Earth's climate. We see the lasting effects already with what's going on in Texas as we speak, unprepared for the temperatures they are now withstanding. It's not a far-off future that Rostam conceptualizes in this track, so with young activists like Greta Thunberg and Leah Thomas as key leaders in the climate revolution, change may still be on the horizon. Rostam's hopeful outlook might inspire that generation to believe that it's not too late to hold these harbingers of destruction accountable for their part in causing this crisis. You'd just have to wait for them to get back from Cancún first. Photo by Olivia Bee. 

Seeped in technicolor and emerging from a dream, CASTLEBEAT’s latest single “TI-83” perfectly captures the ambiance of this year’s bummer summer. The track’s lo-fi harmonies are gorgeously laced with psychedelic flares, drawing our attention inward and leaving us in a state of submerged tranquility.

“TI-83” miraculously resurfaces the reveries we likely forgot existed sitting in stiff classroom desks, pretending to think about calculus yet undoubtedly fooling no one. The song’s accompanying music video not only enhances its temporal fluidity, but provides an aesthetic picture show that any film buff is sure to appreciate.

"Falling Apart" by Slow Pulp is the song equivalent of a weighted blanket, providing warmth and comfort when you need it. Violins and soft vocals surround you, wrapping you up in compassion, understanding and paradoxically major harmonies. You’re not alone. You’re not the only one periodically dissociated on the couch at 4 am, worrying if depression might always be lapping at your feet like a high tide. It takes a lot to resist the comfort of familiarity when you’re feeling so vulnerable, so it’s okay to settle for wrapping up in your hoodie instead of that familiar feeling. Tender melodic whispers coax your thoughts into daylight. Learning how to be compassionate to yourself is hard, and questioning the value of perseverance in something that doesn’t feel rewarding is natural. Self-sabotage is almost a talent, so “why don’t you go back to falling apart?” The implicit answer is “Because it sucked, and I’ve worked so hard to get where I am." It’s not always a satisfying answer, but at least you’re not alone. You’ve got Slow Pulp’s sweet harmonies to keep you company, and—when you can move past having to seem alright—several loving friends too.

Eastern Souvenirs is spearheaded by singer-songwriter and producer Brian Fisher, who recently brought the project from the West Coast to the East. While their hazy summer sound is heavily nostalgic, inspired largely by the garage and surf rock of the 1960s, “No One Else” is a song about being somewhere new. A lo-fi surf rock love song for the ages, “No One Else” was the first song Fisher wrote after his move from Seattle to Boston last year. The song delves into the flurry of feelings that come with being in a new place, both physically and emotionally, and explores how distant the past can seem when suddenly a new future emerges on the horizon. Remarkably easy listening, Eastern Souvenirs would make a great soundtrack for your next day trip to the beach—windows down, sun shining, waves crashing, and those slow, sweet guitar riffs accompanied by Fisher’s soothing vocals. Eastern Souvenirs has set a virtual record release for their upcoming album Only for a Time set to stream on August 28.

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!