The new EP from LA-based Scarypoolparty (solo project of Alejandro Aranda), Doom Hologram, opens with “Return2Sender”—the first of an eight-track story, meant to be played in order. Lingering just under five minutes, “Return2Sender” encapsulates the feeling of watching raindrops roll down the window, as golden candlelight flickers and once-fresh flowers on the table slowly wither away. Throughout the ethereal track, the scent of broken promises is as fragrant as wilting roses, leaving the listener to once again taste the words they wish they’d said to someone (“You take my words and break me down / I wrote you letters just to say ‘I love you’ / And now I know that you would tear them all apart”). The track allows Aranda, an American Idol alum, to flex his pop sensibilities and brings to mind the exact inspirations referenced in the release’s press statement—that he “channels the prodigious dexterity of John Mayer overlaid with the ethereal pop of The 1975.” Aranda’s hurt is undeniably palpable, and this candor is the heartbeat that drives the song through its melodic turns and an aching acoustic interlude. But, as great art is so often made, Aranda turned heartache into a glowing and visceral connection with his listeners — and one they won’t soon forget. Photo by Nicole Busch.

Snail Mail's debut EP Habit was re-released on Spotify last week, featuring a cover of Courtney Love's "2nd Most Beautiful Girl In the World." Rereleasing Habit might almost seem inessential, considering that the 20-year-old indie rocker has been making crashing waves in the female-led tide of melancholia rock in recent years. A pluckier and spunkier Phoebe Bridgers or Liza Anne, Snail Mail holds her own as a rock authority. Studying guitar from a young age, Jordan released Habit at the age of 16. Though a few years younger than the other artists mentioned prior, her music is as mature as it is listenable (and it's frankly fantastic). Lush, her first full-length album and sophomore release, claims your attention from start to finish without it ever feeling like the artist is trying hard to do so. Track-by-track, Snail Mail is unstoppable. I can't wait to hear more from this artist.

Kaycie Satterfield is a lot of things: a curly blonde, an indie darling, an all-around badass, but most of all, a rock'n'roller. Her latest release, "Women's Fiction," which premiered today, is everything we love about evocative, female punk(ish) rock: it's melodic, lyrically driven and honest as hell. While her vocals are very reminiscent of Canada's indie sweetheart Alvvays, her musicality is less silky and more brash and garage rock, like Snail Mail or Soccer Mommy. "Women's Fiction" addresses an undeniable and poignant feminist dilemma: "I don't need you to listen to me, but I really want you to" (i.e. "I keep telling my stories and begging someone to listen"). It's a tough balance, empowering yourself AND being vulnerable enough to admit that you don't feel powerful all the time. But Satterfield seems to strike this balance beautifully through the texture and phrasing of this song. It's a headbanger that makes you stop and consider your own desperation, insecurity and listening skills, and that's all us weirdos are ever really seeking from indie rock.

“Jukebox Cutie” is the soundtrack to a daydream. Victoria, British Columbia’s Bridal Party, helmed by the collaborative songwriting pair of Suzannah Raudaschl and Joseph Leroux, has been blessing the provinces with their soulful summer jangle since 2015’s Hot Daze EP, but their debut album, Too Much, is finally due out August 23rd. The second single, “Jukebox Cutie,” follows the imagination of the lovestruck Leroux as he thinks up the life inhabited by the enchanting person requesting classics from the DJ. The nonchalant airiness of the arrangement hides how meticulous the singer’s thoughts are, allowing an offhand comment to spark a whole world of imagined possibility. “He says that you sing / And when you do are you an alto?” wonders Leroux. “Jukebox cutie hanging around / Silver necklace in her mouth,” he sings, noticing the tiniest details. The ending of this love story isn’t particularly important, and Bridal Party leaves the question open with a beautiful instrumental vamp right where a resolution might go—choosing instead to focus on the endless possibility that comes before.

Eric D. Johnson, one-time member of The Shins and current member of the supergroup Bonny Light Horseman with Anais Mitchell, has been at it for more than 20 years under his Fruit Bats moniker, and Gold Past Life may be his finest work yet. The new album largely adds his characteristic funky edge to his folk-rock influences, but “Ocean” is the soothing acoustic product of a seasoned songwriter. A love song that could soundtrack the closing scene of even the most heartfelt Scrubs episode, the track opens with a delightful hammer-on riff reminiscent of Vampire Weekend’s “Harmony Hall” as Johnson recognizes his immaturity, that he’s “still waiting around for some mystical shift in the winds.” Johnson was quick to admit that “Ocean” is a sappy song dedicated to a love that helped him grow up but its heart is so big that its authenticity is never called into question. The song is littered with pleasant little nuggets—surprising chord changes and his momentary lapse into falsetto as he sings the title lyric, to name a few—like pearls in the ocean.

Singer-songwriter Noah Gundersen touches on life’s impermanence in his newest single “Robin Williams.” The Seattle artist makes a return to his folk roots with a nod to the alt-rock sound of his last album White Noise—combining sentimentality with tasteful production. The simplicity of the instrumentals allows the focus to land on the message that “nothing lasts forever / and every other trope.” It leads with buzzing electric guitar, creating an atmosphere before paring down to just an acoustic guitar and Gundersen’s signature ardent vocals. “Robin Williams” is about love, life, and the difficulty of making art in a consumerist society ending with the self-aware and almost dismissive line “Who the hell are we fooling / no one buys records anymore.” The track is the first single from his upcoming fourth solo album Lover due out via Cooking Vinyl on August 28.

Grady Wenrich aka Grady is one of indie rock’s most lovable goofballs, and unabashedly so. His onstage dance moves and hair flips do nothing to distract from his clever lyrics and thoughtful composition, but instead, highlight just how much he loves his craft. Known to fans of Nashville-based band The Lonely Biscuits as the charismatic frontman with a penchant for Modest Mouse-inspired guitar lines and a sing-spoken hip-hop cadence, Grady’s recent move to Los Angeles saw him shift his focus to a solo project. His most recent single, “Lemon Sun,” is a windows-down, last-day-of-class summer jam with all of the existential uncertainty fans have come to expect. Recorded to a tape machine once owned by the founder of the legendary punk-rock club CBGB and discovered at a garage sale for pennies, the song has a glimmering retro fidelity and features guest vocals and guitar work from The Wild Reeds’ Mackenzie Howe. Together, in life as in music, the two of them navigate “this confusing, scary, dumb place under the perfect lemon sun.” It just takes support, perspective, and a little sunlight.

Soaked in reverb and nostalgia, “Two Babies in Michigan” is the moving closing track on Fruit Bats’ eighth full-length, Gold Past Life. After nearly 20 years in music, frontman and writer Eric D. Johnson wrote this album as a rumination on the “autumn of his years” by looking back fondly on life’s most intimate moments—the good, the bad, the bittersweet—and capturing those feelings like snapshots in a collection of unique and resoundingly hopeful arrangements. With reminiscent lyrics, the synth-pop ballad “Two Babies in Michigan” basks in Johnson’s childhood in Michigan through a message to his sister. “Oh sister, do you remember that time / When we were lined up waiting for the waterslide / Swollen clouds and airplanes in the sky?” The soothing arrangement, undeniably melancholic in theme, shows its beauty in small moments of reverie: the warm strum of the acoustic guitar, or the soft but persistent strings in the back of the chorus. Johnson’s distinctly high vocals are as strong and emotive as ever, reflecting the wisdom of the ages while basking unabashedly in the wide-eyed innocence and optimism of childhood. Bleak and beautiful, “Two Babies in Michigan” is a gripping portrayal of age and imminence that will stand the test of time.