SG Goodman’s new single “Old Time Feeling” is a roots-tinged indie rock ode to her homeland: the South. Goodman says she chose to record her upcoming album (of the same name) at Jim James’s La La Land Studios in Louisville, KY because it possessed three of her favorite things, “a creek, a big porch, and a kitchen,” probably the second most Southern thing I’ve ever heard—right below Beyoncé’s “I got hot sauce in my bag.” The guitar effects on this track are totally stellar and bear the clear watermark of Jim James’s sound circa My Morning Jacket: thick like Kentucky air, tones melting together like Blue Bell ice cream on a cake cone—and just as delicious. In the chorus, Goodman sets forth the track’s important central message: despite stereotypes, the South is “not living in that old time feeling” anymore; instead, it is on the crux of change, and change always comes out of healing old wounds. As André 3000 famously said at the 1995 Source Awards, “the South got something to say.” Twenty-five years later, SG Goodman is one of a diverse cast of talented independent artists continuing to prove him right.

After spending four months off the grid on the Sea of Cortez, Denver pop-duo Tennis have returned with “Runner,” a retro new jam off their upcoming album, SWIMMER, out Valentine’s Day 2020. Born from a guitar riff that was written and recorded in a fisherman’s cove where the musicians had just an acoustic guitar and drum sequencer, “Runner” is the first track Tennis wrote for the new album. Singer Alaina Moore’s sweet soprano voice soars above Patrick Riley’s catchy guitar hooks, synth filled melodies, and prominent drum beats that pulse steadily throughout the song. Congruent with the themes discussed in their 2017 LP Yours Conditionally, this romantic track delves into the disconnect between what Moore feels and what she believes she should be feeling given her faith. She sings, “Every little bead of sweat / Feel it running down my neck / When you look at me like that / Feeling like we can't go back / If I become a pillar of salt / I'll know that it was all my fault.”

The Districts can easily be seen as a welcome addition to the trend of Philadelphia indie rockers who play a little more noisily than their Brooklyn or LA contemporaries. They’re in good company with bands like Hop Along and Restorations, who shout over as many as three guitars at a time but use a brighter emotional palette than anger alone. “Hey Jo,” the first single from their upcoming album You Know I’m Not Going Anywhere, is a more delicate song, more coming-of-age than teenage angst. Singer Rob Grote explores his falsetto as he confronts bucked expectations, asking a friend, “How’s Los Angeles? Have you seen any stars? Does the sunshine get old?” Those opening questions are symbolic of the larger confusion within the song of, as Grote explains, “relationships unfurling amidst the dysphoria of the modern world.” “We are all imperfect products of the natural world,” he continues, “and more specifically, products of our own mind.” You can almost hear the strain in his voice, not accustomed to singing so high, so quietly or so tenderly, as he addresses his own internal struggles and tries “to be something more perfect, gentle, and beautiful.”

LA-based singer-songwriter Adam Melchor’s “I Choose You” proclaims an all-encompassing love. The song is an off-kilter, technicolor daydream for your ears—full of raucous voices. It wobbles through perfectly depicting the absent-mindedness that can accompany the obsession of new love as Melchor sings, “used to always say I was good with people’s names / now I’ve forgotten everyone’s and you’re to blame.” Produced by Ethan Gruska, Andrew Sarlo, and John Debold, the track is layered with elaborate sounds that never drown out Melchor’s sweetly melodic voice. Both the production and lyrics are a celebration of the knot in your stomach you feel when you like someone so much you can barely breathe or think whenever you're around them. Melchor leans into the idea that love is a game of chance, and finding your one person is as much luck as it is anything else, “I choose you / out of billions of people / we got it down to two.” ”I Choose You” rounds out a busy year for Melchor—having released his sophomore EP Plan On You in the spring followed by the single “Joyride” this fall.

Awash in softness, “To Philly” by Del Water Gap begins with gentle guitar strums, emotional vocals and simple, heartache-y lyrics. The simplicity is overwhelming, evoking so much while saying so little. "To Philly" sounds like a memory; lyric by lyric, pluck by pluck, the vocals melt together to tell a story of love, loss and something bittersweet. Though they start similarly, the single and music video diverge in sound; the track itself picks up, while the video stays soft and slow. As the drumbeat introduces itself, the song gains momentum and carries on with energy, before slowly coming to a close. The video, on the other hand, stays low throughout in a lovely way. The acoustic is strummed slower and the vocals are sung softer, as the music emerges with an aura of tenderness and intimacy. Strung together with snippets of footage, the home video layers the fleeting moments of life over the subtlety of the track, creating something altogether beautiful. Bask in the gorgeous croons of Del Water Gap at The Wild Honey Pie’s next NY dinner party, happening November 19 at Le Fanfare, and keep your ears open for his newest EP, Alive from Fresno out November 22 via Terrible Records.

After touring together this summer, Brooklyn’s No Vacation and Nashville’s Okey Dokey return with a collaborative shoegaze track called “Really Truly.” After Sab Mai (No Vacation) sets the stage over a sleepy bass-anchored groove, Aaron Martin (Okey Dokey) hooks you with his falsetto delivery of what turns out to be the track’s mantra: Now that everything’s faded, you figured it out. As the two groups continue to dip deeper into the groove they’ve built together, a call and response eventually leads into what sounds like the hypnotizing feeling of sitting in a 3 am subway train. Zooming beneath the East River on the way back to Brooklyn, the guitar riffs bring you in and out of a half-sleep. Lines from the tunnel lights flash at a steady 70 bpm. What a relief: the night went well. And in that timeless moment, the thing that’s been bugging you all week—you realize you figured it out.

Many beloved bands, from The Staves to The Wombats, have their roots in the Liverpool Institute for Performing Arts, a school founded by none other than Paul McCartney. Musicians from Norway, Ireland and Brazil met at the renowned institution to form All We Are, returning with their newest single, “L Is For Lose.” The track is described best by the director of its music video, Jack Whitely, who said that he “imagined a hot Miami night where the band plays characters caught up in an 80s crime love triangle, before the funk drops and they settle their differences on the dancefloor.” That seedy underbelly of a Tarantino universe meets tongue-in-cheek goofiness in the video, but also the sounds of the song itself. The backbone is an effortlessly funky groove, but All We Are takes painstaking efforts to scuff up that sheen with wordless yells and a test broadcast vocal breakdown, something The Flaming Lips might do to an Electric Guest beat.