Follow along this week as singer/songwriter Shamir walks us through notable tracks from his expansive DIY genre-blending discography. Don't miss your chance to meet Shamir in Brooklyn at Full Bloom, our latest food, beverage and music event in collaboration with Strainge Beast Hard Kombucha, on June 25.

"This song isn't one of my personal favorites, but I get why it's a crowd favorite. It's a good practice in all the things people love about pop music, and I found a way to filter it through my DIY sensibilities and cathartic and personal songwriting. Finding strength in solitude is a very hard, but powerful thing!" — Shamir

The latest single from Charlottesville, VA trio Stray Fossa lays the drums and effects on heavy for an atmospheric and propulsive track from their forthcoming debut album With You For Ever. "Orange Days" bends genres as it goes; one can hear dashes of new wave and psychedelic amidst its dream pop landscape. Fans of Tame Impala will appreciate the phaser-laden guitars and ample reverb that recalls Tame’s beloved Lonerism. Over the booming and uptempo drum beat, singer Will Evans anxiously ponders the future. “My sun'll rise, and I know it's not much longer now,” he sings. “Somewhere begins a future, a stranger to ourselves.” The uncertainty of the lyrics, often delivered in spectral layers, mixes with a soundscape that likewise expresses a sense of unease as guitar and bass lines take unexpected turns. The end result is a song that successfully merges genres and sounds to a haunting and head-banging effect. Photo by Anita Richardson. 

On "Paper in the Sky," Australian singer-songwriter Portair challenges convention in the details: a pattering hollow drum, strings suspended in water, full piano chords that draw contrast against his delicate vocals. While these sounds are unique and lush, Portair balances more inquisitive elements with a foot-stomping folk backbone that gives the track its homey, comforting sensibility. Laced with childhood nostalgia, "Paper in the Sky" calls to mind the adventures on which our youthful imaginations used to take us. Concrete images of raindrop races on car windows and model trains evoke visceral memories of a time when things were much simpler, when it didn't seem so difficult to find simple joy or excitement in the world. But instead of dwelling on innocence lost, Portair seeks to reclaim it; sending off all the most structured, restrictive and harrowing parts of the reality we know into a symbolic paper plane, there's nothing left but to "watch the paper in the sky float." Photo by Ashley Osborn. 

Kylie V’s "Natural" twirls and dances around intimacy in a way so earnest and honest, it almost breaks your heart. Their voice drops words like pebbles in a pond, rippling out before sinking in deep and out of sight. “I’m not a provider, I just wanna feed you,” they sing. The hook delicately touches on one of the most beautiful and intangible parts of love. It’s so enigmatic. Love never demands you to be anything but what you are; however, it often asks you, politely but insistently, to keep growing. It doesn’t shrink behind insecurity, even though you might. Love delights in vulnerability, taking in as eagerly as it gives. It’s strong and intimidating, and it takes time to learn how to conduct it. "Natural" sits right at the heart of that feeling, overwhelmed by the impulse to keep one hand held tight, and the other grounded on a door handle. Rhythm guitar lines ebb and flow as the lyrics tug between the fear of feeding someone else until you’re empty and the fear of letting them feed you back. The fear that you’ll take too long to get it right tends to linger at the back of your throat like something sweet and burnt. But you love them so much that of course you would try to figure out how to love them best. It’s almost too much to consider how you would begin to trust them to do the same for you, though. It feels safer to let yourself get wrapped up in the tide of feelings you’re experiencing, ready to climb out of the river when the current pushes you back to the banks. It’s a heart-wrenching feeling, but a delightful taste of what’s to come with Kylie V’s debut album, Big Blue, due February 28th. Photo by Lauren Ray.

A soft strummed acoustic guitar introduces “Find You," the beautiful brand new single from The Heatlamps. Released on Valentine’s Day, this tender song serves as a meditation on the hope of finding and finally being with an ever-elusive love. 

The verses build slowly as arpeggiated guitars and solemn-sounding piano chords express a feeling of longing. However, this is beautifully juxtaposed with a sense of trusting that things will eventually fall into place, even if a little patience is required. The L.A. duo, consisting of Bo Jacobson and Louis Weeks, capture these conflicting emotions in a captivating manner as they sing “Maybe someday we won’t be waiting for another tomorrow / It’ll be our time," followed by “Show me the way / All I wanna do is find you." The song ends with an angelic swirl of noise made by guitars, pianos, synths and ghostly vocals, bringing it all to a reassuring conclusion.

Whether you are alone and looking for someone, you’ve found the one or aren’t really interested, this song will definitely get you in your feelings.

If there ever was a musical work to express the moment when now-Vice President Kamala Harris told Mike Pence, “I’m speaking,” through her charming smile, “Persephone” is it. The new single from Brooklyn indie-pop duo Daisy the Great addresses the shared frustration of women everywhere: the societal pressure to be demure and keep quiet.

Folklore has long warned men of the siren’s sinister song: once she opens her beautiful mouth, destruction will follow. Not much has changed, as the likes of Greta Thunberg or Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez and many others could attest. “The plight of the siren is / She'll never sing without somebody claiming she's starting a war,” sing Kelley Nicole Dugan and Mina Walker, with a crescendoing intensity, as though both suppressing a growl. Sonically, “Persephone” mirrors the nature of the message itself: beneath its angelic exterior is something more substantial—and potentially dangerous. Words like “menace,” “temptress" and “whore” appear in the lyrics, words that are widely used in lieu of “powerful” when describing a woman. Persephone, goddess queen of the underworld, is but a symbol to shine a light on centuries of patriarchal storytelling warning “virtuous” young boys against the perils of a woman who doesn’t stay in her lane. 

In the accompanying music video, dancer/choreographer Matilda Sakamoto portrays the siren’s plight in the form of a sweet-looking young woman, smashing eggs and smearing makeup on her face, appearing increasingly frightening and insane. Towards the end, she stares into the camera and flashes a warning snarl, while the lyrics deliver their closing statement: “The plight of the siren is / Everyone's always been / Scared of a powerful woman.” Photo by Sara Laufer.