Slow Dress is the Boston-based duo of Katie Solomon and Bredon Jones. Together they craft contemplative indie-folk songs. Their latest single, “Butterfly,” promises a life saturated with feeling. It is a commitment to experience everything fully, no matter how uncomfortable. “I don’t want to follow their feet. I want bare toes even in the snow and the sleet,” Solomon sings, dedicating herself to the necessary discomfort that comes with open awareness. Better frostbitten than oblivious, she insists. In a statement accompanying the release of “Butterfly,” the band wrote, “...it’s about watching people, especially those with money and privilege, close their hearts and minds to what is happening in the world.” The song illuminates the possibilities that emerge when we turn our focus outward. The butterfly in question isn’t taking flight; its body is fixed to the kitchen wall, like a pressed flower in a frame. “Admire,” Solomon urges, and for a moment, you pause to do just that. “Butterfly” is available for purchase and streaming, with half of all proceeds going to National Bail Out, Black & Pink, and mutual aid funds.

The dust has settled from Record Store Day 2019 and the cratediggers everywhere have made off with their scores, b-sides and rarities and reissues galore. Julien Baker’s contribution to the nationwide phenomenon was a pair of unreleased singles, including the haunting “Red Door,” finally released in digital format. The track features many hallmarks of Baker’s sound, like reverb-heavy electric guitar, booming atmospheric percussion, and a steady build, while also addressing the typical Julien Baker themes of fighting expectations, conflicting emotions and dealing with anger. Baker has long been praised for her emotional songwriting and pristine voice. Still, many critics—at least until seeing her play a face-melting solo in “Salt in the Wound” to close out her shows with fellow boygenius members Lucy Dacus and Phoebe Bridgers—have underrated her guitar playing. While her slow, contemplative style doesn’t often leave room to show off lightning-fast technical chops, she employs impressive guitar riffs here both expertly and tastefully. But where Baker truly shines is in finding beautiful imagery hidden in everyday scenes, notably when she describes herself as “pale as a flickering bulb outside of a liquor store.” Her ability to evoke an emotional response from an audience is due in part to that juxtaposition, creating a space where our most extraordinary feelings seem commonplace and acceptable.

Future Generations find a sweet positivity in love and hold onto it in their newest single “Try.” It is a sweetly stripped-down love song driven by a soothing melodic synth with rhythmic accents. The simplicity of the instrumental allows the message to take center stage as lead singer Eddie Gore sings, “your eyes make me try.” It’s an ode to a lover that focuses on one simple feature but obviously means so much more. The Brooklyn-based electro, indie pop band has a knack for feel-good songs perfect for summer, and “Try” is no exception. It’s hard not to be happy while listening to someone sing, “your eyes have made a scene/ I need to watch it all.” Sometimes it seems like all anyone sings about is sadness and heartbreak, but this track is optimistic. There is no underlying pain just pure love and adoration that seeps into you even if it’s just for three minutes. The song was put out as a double single along with the track “Spirit of My Youth.” These two songs are the group's first releases since the band’s LP Landscape, which came out in 2018.

With her sultry, soaring vocal on one of her latest tracks, "What If," Amber Mark lets us know that she understands the butterfly effect. The multifaceted artist speaks to the mistakes that have led her to love. The “what ifs” float away with the track’s effortlessly groovy, R&B-influenced production and inspire the kind of pulsing vibe that makes your entire body want to move. Mark shows off her range on this song, hitting notes all the way up in her whistle tone, pushing her into the club of vocally exceptional pop artists like Mariah Carey and Ariana Grande. Amber Mark is a massive artist to watch and seems to be one proper debut LP away from major limelight. Don’t sleep on her!

To grapple with contextualizing the dark cloud of uncertainty and existential anxiety hanging over our society is, it seems, to be an artist in 2019. It’s an attempt to cope, to suss out the myriad terrors of our times. “We stay inside our homes / we’re a face that never shows / and a light that never glows"—these are the first lyrics from Painted On, the nascent collaboration between Brooklyn’s Hillary Capps and Anthony Farina. “Fall,” is the duo’s debut single, a downtempo, brooding apologia to appeal to the better angels of our nature. Capps sings of a need for us to be our own light in the darkness. But towards the end of the song, as a beating war drum heaves climactic, Farina’s vocals enter into the fray, and he posits that the comfortable corner of darkness may be the best place to weigh it all out. By the time the coda hits, Capps sings the opening line one last time, and you’re led to wonder how much faith we should really have in ourselves.

If you forgot to do your part to fight the patriarchy this week, take a moment to listen to Miya Folick’s new single, “Malibu Barbie”—if you didn’t forget, still listen, you’ll probably enjoy it. “Malibu Barbie” is Folick’s first release since her debut album, Premonitions, dropped last October. The track is a delightful, glossy takedown of materialism and unrealistic ideals. The song opens with whispered vocals that detail a list of accessories in a tone that is borderline salacious. From there on, Folick picks apart a myth that is hammered into girls as soon as they’re old enough to own a doll: you’d be happier if you looked a certain way. Despite the heavy subject matter, “Malibu Barbie” is a sunny, pop anthem. Subtly sinister lines like, “nip it, tuck it ‘til I’m nothing” hide underneath a breezy, bubblegum pink guise that uses shimmering synths and grounding drums to keep you head-nodding along. The swirling bop goes head-to-head with oppressive, destructive beauty standards while Folick shows off the range of her powerful vocals. In the end, though, all of those glittery beats come to a screeching halt with Folick’s sardonic realization: “Oh no, I’m still a human being.” “Malibu Barbie” is a cautionary tale from a rebel with a cause, but Folick makes sure that it’s one you can still jam out to. Catch Miya Folick when she joins The Wild Honey Pie for a Dinner Party on June 24th.