Tim Atlas stays true to his DIY roots on “Cold Shoulder,” a lo-fi tune that questions what vulnerability is worth. Penned, produced and mixed entirely by Atlas, the single teases his upcoming third EP, which will be his first as a fresh signing to Nettwerk Records. The R&B-saturated pop track blends ever-so-slightly dissonant chords with an animated beat as Atlas comes to terms with the end of something ambiguous, perhaps not worth calling a relationship, that was doomed from the start. “Drinking in the basement / Sinking in my own self doubt” has Atlas asking himself if he was the fool all along for leaving himself unguarded, if a shoulder to lean on was really so much to ask. For me, I’ve all but forgotten how to talk to people this year, much less forge intimate connections in an already vulnerable state. I see myself “scroll the web just to feel closer” all the time, and feel Atlas’ regret in letting someone in. It's barely a whisper, the way Atlas distorts his voice to confess: “I wish you'd call just to say hi to me." “Cold Shoulder” perfectly encapsulates the ennui and introspection that so characterizes bedroom pop.

Montreal-born Love Mansuy looks inward on “I’ll Be There,” an earnest commitment to endlessly support his young son Carter. Mansuy, who did not have a relationship with his own father until recently, chose to feature Carter’s voice on the track. Whether it’s when “there’s ketchup in ya hair” or “ya in a padded cell,” Mansuy promises simply, “I’ll be there.” Vulnerability poses a challenge among men and especially in BIPOC communities. Mansuy depicts it beautifully both in the song and its accompanying video, which he intended to “reflect on not only the need for Black men to show up for their sons, but the need for Black men to be there for Black women.” In the video, protest footage airs as a mother braids her daughter’s hair, and reminds us that the emotional toll of this constant exposure is often forgotten amidst charged protesting and calls for legal reform. As we’re all looking for ways to continue showing up for the Black community, I invite you to consider donating to Black Emotional and Mental Health Collective, which advocates for increased accessibility to emotional and mental healing for the Black community through methods ranging from therapy to the arts.

Revolution comes in all shapes and sizes. Even though it should inspire others to join, it often scares people on the sidelines. What’s scary is to be revolutionary, to speak your truth to power, to give people the opportunity to turn a blind eye to your own experience, and to tell you that you’re wrong. Ayoni released her truth, “Unmoved (A Black Woman Truth),” offering peace, knowledge, and even a reality check for those who are truly listening. For Black women, it is the reiteration of the struggle they’ve always faced, brought to them in a vessel that allows for them to feel at peace. For Non-Black people, it provides a lesson in the Black experience and how the fight for Black lives is not new, as Ayoni sings, “It’s always been bigger than this.” Lastly, it is a call to action for the people who are listening and a wake-up call for the ones who aren’t. 

“Unmoved (A Black Woman Truth)” is the battle cry of the revolution both sonically and lyrically. The song begins softly with the strumming of an acoustic guitar, Ayoni’s vocal then coming into play creating a shift that pulls you in. As the song progresses, the layering and tone of her voice symbolize the frustration and anger that ebbs and flows when trying to reason with ignorance. Ayoni sings, “Are you sitting comfortably while we bleed in vain? / I’ve died by other names,” calling attention to the countless Black women who have died unnecessarily. She continues, “Please make me feel you care my ally / But are you prepared to lose your sleep / To bare your teeth / To break like me?” She is calling on us to not only reflect but to educate ourselves and put in the work. Ayoni spoke her truth to power. Now it is up to us to listen.

Denmark-based duo Moon Panda have clearly done their homework, and the result of their focused vision is “Slow Drive,” a track as peaceful and centering as its namesake. The bright, scattered tones in the song’s first moments are soon enveloped in a chillwave: we see a washed-out scene of a beach house (or other seaside real estate) at sunset. Californian-born Maddy Myers paints the warming ocean as only a Californian can, digging into the sand with her deep and subtle soprano. Meanwhile, her lyrics could not fit the blurry guitar-driven ambiance any better—in fact, they could even double as a poetic review of the track itself: “I close both my eyes now, try to feel the breeze. The calm washes over me. I heal on my own.” My thoughts exactly.

Moon Panda’s new Make Well EP was released on Bandcamp and other streaming platforms on July 13.

snny’s “Postmodern Black," the latest single from the dizzyingly dynamic new artist, is incredibly crafted. It’s a work of art. The production is slick and tight, still managing to attain some dreamy space thanks to snny’s gorgeous vocals—juxtaposed with a grimy, overdriven synth hit irregular heartbeat. Not only is it masterfully made, but it's also gloriously fun to listen to. It’s a modern electronic bop given a stylish, timeless shot to the heart with some Nile Rodgers-esque guitar (think “Get Lucky” or “Le Freak”). snny expresses himself with an easy confidence, with lyrics like “I walk the streets, I run my world, I climb so high because it calms me down”—with every introspective line, he's further establishing himself as a solid voice to watch. “Postmodern Black” may be the perfect soundtrack to these warmer months, but lucky for us, it’s so much more than just another summer jam, which feels appropriate. After all, isn’t this so much more than just another summer?

Jordana’s debut EP, Something To Say, was released on Bandcamp on July 31, and “Forgetter” acts as its sixth and final statement. In this ruminative track, it feels like the laws of relativity have transcended physics and come to govern emotions as well. When your car starts moving forward and you aren’t expecting it, you might think for a moment that the entire world is moving backwards. “Forgetter” captures Jordana processing her feelings after she’s been disoriented by the emotional law of relativity: when someone else is acting distant, but you think you’re the one who is moving farther away. It’s a disorienting experience at first, like there’s something you’re forgetting. But then your mind snaps into focus and you realize you’ve been standing still the whole time. 

The musical elements of the song anchor the overall mood in a space of self-reflection. Jordana’s conversational, almost stream-of-consciousness vocal delivery aptly conveys her attempted calm as it gives way to slight desperation. And while the lyrics are written in first and second person, the moody Death Cab-style bass and guitar seem to signal that there is only one side to this conversation. We are witnessing a person swimming in her own head, rehearsing her side of an important conversation. In the chorus, Jordana sings “I just want to feel better; I want all of these thoughts just to mellow out.” But she knows it’s just a matter of time before she comes down from this anxious moment. Sometimes time is the best antidote when space eludes you.