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.

Angel Olsen’s “(New Love) Cassette” is a gorgeous rumination on the feelings one experiences when starting a new relationship. Her haunting, emotive vocals, drenched in reverb, convey longing in the midst of limerence. “I’m gonna show you love all of the time / Gonna be your breath when you’re out of life / Love / Free / Take / Me,” she sings earnestly. The simple arrangement—the version on the album Whole New Mess is stripped back guitar/voice vs. the lush, full version featured on 2019’s All Mirrors—is striking and heartbreakingly honest. This song is the perfect balance of bittersweet and nostalgic—a tune for anyone missing the dreamy and unraveling emotions that come with falling in love with someone new. Listen wherever you stream. Photo by Kylie Coutts.

Boston-based singer-songwriter Anjimile reckons with ways their demons have caused hurt to a lover on “Baby No More," a modernized bossa nova tune more harmoniously balanced than the relationship itself. "Scary / What I done and might do," they open, a fragile moment of self-awareness, yet inability to stop themselves from doing more damage. Referring to themselves as "King Heartbreaker," their lightly rasped vocals send a simple message, the only fitting end for a doomed relationship: "I can’t be your baby no more."

For the greater part of 2019, I found myself in the thick of it. Drinking heavily more nights than not and equally as addicted to an emotionally abusive relationship, my sense of self was all but torn to shreds. Much like Anjimile, "I quite literally felt like I was losing my mind, vis-à-vis alcoholism," though it was my close friends whom I hurt the most. While the fresh, upbeat nature of "Baby No More" contrasts some of the darker lyrics, for me, the levity mimics the relief that comes with detaching yourself where you need to; it's that second of clarity, seeking help and coming out better for it. Anjimile's debut record Giver Taker, which will delve further into mental health struggles and coming out as transgender, is due out September 18 via Father/Daughter Records.

Arcade Fire’s Will Butler has released the second single off his upcoming solo record, Generations. “Close My Eyes” grapples with the pain and hopelessness that fuel desire for a revolution. This soul-inspired, synth-y cruiser may sound lively, but Butler is shedding some warm lamplight on the reality of racism and collective trauma, and insinuates his need to stay in the backseat as a white male. The line “I’ve got to dance to keep from crying,” nails this sentiment. The chorus is a much needed release, with stacked harmonies to match the upswing. 

Butler’s jangly ballad digs into some Motown and also nods at early 2000’s indie-pop. These inspirations, as we know, generate a heart-swell that Butler knew was important to lend—leaving the listener feeling heavy with the reminder of today’s realities, but also appreciative of what we have to get us through. The rest of Generations drops on September 25, where more of these themes are sure to emerge. Photo by Will Butler.

girl in red's new single "rue" is a haunting, emotional track, obviously inspired by the HBO show Euphoria both sonically and lyrically. From the start, the pounding drums and reverb-drenched instrumentals recall the dark nights and neon dreamscapes depicted in the series. The lyrics describe a relationship in which her mental health issues have made things hard on her partner, taking a toll on the relationship—similar to the dynamic between Rue and Jules shown in Euphoria. She describes crippling depression in the lines, "I hate the way my brain is wired / Can't trust my mind, it's such a liar / Believe me when I say / I can't carry the weight." Despite her struggles, though, it becomes obvious throughout the song that she wants desperately to save the relationship, repeating "I will make it work" in the bridge like a mantra, almost as if her saying it enough times will make it come true. "rue" is an emotionally impactful, atmospheric track with a booming, catchy chorus that will not be leaving your mind anytime soon. Listen to "rue" wherever you stream. Photo by Isak Jenssen.

Ahead of the release of his first solo project under the name of Lupin, Hippo Campus's vocalist and guitarist Jake Luppen presents track "May". The single is a delightfully chaotic introduction to him as Lupin, even for the fans who were already used to him as Jake. An honest reflection on his relationship at the time, May's lyrics might remind you of the feeling of the passage of time this year: "It lasted longer than you had expected / (Oh May) But shorter than I thought it'd be." The daze of the energetic beat or the heightened vocals only corroborates the idea of ever-so-reluctantly letting go of a connection with someone. While his writing on Hippo Campus had the mixed energy of a crew of artists, Lupin's self titled debut album is set to be a deeper dive into him as a whole—his story, his ups and downs, his most profound fears, the mark he is leaving in the world. The album's release is set for October 9.

It almost goes without saying the concept of time in the year of our lord 2020 has all but completely disappeared, and while the concept of stalled time is present in Neil Frances' track "Tuesday," the feeling is more on the side of timelessness. "Tuesday" begins with a jolt, propelling the listener outside of their personal 2020-inspired brain fog, right back into the beloved club scene of the 1990s. Crashing cymbals carry the song, inviting the listener to engage in a light and fun chair-swivel dance, but inside the listener's head, they're grooving contently in an era where it was not only safe to go out on a Tuesday, it was common not to give the idea a second thought.

The Los Angeles duo seem "in" on the idea of creating a timeless throwback anthem where the listener spends the quickest three and a half minutes on a hip-shaking journey into yesteryear. They invite us to forget everything which may be ailing us, with the opening lyrics "There's no good or bad with what we have / don't you know?" It's clear the feeling on the agenda for "Tuesday" is nothing short of good one; the duo's music video for the track exclusively features dogs riding in the car with their heads blissfully hanging out the window, a sweet and calming backdrop for a song which details the collective confusion over the lost sense of time, but frequently reminds us it is built on the ever-present reminder there is still positivity in the world.