“I Guess This is Life” opens with a floating piano melody and percussion, with a light swagger as casual as strolling through falling autumn leaves on your way to somewhere mundane; and Jordana's innate ability to capture the power of that mundane is what lends the track its warm glow. The light instrumentation allows her voice to serve as the focal point of the song, and her lyrics are as conversational and candid as you’d expect from a close friend you haven’t seen in a while. In a montage of mental scenes, we see Jordana walk past the same house party twice in one night, stare at the ceiling, visit her mom at home in Maryland and take a boat ride with an old friend (to whom she says, “it was so nice to see ya”). It captures the essence of the routine so many of us have felt after leaving home, leaving childhood friends and some old dreams behind, and being jolted into adulthood; we wake up, work, take a walk, sit at home and eat dinner alone, occasionally visit our parents, eat, sleep, repeat — to which Jordana echoes our thoughts by singing, “I guess this is life.” Although the piano carries a sunny disposition, the wistfulness of this sentiment and the aching loneliness of feeling disconnected from our own life — although it continues to speed past us — can be felt throughout the song. It reminds us that even once we feel settled into our adult life years later, it takes no time at all to quickly recall that once-biting feeling of its disjointed beginning, when we first wondered, “is this all there is?” But, it also urges us to remember that there’s so much more to come, even if we haven’t arrived at it yet. [Recommended listening method: staring at the ceiling from your childhood bedroom over the holidays.] Photo by Jacob Clark.

Christina Schneider has performed under many names throughout her life, owning each genre and unique sound that follows. Now, as Locate S,1, she has made a collection of covers her very own. “Stay Away From Music” comes from the four-song EP Stay Away From Music: Covers Under Quarantine. Schneider’s self-produced covers fit into the make-it-in-your-bedroom intimacy of bedroom pop, but also sound at times like they are on the brink of classic rock in the 60s — and, simultaneously, 80s pop mega-hits. "Stay Away From Music" opens with faint voices from a crowd before we are led into a synth-heavy tune. Schneider's version retains the groovy, soul-filled sound of the Stephen Colebrooke original, but quickens the pace and adds some flare with the introduction of a saxophone. Despite our current lack of live performances, we all share a similar constant — we can’t stay away from music. Photo by Ebru Yildiz.

Solemn hums and deep, enveloping guitar carry us away into Juanita Stein’s abyss of memory and frustration in “Reckoning,” from her latest album, Snapshot. Stein’s Snapshot is a tributary collection of songs, written a few months after her father’s passing. Reflecting on her loss, “Reckoning” articulates feelings of heaviness and regret that follow in tandem with past memories. Stein catapults her anguish into the chorus with fervent vocals as these haunting spirits unearth themselves and tenderly sway through the air. It is a track that will linger long after playing it, shadowing all in its mysterious and gravitating presence.

It’s time to turn up your speakers and blast the best groovy bellow of 2020! We need this bout of cathartic funk more than EVER right now. Listen closely, as Harry Terrell and Jachary give you everything you’ve been craving in this year of chaotic madness: a hot track to scream and shout about on that breezy nighttime drive, windows down, with nowhere to be. You can feel the reunion of musical friendship in this cross-country collaboration between lovelove studios in Brooklyn, NY, and Wonderboy Studios in Los Angeles, CA. This song belongs in your funky jams playlist, right next to Stevie Wonder and Curtis Mayfield. Enjoy this handful of good vibes and hip grooves, and take it as a reminder that despite the apocalypse, we really just gotta do our thing.

With “Call You Back,” Barcelona post-punk trio MOURN have crafted an anthem for me and every millennial or Gen Z-er whose fingers shake when we pick up the phone. While short, “Call You Back” is anything but basic; the track is packed with glimmering pop energy balanced with grungy guitar riffs and assertive vocals. Bubbly and bright, the tune offers some catharsis to the all-too-familiar dread of a dial tone, the anxiety of awkward silences and bad angles on video. “I’d rather die,” they shout, and despite the way Zooms have become my norm, I still concur. It’s hard to believe that the song was penned months before the pandemic, but its accompanying split screen cell phone-shot music video is all the more apt as a reflection on the ways that getting to see faces and hear voices has been a saving grace for many of us, the only way to feel connected. And I get it, I really do, even if it’s just my weekly hopping on Discord to play Among Us with some high school friends. But if you FaceTime me unprompted, just know I still won’t answer, no matter how much you think I love you. Photo by Cristian Colomer Cavallari.

MOURN's new album, Self Worth, was released via Captured Tracks on October 30. Listen on Bandcamp or wherever you stream.

Fresh out of the UK, where a burgeoning bedroom pop scene continues its spread across the pond via Soundcloud, Bandcamp and Spotify playlists, now comes Leeds-based artist John Gooding, a.k.a. JWestern. His most recent single, “Regret It All,” is a catchy, soulful track so smooth and mellow it will have you floating — headphones on and eyes closed for full effect. “Regret It All” is one out of five tracks that make up his promising EP debut, Just People. Its seventeen-minute runtime is a rich production packed with multi-layered sounds, some satisfying hooks stacked against a cool and hazy soundscape. Like much of the EP, “Regret It All” cleverly blurs the lines between its neo soul grooves and dream pop textures. The song begins with Gooding’s blurry, almost muffled vocals singing the main hook, "Don’t make me regret it all," a line that repeats itself throughout, essentially building out the song from that one verse. His vocals then melt away into the soundscape, fading in and out of the mix, along with his bright melodic guitar licks that come in climactically towards the end of the track, tying it all together. “Regret It All” is a guaranteed pleaser for those of us who’ve been vibing for the past years to Rex Orange County, Yellow Days and King Krule — or more recently, Arlo Parks among others. Photo by Aubrey Simpson.

There’s a feeling about the approach of summer that makes the season so liberating. It’s the indulgence in the sun's rays on a hot day while worries pass you by. Belgian artist Abrahamblue embodies this feeling on “You,” a selection from the artist's debut EP, Tracks I Made Last Summer. The track mixes elements of jazz, neo soul, and hip-hop to present a slow, groovy melody. Lyrically, the track is simple, but perfect. There's no need for an intricate narrative when blue's laid back attitude speaks for itself. For blue, the sweet escape of summer is nothing without the one who's caught his eyes. The repetition of "You" in the chorus especially creates a soft, melted ambiance that draws us in.

As a producer, sound engineer, mixer, composer and singer/songwriter, Ben Rice wears nearly every hat imaginable in modern music. In congruence with his multi-faceted commitment to the craft, his latest single pays tribute to the deserving, dedicated individuals who have become victims of their environment. "American” is a courageous speculation of waning national identity. With hints of country and Americana flair, this gentle listen primes its audience for a critical reflection on today's American dream paradox. It was always nebulous, and for many, it’s been increasingly inaccessible. Rice serenades those “riddled with anxiety through the best years of [their lives]” over a psychedelically empowered arrangement. From here, a culmination of influences surface, from the very generation that shaped this fate to the voices of today who fight tirelessly for a shift in ground. This piece is me, you, your mother and your uncle. While his focus is immediately grim, Rice encourages further artistic creation as we approach a horizon on which future generations will hold us responsible.