Chicago-hailing Chase Walsh, popularly known as Worry Club, waltzes back into the scene with an impactful new release, “Bleach." The song welcomes listeners with a languid guitar that appears to hypnotize into a state of dubious bemusement, setting the tone for this reflective piece. The track attests to growing pains, bringing to life those overwhelming urges to transform one's identity in the midst of undergoing a whirlwind of issues. On the track itself, Walsh shared: “I really wanted to capture the nostalgia associated with a fleeting childhood. The idea of growing up has always scared the shit out of me.” In his plight to unearthing deeply-rooted childish nostalgia, Worry Club manages to create a single capable of tapping into one’s past while taking a contemplative eye to the current reality.

Break-ups may just look like the dissolution of a relationship to an outsider. When it comes to those involved, they’re often going through the motions of experiencing a split on the outside, and it may appear to look like nothing on the surface. On the inside, however, there is hardly a bigger storm brewing than that of an inner monologue of the broken-hearted. 

New York musician Margo Ross warns the recipient of that inner monologue not to “stand next to [her] fire,” or “Fan the Flame” of her already-burning list of thoughts on handling her split on her newest single. Musically, the track starts out with Ross strumming the guitar almost cautiously, as she begins singing, “Forgive me, I know not what I’ve done.” Describing the feelings the split has inspired, Ross leaves hardly anything to the visual imagination as she goes on to sing, “A tree falls, a noose tightens, but you’ve already won.”

Or have they?

As the song progresses, Ross’s vocals become stronger as the song continues flowing. Just like the universal idea of becoming comfortable with the idea of a break-up and the slow-but-sure progression of healing a broken heart, “Fan the Flame” gradually sprawls with violins and Ross’ doo-wop style backing vocals. Most importantly, Ross visibly grows more confident to the point where it sounds like she's throwing gasoline on her previously timid approach to sorting out her post-split feelings. 

The Margo Ross at the beginning of the track may feel surprised to learn how “Fan the Flame” could serve as the latest helpful anthem for getting through a break-up; it’s all found in her obvious from-the-heart vocal delivery wherein the listener can follow along in real-time as Ross’ healing journey unfolds in 3 minutes and 40 seconds. Sometimes it may be better just to listen closely instead of seeking advice. Photo by Kirra Cheers.

The plea is immediate—a curious narrator, a curious band. It sounds like Bantug is coming to us live from the image on the cover; it's a bit constrained, a bit uncomfortable, embodying that Sunday feeling—dreading the potential of what’s to come. As the first verse begins to loosen up, Bantug admits that much of this familiar pain is internal. Keeping it hidden from those around her out of fear of “being misunderstood or given / A pity that [she’s] never wanted." It's such a beautiful lyric with genuine vulnerability, and in this moment, the song feels all the more generous. It’s so hard for many of us to share these intimate fears and pains, as doing so can leave so much room for judgment. It takes trust in those we share with, something we might not have earned here, but Bantug is willing to offer it to us anyways. And how lucky we are. Just opening up ever so slightly here feels like a huge weight off the track’s spirit, propelling us into this gorgeous guitar-driven chorus. The drums offer an undeniable groove and Bantug steps into the spotlight, reaching up for a stunning melody. We settle back into a second verse, frustration building as every attempt to break from these fears leads us right back to them. The chorus explodes again, just as powerful and magnetic. Adding in a xylophone and strings gives the bridge a brand new texture, layers of vocals capturing the tension. The pre-chorus comes back, now just Bantug and some gentle keys, upping the intimacy and authenticity of these emotions. Starting with the bass, we feel the momentum building again. The driving force gives it a sense of optimism and assuredness we didn’t have before. Dancing our way out even if the feelings stay, or return, we know we’re in control now. It’s a beautiful single following two other terrific and dynamic releases in 2021 for Bantug, and we're excited to see what the Nashville artist has in store next. Photo by Kirt Barnett. 

Imagine entering a room and immediately being showered with rainbow glitter and rose-scented mist. That’s exactly how “Would You Like Some Tea?” by chickpee feels. From the moment you hit play, the track greets you will a thick groovy drum vibe and warm dream pop guitar lines. As soon as the lead vocal comes on, the mood is complete.  Here is the perfect example of less is more: simple lyrics provide honest, playful intentions in this beautiful musical inquiry. Listeners would be silly to reject a cup of tea from such a sweet, sincere voice and warm head bop groove. Don’t be surprised if your body feels like rainbow glitter by the end of this song, as the relaxed pop beat takes over your senses. This is a must-add for your party playlists, road trip tapes and secret crush dream songs. Photo by .

Laufey's debut EP Typical of Me is out today, and it's already stealing hearts left and right. Her track "James" might be especially good at that, as it tells a tale of the type of heartbreaker we've all fell for—and had a dramatic fallout with. Nothing feels quite like the realization that you were in too deep over the appearance of someone who is, in reality, too shallow. And nothing feels quite likes this track as Laufey combines her jazzy guitar style with captivating vocals and harmonies that will give the name "James" a whole new meaning for you. The Icelandic-Chinese musician writes songs the way a painter would make a self-portrait: mixing strengths and limitations to present a perspective no one else would have. The result is something deliciously charged with feelings. For more of that, make sure to check Laufey's Typical of Me. Photo by Blythe Thomas. 

In their first release since the sultry pre-pandemic single “Song Number 1.5” (Sleep Well Records, 2020) PRONOUN (formerly stylized “pronoun”) has returned in all caps, with a single to match. Tight, upbeat guitar riffs and kick drum bring a pop-punk sound to the latest from the self-proclaimed “indie-bedroom-pop-rock-whatever” musical project by Brooklyn-based artist Alyse Vellturo, whose layered reverberating vocals are the undertow of “I WANNA DIE BUT I CAN’T (CUZ I GOTTA KEEP LIVING).”

The song’s lyrics hit home right from the start: “Everybody’s moving on / Growing in their own way / No matter where I put myself / I’m always in the same place.” Even after more than a year spent primarily in quarantine and face masks, where surviving alone can be seen as an accomplishment, the pressures from society (and often from ourselves)—to do more, grow more, be more—have hardly let up. For this anxiety-prone writer, the future has been an ever-looming and ever-daunting question mark, with very few anchors around from “the before times” to keep the spiraling at bay, and not nearly enough of anything to distract from spiraling into the past. “I WANNA DIE BUT I CAN’T (CUZ I GOTTA KEEP LIVING)” is both a comforting notion that these feelings are not as unique as they can often seem and a welcome reminder that “Everything gets better, just later.” The arc of the lyrics in the song mirrors the title itself, waxing from self-deprecation to pep talk, with these especially encouraging words near the song’s end.

The release of “I WANNA DIE BUT I CAN’T (CUZ I GOTTA KEEP LIVING)” was accompanied by the announcement of PRONOUN’s forthcoming five-track EP, triumphantly titled OMG I MADE IT, out June 11th on Wax Bodega. Photo by Mitchell Wojcik.

Occasionally, farewells can be some of the most difficult bridges to cross. Other times, well, it seems those bridges just couldn’t burn any quicker. Indie-pop gem Richie Quake tells the tale of the latter in his latest drop “Never See You." 

This smooth track offers experimental synths that activate the senses, maintaining an intoxicating spontaneity in every pulse. Quake cultivates a lo-fi, retrowave audiovisual within this track that is most notably his. A stylized bassline effortlessly carries the lo-fi nature of the track before bleeding into an electronic funhouse of synths. The chorus is inexplicably tranquil, gliding listeners through the three-minute song on the back of the happily purported reassurance that he will “never see you again."

“Never See You” is the successor of “Rules," an upbeat funky track with a personality of its own that was released back in March. With more music on the way in the near distant future, anticipation cannot even begin to describe our elated disposition for all things Richie Quake. Photo by Freddy Torres.