Tame Impala Photo: Valerie Macon/AFP via Getty Images

Each week, Vulture highlights the best new music. If a song is worthy of your ears and attention, you’ll find it here. Listen to them all.

Tame Impala, “Posthumous Forgiveness”

“Posthumous Forgiveness” is easily the highlight of the latest crop of singles from Tame Impala’s upcoming The Slow Rush, because it doubles down on what front man Kevin Parker does so well. Parker excels at creating music that exists out of time, using sonic signifiers of the moment (you’d be forgiven if you thought the Weeknd in some way contributed to the vocals here), but as he moves further and further away from the relatively straightforward psych rock of 2010’s Innerspeaker, he continues to find a home in zonked out, hypnotic self-reflection. Here, he burrows further and further into his own life and memories, exploring his complicated relationship with his father, and how he wishes he could tell him about what his life is like now (hence the song’s title). “Posthumous Forgiveness” is ultimately the most lyrically direct Tame Impala song that exists, which also makes it the most heartbreaking. Parker’s greatest trick, though, is you’ll get exactly as much as you put into this song: At a minimum, it’s gorgeous sonic wallpaper, but spend a bit of time with it and it’s a fascinating artistic leap from an artist in the process of cementing a brilliant legacy. —Sam Hockley-Smith

The Weeknd, “Blinding Lights”

The King of the Fall has risen and is transporting us back to the ’80s. The Weeknd’s second single “Blinding Lights” off his upcoming fourth album is serving a manic explosion of energy, that pairs well with his companion single, and it’s music video, “Heartless.” Abel stays in a euphoric state in “Blinding Lights,” as he has an intimate affair with the City of Sin and a bunch of strung-out synths (he loves the synths!). It’s lighter, it’s trippier, and it’s peak Abel. It feels as if it’s the truest caricature of the Weeknd the brand. He’s promoting on Instagram again, he’s “going crazy” on late-night shows, Abel’s back, baby. —Clare Palo

Torres, “Gracious Day”

As the days grow dark and short and long drawn-out baths are the reward for a year of toil, the warmth of an acoustic paean to a dream of everlasting togetherness can fill a cold space with hope and the desire to recuperate for another trip around the sun. “I don’t want you going home any more, I want you coming home,” sings Mackenzie Scott, asking of her love to switch allegiance from the past into the future, to unsettle and resettle from old to new with the promise of lifelong commitment. It’s the time of year for “going home,” but that subtle distinction between sending oneself and being received is what has made Scott such a smart lyricist throughout her varied works, provoking such consideration in a few small moments. —Eve Barlow

Caribou, “You and I”

Melancholy, as a concept, is incredibly pervasive in the music we listen to. Who doesn’t love to wallow in a particularly beautiful downer jam from time to time? (By “time to time” I actually mean multiple times daily, or all day every day). Dan Snaith, as Caribou, has perfected a sad-on-the-dance-floor strain that manages to celebrate love even as it laments the more painful aspects of it. I had assumed that he’d reached the apex of this sound on 2014’s Our Love, which positioned him as the sort of nerdy club king of romanticism, but “You and I” takes the world he created there even further, letting synths waver and ripple, before pulling off the inclusion of a cheesy ’80s pop-metal guitar solo. It shouldn’t work, but it does. —Sam Hockley-Smith

Poliça, “Forget Me Now”

“Forget Me Now” isn’t your typical breakup song; it’s exempt from the regret that categorizes so many soured love stories. “What about me, what about me, what about me makes you lie right into my face. Laying alone in your mistake. Make it up to me someday. No, I’m gone.” Singer Channy Leaneagh builds her chorus one line at a time. Her lyrics expose layers of frustration yet her delivery is (almost eerily) serene. Blunt lines like “All the good men that I know / Lost their light to pills and blow” hit like a sucker punch nonetheless. Sometimes there’s no making good, there’s just moving forward. Poliça’s expression is one of confidence and grace. —Corinne Osnos

Kali Uchis, “Solita”

There’s a saying in Spanish that goes, “Mejor sola, que mal acompañada,” or better to be alone than in bad company. Kali Uchis took the saying to heart and is taking it one step further on “Solita” (“Alone”), the singer’s latest single since the January release of her debut Isolation. “Bailando aquí sola / Es mejor que con el diablo,” she sings, roughly translated to “I’d rather dance alone than with the devil.” Uchis sounds unhappy as she mourns a relationship, but don’t get it wrong: This song is not one for wallowing. During her Beats 1 interview, the singer said of the “sad yet horny” single, “I think that just goes back to wanting to feel empowered about independence, rather than feel like, ‘Poor me, I’m alone.’ It’s not really like that. I just feel like if you’re not adding value, you’re polluting my space.” There you have it: Uchis has no time to waste — and neither do you. Think of “Solita” as your theme song for the new year. —Daise Bedolla

Porridge Radio, “Lilac”

There is no way I would ever have predicted the existence of a band called Porridge Radio but now that one exists I cannot understand a world without one. Porridge Radio, who met in the U.K. seaside town of Brighton some years ago, actually sound like their name: Their musical landscape has a viscous, gummy heaviness that is incredibly satisfying to prod around in. “Lilac” is the band’s first release after having just announced a deal with Secretly Canadian. It begins with emergency guitars, strings, and a rhythmic patter that’s then interrupted by vocalist Dana Margolin’s assertions of hitting a brick wall. “I’m stuck, I’m stuck, I’m stuck, I’m stuck,” she frets, trying to work out how to be a well-intentioned person. “I don’t want to get bitter, I want us to get better” is a very relatable plea for the things we face as we strive to be better to each other and often find it’s much harder than we’d like to admit. But this Porridge Radio refuse to give up the fight as they screech through a final crescendo toward the light. —Eve Barlow

NoMBe, “Paint California”

NoMBe serves up a much-needed dose of vitamin C on “Paint California.” While New Yorkers are pulling on their puffer jackets, Angelinos are frolicking in Y2K midriff-baring tops barefoot on the beach. The music video proves nothing more and nothing less. This isn’t the first time the German-born artist has aired his appreciation for his adopted home (see “California Girls” from 2016) and it probably won’t be the last. Rippling synths and electric guitar color this Technicolor beat. —Corinne Osnos

Friday, November 22

Maggie Rogers, “Love You for a Long Time”

Maggie Rogers’s “Love You for a Long Time” is overflowing with hope. “I saw your face and I knew it was a sign / And I still think about that moment all of the time,” she sings. “And in the morning when I’m waking up / I swear you’re the first thing that I’m thinking of.” The song comes straight on the heels of her Grammy nomination for Best New Artist — perfect timing as Rogers herself noted this was actually written before she finished her debut album Heard It in a Past Life. “It’s a song about love in all its forms … I wanted it to sound like the last days of summer. I wanted it to sound as wild and alive as new love feels,” she said. In other words, it’s the perfect antidote to your end-of-year blues. —Daise Bedolla

Tinashe, “Link Up”

In April 2018, I told you Tinashe wasn’t a music-industry prisoner. Now here she stands a year later, one label down and one project up — this time, under “Tinashe Music Inc.” This week’s Songs For You is her first independent release, 15 songs reminiscent of her early mixtapes released between bickering with her former label home, RCA, over her albums. The distinction here is that, now, Tinashe answers to herself. But truthfully, she’s always had the mind of an independent, DIY by-any-means-necessary creator; Songs for You is an extension of this ethos. Even a track like “Link Up,” a made-for-Instagram pussy-stunting anthem, shoots above algorithm basics to experiment with a beat and even cockier attitude change halfway through. Give Tinashe her things! —Dee Lockett

HAIM, “Hallelujah”

Well, I don’t know who hurt HAIM, but it is inspiring some of their best work since the initial buzz that made them a household name (and worthy of Taylor Swift’s inner squad). No, but on a serious note, HAIM have been candid about all the shit they’ve worked through on their forthcoming album (here’s Alana sharing the awful story of the loss of her best friend that inspired her verse on “Hallelujah”). For awhile there, I thought HAIM might’ve run out of steam once they started to coast on PTA-directed music videos. (Their streak continues, but at least now the music and visuals enhance each other.) It’s so cruel and kind how tragedy and pain will bust open the creative juices. In this case, “Hallelujah” processes death with a level of vulnerability (and Stevie Nicks energy) I don’t think we’ve yet heard from the sisters HAIM. I’d love to hear more. —Dee Lockett

Soccer Mommy, “Yellow Is the Color of Her Eyes”

Ahead of 2020, I’m also incredibly excited for Soccer Mommy’s (a.k.a. Sophie Allison’s) future releases. There has been a glut of confessional female singer-songwriters with an emo bent in their late teens to early 20s in the past few years, but this Nashville singer-songwriter is the best of her ilk, and she’s only getting better. This song was written while Allison was on the road, thinking about the time she was losing out on with her mother. “’Cause every word is a nail that slips in slowly/And I can’t hammer it down enough to keep holding in,” she sings. Time! It is evaporating through our fingers. —Eve Barlow

Bad Bunny, “Vete”

Listen, I’ve had a hard week (month), and Bad Bunny isn’t helping. The Puerto-Rican reggaetonero may have just been nominated for two Grammys for X 100PRE and Oasis (with J Balvin), but his latest single “Vete” (“Go away”) is a break-up song that sees him in his feelings. The song interpolates Noriega and Kartier’s “Si Te Vas” as he sings, “Nadie te está aguantando y la puerta está abierta, eh / No te preocupe’ por nosotro’ do’, nuestra historia ya está muerta … Se acabó, por ti ya no siento nada.” His sadness is tinged with anger as he tells his partner that the door is open for her to leave because their love is dead. Add this song to your breakup playlist, and pray you won’t need it any time soon. As for me, I’ll be listening to the song on a loop this weekend, not to mourn a relationship but to mourn my messy week. —Daise Bedolla

Grimes, “So Heavy I Fell Through the Earth” (Algorithm Mix)

Was it the final mercury in retrograde of the decade that had me feeling some type of way this week, or do the latest releases from galactic goddesses FKA Twigs and Grimes have me more in my feels than usual? A few weeks after Twigs dropped MAGDALENE, a masterpiece full of glitchy, haunting tracks like “Fallen Alien,” Grimes released not one, but two, mixes of “So Heavy I Fell Through The Earth,” the second release from her upcoming LP Miss_Anthropocene. Lyrically, both tracks traffic in detachment, defeat, and impending doom. If listening to “Fallen Alien” feels like living a dystopian nightmare out loud, “So Heavy I Fell Through The Earth” feels like the out-of-body experience that precedes it. The Algorithm Mix is a mind-numbing blend of softly layered synths and relaxed vocals. Liquid novocaine. —Corinne Osnos

The Big Moon, “Take a Piece”

Based off singles alone, The Big Moon’s forthcoming second album Walking Like We Do is currently my frontrunner for 2020. It’s about time you knew more about this London-based fourpiece, so let me tell you about them. They put out a debut album in 2017 and were nominated for the coveted Mercury Music Prize in the UK. Although they did not win the gong, they took the success of that first outing into the world and now appear to have channeled an even greater confidence into the debut’s follow-up. As with all great indie bands, the four members of The Big Moon are such bright and differing personas that it won’t be long before you choose your favorite. They’re having fun with it all, too. “Take a Piece” is their poppiest number ever, and an ode to the craziness of life as a pop star, so naturally the music video sees them embody all their pop dreams, performing dance routines in perfect ’90s boy-band garb. Remember East 17? The Big Moon do. That’s why they’re legends. —Eve Barlow

Friday, November 15

Billie Eilish, “everything i wanted”

Just eight months after her debut album, When We All Fall Asleep, Where Do We Go?, Billie Eilish is back with a song cataloguing her meteoric rise — and the pressure that comes from her newfound fame. “I tried to scream / But my head was underwater … ’Cause everybody wants something from me now / And I don’t wanna let ’em down,” she sings on the Finneas O’Connell–produced track. The 17-year-old told DJ Annie Mac on air, “Pretty much that whole song is about me and Finneas’s relationship as siblings. We started writing it because I literally had a dream that I killed myself and nobody cared and all of my best friends and people that I worked with basically came out in public and said, like, ‘Oh, we never liked her.’” So what happens when you get everything you wanted, and you’re still not happy? Would you do it all over again? These are the questions Eilish finds herself asking, and while there’s no turning back time, she finds a lifeline through her brother. At the end of the day, isn’t unconditional love and support what we’re all after? Eilish knows she has it —Daise Bedolla

Labrinth, “Like a Movie”

The brainchild behind 2019’s breakout series Euphoria’s epic finale song is English singer and producer Labrinth. (No matter how you felt about the show, the score slaps.) His latest release, “Like a Movie,” also has cinematic flair. The record begins with a spoken-word bit: “Be careful what you wish for son, you may wake up and one day you fucking get it.” Labrinth is on the receiving end, stretching his voice to new heights with the line, “So many bottles of Champagne, I’m in a room with famous faces.” Labrinth braids dance-y pop formulas with quick-paced piano, bluesy strings, and a scat rendition. If Diplo remixed a Michael Kiwanuka song, I imagine it would sound something like this. (Diplo is a frequent collaborator of Labrinth’s, in fact, the pair recently formed a pop group with Sia called LSD.) Warning, the chorus — “This shit is like a movie. I feel like Scorsese” — is bound to stick in your head. —Corinne Osnos

Moses Sumney, “Virile”

“Virile” is a highly dramatic return from the former L.A.-based, currently North Carolina–dwelling visionary Moses Sumney. With theatrical strings, rolling drums, and an ever-crescendoing vocal, Sumney is teasing a double LP titled grae, an album that’s supposedly themed around “greyness” — but the track is anything but middling or drab. It’s forceful without being excessive, its strength enforced by delicate instrumental runs that, when cascaded on top of one another, form an army of melody. —Eve Barlow

J Balvin, “Blanco”

J Balvin’s new music video has everything: flying cats, hypnotic dancers, an array of animal sculptures, and Balvin himself covered in monochromatic paint. The Colin Tilley–directed video illustrates his latest single, “Blanco” (or “White”), the followup to his most recent feature on Major Lazer’s “Que Calor.” The Colombian reggaetonero takes “Blanco” as an opportunity to remind us that, in case you forgot, “Hago solo éxitos a lo Benny Blanco / No puedo parar, si paro me estanco / Sobra prosperidad, eso lo sabe el banco.” In other words, he only makes hits “like Benny Blanco” — and his bank account has the proof. It’s a good addition to the reggaetonero’s collection of, yes, hits, but don’t read into it too much. It’s fun. It’s made to dance. You know what to do. —Daise Bedolla

Lily Kershaw, “Now & Then”

Today the L.A.-based troubadour celebrates the release of a new album, Arcadia, after a month on the road opening for Joshua Radin and the Weepies. I caught the first night in L.A. at the Troubadour, and had my heart captured by Kerhsaw and this deeply honest ode to an old flame. It’s lyrically bereft (“You kept me on the line but never close to be mine”) but the sweetness of her rooted vocal ensures that it could never, ever be bitter. For all those feeling a little pensive as the winter kicks in. —Eve Barlow

Friday, November 8

Niall Horan, “Nice to Meet Ya” (Diplo remix)

Reader, look, I hear you: How the fuck are we meant to process the existence of a Diplo house remix of former One Directioner Niall Horan’s little pop-rockish banger? Well, like everything with Diplo these days (and always?) just go with it, I guess. 2019 has seen Diplo go full yeehaw culture, full Latin trap, and full literally whatever insanity he can think of next. The beautifully ridiculous video for this remix has Diplo in Niall Horan cosplay; the actual remix, though, is Diplo in Calvin Harris cosplay. That sounds like a diss, but I can assure you it’s not! Calvin Harris remixes always slap; Diplo’s are … hit or miss. But Diplo’s always at his best when he uncomplicates the art of club music, stripping it down to its purest form and remembering what this shit’s all about. His “Nice to Meet Ya” is good enough to make you want to go back and check out the original – the marker of any successful remix. —Dee Lockett

FKA Twigs, “Sad Day”

FKA Twigs’s brand-new release Magdalene is a breakup album littered with biblical allusions and recovery spun into the lyrics. It’s crazy to believe that heartbreak with Robert Pattison could create this much elegant content, but it’s intoxicating nonetheless. On the single “Sad Day,” she delicately negotiates with a lover, asking for permission to proceed, as her obsession becomes all-consuming. The track creates a high energy, low energy dynamic, and dances with the idea of this new relationship, or a new phase of a preexisting one. She begs them to “Taste the fruit of me / Make love to all you see” and asks “Would you make a, make a, make a wish on my love?” The lyrics are full of anxious requests, yet she seems content with any outcome. —Clare Palo

Rosalía, “A Palé”

Is Rosalía here to save humanity? The question is on many people’s lips. When she emerged with her debut album a year ago this week, she already seemed to have woken up like Beyoncé (or Björk, or both). And since, she has raised the bar with every visual and sonic offering she’s gifted her followers, who are increasing in numbers all the time. It’s hard to imagine that the album only landed 12 months ago; such is her impact. You could argue the Spanish performer and producer is single-handedly catalyzing the globalization of pop music, and using her spotlight to showcase the art, history, and culture of her own roots. In the video for the flamenco-cum-hip-hop smash of “A Palé” she sports a unibrow à la Frida Kahlo and the title makes reference to her upbringing in a town outside Barcelona. Mainly though, the song fucks. —Eve Barlow

Prateek Kuhad, “Hopelessly”

India’s indie singer-songwriter Prateek Kuhad is debuting new tracks on his American tour, which is a mix of sets from his 2018 confessional, breakup EP cold/mess, his 2015 album In Tokens & Charms, and incredibly engaging crowd-pleasers, which are sung solely in Hindi (made famous from Bollywood projects). His latest YouTube release plucked from his tour is “Hopelessly,” a vulnerable ballad with a devastating vibe. Kuhad looks back on being hopelessly in love, grieving a relationship that once was. Once referred to as a combination between “Simon and Garfunkel by way of Damien Rice,” and most recently compared to James Taylor and Joni Mitchell, Kuhad has a reserved embodiment that elicits incredible empathy. I just want to give this guy a big hug. —Clare Palo

Jessie Ware, “Mirage (Don’t Stop)”

Jessie Ware has proven herself to be a slinky chameleon, as capable of dramatic balladry or funky house as she once was dubstep cameos in the early 2010s. With “Mirage (Don’t Stop)” — her third song release of the year — she throws herself under the mirrorball with a more club-ready disco groove. Still based in London, Ware has collaborated with a host of top tier producers here in James Ford, Benji B, and Matthew Tavares, and reportedly there’s more to come on an album in 2020, including some tunes with Metronomy’s Joe Mount. For now, she’s serving a refined glamor for nights out on the town. —Eve Barlow

Exitpost, “Two Dreamers”

Dreams take hold slowly; we slip from unconsciousness to otherworld. Listening to “Two Dreamers” feels like occupying the space between. Exitpost is the moniker of Japanese-American producer Ken Herman. Born in Tokyo, Herman moved to New York at a young age. Inspired by a recurring dream from the artist’s childhood, where waking up in one city meant losing the other, “Two Dreamers” explores the spaces between our mental and physical states; the objects that tether us to our realities and the identities that color our dreams. Japanese vocalist Unmo’s delicate delivery of Japanese and English lyrics coddle the beat like a lullaby. Around the 1:30 mark, a fluttering of synths disrupts the ethereal soundscape. The music video (directed by Lee Arkapaw) features a collection of animations informed by Herman’s memories, real and imagined. Ordinary images take on shapes and sounds: chopsticks pinch, pages ruffle, and legs elongate. It’s a touch melancholy, wholly hypnotic. —Corinne Osnos

Friday, November 1

Tame Impala, “It Might Be Time”

Tame Impala’s transition from psych-rock project to vaguely proggy electronic music that fits within the structures of rock music is fascinating because it happened in plain sight. The shift from the guitar-centric Lonerism to the synth-focused Currents made sense because everything still bore the mark of Tame Impala mastermind Kevin Parker: an obsession with transition, with the feeling of being an outsider looking in, and then later, an insider looking out at the world he used to occupy with a sort of weary and wary acceptance. “It Might Be Time,” the first song to be released since the announcement of Tame Impala’s upcoming The Slow Rush, fits perfectly into the ongoing Tame Impala narrative. Think of it as a spiritual — if not sonic — sibling to Parker & Co.’s now-classic “Feels Like We Only Go Backwards.” Here we find Parker ruminating about aging and coolness over a track that’ll sound great at the next brand-sponsored Coachella-adjacent pool party you’ll find yourself at. That he’s smuggling hard truths like “It might be time to face it … you’re not as cool as you used to be” into that scenario says a lot about how and why Tame Impala have been able to stick around while some of their contemporaries have receded into the mists of a volatile music industry. Well, that and the dynamic drums of this song. —Sam Hockley-Smith

HAIM, “Now I’m In It”

In 2019, HAIM sounds like a band that isn’t afraid of the shifting sands. At the turn of the decade, it was one of the first rock acts to contend with being asked about what genre it fit into just as the age of indie tribalism was dying. Now such bands are expected to genre-hop. “Now I’m in It” is HAIM’sbest song in a minute, following the jazzy, relaxed “Summer Girl” with a far more maddening synth track, whose lyrics read as erratically as the verses’ racing, newly icy vocals. It’s also their most emotionally open song yet and thus protected by their hardest, tightest, most synthetic beats ever. Many a 2010s band that followed this sister trio have molded themselves in HAIM’s image, so it’s impressive to hear them advance their own take on FM rock once more. —Eve Barlow

Clams Casino, “Rune”

Clams Casino’s instrumentals are pure texture. You know how when you’re a kid and you see a cloud and you imagine what it must feel like to dive into that cloud — before you ever learn that you’d just fall right through it? That’s what Clams Casino’s music sounds like. Even at its most low-key, as on this track, his music is fun to listen to and really get inside of. That he helped A$AP Rocky define his sound on the now-classic (yeah, I said it) Live.Love.A$AP doesn’t hurt either. It’s generally easier to talk about how Clams works with rappers like Rocky or Vince Staples or Lil B than it is to talk about his solo instrumental work, but most of his more interesting ideas manifest in that solo work. On “Rune,” he’s still the master of the buildup, and a master of a sort of inverse drop, where instead of detonating, the song turns inward, then virtually shudders. —Sam Hockly-Smith

Dua Lipa, “Don’t Start Now”

It’s the morning after Halloween, which means it’s now Christmas, and international superstar Dua Lipa is giving the seasonal party people exactly what they want. Back with a disco bang (accent strings, a Chic-like bass line, etc.), Lipa sets the tone for every dance floor you’re about to sparkle on, and her silky yet sturdy voice is the most worthy successor to a Gloria Gaynor or Diana Ross that we’ve got. “Don’t Start Now” finds her taking a final strut away from a heartbreaker who couldn’t appreciate her when she was under their nose: “If you don’t wanna see me dancing with somebody / Don’t show up,” she sings. Dua, wop that thing, girl. —Eve Barlow

Torres, “Good Scare”

In a statement about “Good Scare,” Mackenzie Scott, who records as Torres, likens falling in love to the “Superman crawl,” which is apparently a spelunking move that involves sticking one arm in front of you and one at the side of your body so you can squeeze through tight spaces. It sounds absolutely terrifying, which is kind of her point. Falling in love can be scary — fear of the unknown, etc. — but I’m now more curious about how Scott is so up on spelunking moves. If she weren’t so great at writing songs of love and tragedy, I’d suggest an entire spelunking concept album, but then we’d lose the brilliant, heartbroken optimism she’s able to conjure in favor of, like, a song about stalagmites. Stalagmites are cool, but that would be a real loss. —Sam Hockley-Smith

CocoRosie, “Smash My Head”

Following their lukewarm collaboration with Chance the Rapper, sister duo CocoRosie delivered an eerie comeback track. At its worst, “Smash My Head” sounds like one of MS MR’s better songs. It’s the added touch of chaos (Die Antwoord flair?) that saves this track from being relegated to the pop graveyard. Around the two-minute mark, we’re treated to a high-energy instrumental interlude. “For us, our song ‘Smash My Head’ is a running-on-fire cry from the teenage heart, an inner scream we never dared to let out,” the band said in a statement. Big Halloween Energy. —Corinne Osnos

Deerhunter, “Timebends”

One of the great bummers about the way we listen to music now is that it’s hard to be a career band. Plenty of bands go on to release albums for decades, but their fan base and the discourse around them sometimes diminishes. Rather than follow an artistic progression, we just jump to the next thing before the last thing even has time to breathe and figure their shit out. Deerhunter, thankfully, is a band that has had time to breathe and explore new worlds with each album. “Timebends” is not an album; it’s just one very long song with multiple movements that basically acts as a new EP, unfurling with the sort of confidence that can come only from a decade-plus of making music. Across its 12 minutes, it moves seamlessly from strutting bar rock to long, almost dubbed-out piano vamps. Frontman Bradford Cox is an expert at translating vitriol to sadness and back again, but working with a run time like this, he disappears for minutes at a time, allowing the very accomplished band the space to explore all sorts of musical terrain, creating a hypnotic song that never really feels repetitive. —Sam Hockley-Smith

Friday, October 25

Selena Gomez, “Love You to Lose Me”

Selena Gomez and her middle part star in the music video for “Love You to Lose Me,” the first single the singer and former Disney star has released this year. Collaborators include the iPhone 11 Pro, Billie Eilish’s brother and collaborator Finneas O’Connell, and Pantene. Seriously, how does she get her hair so good??? Lyrics suggest this song is about an ex; it doesn’t take a Selenator to detect which one. Our culprit is newfound Wife Guy Justin Bieber.

Over the course of the last decade, Gomez endured a tumultuous on-and-off-again relationship with the artist, who would be engaged and married to Hailey Bieber six months after his breakup with Gomez. “Love You to Lose Me” may celebrate self-love, but it’s a postmortem for a relationship deferred and now done. Gomez has examined the remains (“this dance, it was killing me softly”), cremated the body (“set fires to my forest”), and made peace with death (“the chapter is closed and done”). Seen through this lens, the video is an exploration of the seven stages of grief. The video focuses entirely on Gomez’s facial expressions as if from behind a screen or through a picture frame, implying a separation of who she was then from who she is now. In one particularly gut-wrenching line, Gomez sings, “In two months you replaced us / Like it was easy.” Onscreen, she slams her hand down between stanzas; the image dissipates and we move on to the next chapter. —Corinne Osnos

Destroyer, “Crimson Tide”

Is there a better songwriter than Dan Bejar? Surely he’s somewhere at the top by now, depending on your tolerance for hyperliterary introspection sung by a dude who sounds kind of like a gnome (it goes without saying that he is not overly gnome-y, or else his whole thing wouldn’t work). My tolerance for the music of Dan Bejar stretches into infinity, and it should for you too, because he is consistently making music that plays with genre and nostalgia as a starting point, moving on to explore the weirdness of life against whatever instrumental backdrop he decides to go with. In this case, “Crimson Tide” is an upbeat, but still melancholic synth jam that gestures at the sunset yacht-rock excess of 2011’s crossover classic Kaputt, but breaks out of the mold of that record with a mini epic with vivid lyrics like, “A circus mongrel sniffing for clues / you watch the blonde make mincemeat of the brunette/ an actress pays her debt / to satan again and again” and also some stuff about following a salary to the bottom of the ocean. Is this a song about how we’re all valiantly and absurdly struggling to survive in a world that is perpetually stacked against us? Maybe! However you want to read it, you’ll find something to love here. —Sam Hockley-Smith

Frances Quinlan, “Rare Thing”

Do yourself a massive favor after you stream this song — find a copy of all about love by bell hooks, fully consume it from front to back, and then thank me later after you’ve digested everything. “Rare Thing” marks Frances Quinlan’s debut solo single, although it very much sounds like what we’re used to hearing from Hop Along. As per usual, she examines matters of the heart and in this particular case, she nonchalantly declares “I know there is love that / doesn’t have to do with / taking something from somebody.” It’s a sentiment that more of us should be keeping in mind as we seamlessly enter and exit relationships. (Side note: Did you hear the harp?!) —Sydney Gore

Dev Hynes, “Scoring, scoring” Instagram video

Blood Orange is “scoring, scoring,” and I’m … crying, crying. In a new Instagram video, Dev Hynes softly strums on the cello for 17 glorious seconds, for what is presumed to be a score for a new film or project, possible Lena Waithe’s Queen and Slim, out in November. In July, it was announced the Negro Swan artist would produce the film’s score for the soundtrack, out November 15. Hynes has a history of scoring for films like Brad Pitt’s Ad Astra, and for fashion shows like Louis Vuitton’s Fall 2019 Men’s Show, among others. Although this is most likely for a film project, I’d like to request this particular score to be sampled in an upcoming song, featured on a new Blood Orange single that I can listen to immediately, set as my morning alarm or phone ringtone (do people still do this?), really any of the above. I’ve already downloaded the video and played it repeatedly throughout the day when I needed some solace. How long does Dev make chilling eye contact with his phone camera? It’s exactly one second, thanks for asking. This score video is its own kind of music therapy. —Clare Palo

Donna Missal, “You Burned Me”

Donna Missal played an iHeartRadio gig in March of this year with a few other women (Karen O, St. Vincent, Lykke Li, to name a few), and — for me — Missal was beyond a doubt the voice of the night. She stunned everyone into a spellbound silence with her cover of REM’s “Everybody Hurts.” Missal has the Midas touch of the great legacy singers, the grit of a Joplin or a Slick, and the singed honesty of a Winehouse or a Morissette. The way she tears a stage apart squares up to the muscle of any of her male ancestors too. “You Burned Me” is her first taste of new material since her 2018 debut LP and it’s by far her best song ever — a goodbye address to a former flame whom she shuts out as her voice erupts like a phoenix rising over a ’90s horn section and a soul-drenched chorus. Think the winking clap back of a song like Sheryl Crow’s “My Favorite Mistake.” Everyone will know her name soon enough. —Eve Barlow

Briston Maroney, “Chattanooga”

Briston Maroney’s latest release kicks off with a confessional. “Way back before I knew you, I met a girl in Chattanooga, and I think she might even be the one / Still stuck on second chances, cigarettes, and old romances. Doing things I know shouldn’t be done.” This song is an anthem about two very unsexy topics: indecision and vulnerability. The pace and phrasing are designed to feel like we’re backseat to someone’s else’s stream-of-consciousness (“spent six months trying to plan out what I think I want to say to you”). In an industry full of plants, it’s refreshing to see a 21-year-old artist that sounds and looks his age. Recorded in London with producer Jim Abbiss (Adele, Arctic Monkeys), “Chattanooga” bends toward the underdog. —Corinne Osnos

Friday, October 11

Harry Styles, “Lights Up”

“Lights up and they know who you are,” sings Harry Styles on the chorus of his surprise comeback single. It’s a nod to illumination, identity, and self-assuredness, but as with everything solo Styles, he is a master of suggestion, not proclamation. Released on the LGBTQ-celebrated Coming Out Day, the ambiguity and freedom of the song’s sentiment, and the video’s array of gender representation with partiers raving body-to-body against the shadows of the night, are ever more powerful. Styles refuses to be defined. Where Styles’s smart and tactful debut LP was rooted in tasteful traditionalism — still wedded to Styles’s personality, or as much of it as he felt comfortable sharing — the palette was wide enough to lead in any direction. This brighter R&B track isn’t too much of a curveball, but it does feel different, a little grown, somewhat emancipated. “Lights Up” sets Styles in motion for an intriguing next chapter. —Eve Barlow

JoJo, “Joanna”

My teenage soul is singing. In her self-described “new chapter,” R&B pop vocalist JoJo released heartfelt ballad “Joanna,” the first single off her new album. The track is a self-addressed letter, full of self-critiques, notes from the negative voice in her head, and accumulating anxiety from outside sources, questioning her purpose as an early-aughts entertainer. She hints at frustrating pressure from past labels, “You should date somebody famous / That’ll probably put you on the A list / That’ll probably get you on them playlists.” JoJo’s the first to acknowledge that you think she peaked and is washed-up: “It must be something that you did / Did you go and have somebody’s kid?” She suggests that her revival was rushed, but she was adamant about coming back on her own terms. The lyrics are so raw that it seemed almost necessary to start out with a brutally honest take for her never “Too Little, Too Late” comeback. We’re so happy you’re back, Joanna. —Clare Palo

FKA Twigs, “home with you”

You already know what’s going on, do I really have to spell it all out? I love nothing more than Twigs activating rapper mode as heard in the first verse when she spits “I’m so wired for it, seen it, tried it / I’d die for you on my terms / When I get my lessons learned.” Whether we want to admit it or not, we’re all needy; the lesson is learning how to live with it gracefully. MAGDALENE is coming, I pray you’ll be ready for her to destroy and rebuild you. —Sydney Gore

Mammút, “Forever on Your Mind”

On their last album, 2017’s “Kinder Versions,” Icelandic fivesome Mammút decided to switch to English as their language of choice. It’s a decision they’ve stuck with on their return, two years later, with a brand-new song about dealing with internalized demons. As with some of their alt-rock Icelandic peers, the former teenage stars have become masters at evoking as much emotion and storytelling in the musicality of their compositions as they do in the lyrics. You hear it in the fatigued snarl of vocalist Katrína Mogensen’s verses, in the industrial drum beats, and the cold, muscular guitar parts. The tension is released on the chorus though, as they search for a breakthrough in seemingly eternal darkness. —Eve Barlow

Marcus King, “The Well”

I don’t dislike Greta Van Fleet’s music, but at times the group’s Zeppelin-like tendencies border on distasteful. At what point does fringe become infringement? Revering your musical predecessors is one thing. Profiting from the past is another. Though aptly compared to the Allman Brothers, Marcus King is no anachronism. (The Allman Brothers’ guitarist Warren Haynes is a mentor of King’s.) Country-rock meets Chicago blues on “The Well,” the first release of King’s inaugural solo album. El Dorado, produced by wunderkind Dan Auerbach of the Black Keys, debuts this January. Twenty-three-year-old King bends genres to his vocals, which possess a soulful grit, not unlike freshly greased tires on a dirt road. When King howls, “The good Lord give me that rock ‘n’ roll,” you believe him. —Corinne Osnos

Jacques Greene, “For Love”

If I only had one chance to show someone an example of a mating call for cuffing season, I would play them this song. Jacques Greene’s latest single initially draws you in with the drums, then switches gears with a scrumptious sample of THP Orchestra’s “Too Hot for Love” that solidifies it as a modern disco bop for the dumpster-fire generation. Dance like everybody is watching, we’re living in the age of hypersurveillance! —Sydney Gore

Cherry Glazerr ft. Portugal The Man, “Call Me”

Cherry Glazerr, spearheaded by Clem Creevy, remains one of the most gratifying bands to follow in L.A. With every release, be it album, EP, or one-off collaboration, they display a hunger for endless types of music, without ever losing their DIY punk roots. The Midas touch of Ariel Rechtshaid joins Creevy and her bandmate Tabor Allen in the co-production hot seat, while Portugal. The Man’s John Gourley’s soulful, feline voice is a perfect trade-off with Creevy’s saccharine ennui. “Call Me” is a groovy, psychedelic, conga-infused track that could be the theme song to a ’60s cartoon series. Its guiding principle seems to be to have fun. “I’ve got a message you won’t believe (call me) / I’ve got a secret that you can’t see (call me),” goes the chorus, stoking the intrigue further. —Eve Barlow

Flume ft. Vera Blue, “Rushing Back”

Sometimes you retain only fragments, loose threads that leave more questions than answers; other times memories floor you in their totality. On “Rushing Back,” Australian collaborators Flume and Vera Blue bottle this feeling into a record. Stripped of Flume’s warped beats, Blue’s voice reads more Kacy Hill than Ariana Grande. Her voice carries emotional depth, but it’s Flume’s production that infuses this track with urgency. “Sometimes I dream about going back, keeping all the things I left behind. But now I know you can’t change the past, way too young to know the reason why,” she floats over the verses; he throws a curveball, hits the snare. Say what you want about Flume’s extracurricular activities, but this track packs an atmospheric punch. —Corinne Osnos

Friday, September 27

Tei Shi ft. Blood Orange, “Even If It Hurts”

If you’ve been sleeping on bedroom-pop queen Tei Shi, here’s an excellent gateway into her lush little world. The Colombian-Canadian singer’s upcoming sophomore album, La Linda, only has one feature because, sometimes, being selective is the way to go. Enter: Blood Orange, who duets with Tei on “Even If It Hurts,” a retro-leaning fever dream about the allowances we make for the sake of love and the ways we’ll compromise our boundaries to make it work. “The concept is really the realization and acceptance that pain is a natural consequence of love,” she said of the song in a statement. The underlying message is deeply sad and deeply true, but like most Tei Shi songs, it is still somehow a bop? That word gets thrown around a lot, but I dare you not to get caught up in this song’s silky groove. ⁠—Dee Lockett

Empress Of, “Wild Girl”

The Empress is back! First-gen Honduran-American electro-pop singer Empress Of has released another incredible hazy and electric dance track following her 2018 album, “Us.” The L.A. native collaborates on the latest track with Australian record producer and DJ, Kito, to create a freeing bop that encourages whirling and jumping around your room like an idiot, similar to her tourmate Maggie Rogers’s music. “Wild Girl” convinces you you might truly be an audacious flirt, persuading you to sift through the fire, and daring you to send that flirty IG DM. Turn this track up for the freaky Fall weekend. —Clare Palo

HAIM, “Panini”

Earlier this week, HAIM served up a genre-bender in the Live Lounge. The sister band delivered a stripped-down rendition of Lil Nas X’s “Panini.” If you listen closely to Lil Nas X’s version, you’ll notice the breakout artist samples Nirvana’s “In Bloom.” While making the record, Lil Nas X said he didn’t realize he was using almost the exact same melody. (Nirvana’s late frontman Kurt Cobain is credited on the record.) For their cover, HAIM plays up the connection to Nirvana, interspersing lyrics from “In Bloom” and playing up the track’s sub-pop elements. Thanks to dizzyingly clear audio from the BBC Radio 1 studio, lead singer Danielle Haim reaches new heights. —Corinne Osnos

DaBaby ft. Stunna 4 Vegas, “Really”

Between Billie Eilish, Megan Thee Stallion, Lizzo, and Lil Nas X, the Best New Artist field is stacked for awards season. But I’d bet on DaBaby to pull off the upset. To cap off his breakout year in which he burst out of nowhere to steal the show on pretty much every song he featured on, not to mention the success of his own songs like “Suge,” he’s dropped his second project in six months, Kirk (his real name). Now that he’s got your attention with his whip-smart bars, this project’s mission is twofold: bring you in a bit closer and also flex like a winner. “They wanna know if he can rap, I tell ’em, ‘Really,’” he begins on “Really,” buried in the project’s back half, having already answered the question about a dozen times this year ⁠— and that’s just on this project. DaBaby is perhaps rap’s most exciting new voice, along with Megan the Stallion (see: “Cash Shit” for what happens when you put ’em together); I look forward to hearing whatever else he has to say. –Dee Lockett

Wiki, “Eggs”

Wiki is a perfect New York rapper because his combination of reverence, frustration, and love for the city that birthed him is palpable in every single one of his songs. That is a great place to be when you’re staring the entire sonic landscape of New York rap in the face, trying to fit in between new artists making waves and the oppressive weight of being surrounded by living legends in a city that doesn’t so much bulldoze its musical past as it does sloppily build over it. But all that aside, “Eggs” is Wiki at his best. His voice spikes and stabs through Madlib’s sloppy beat chop. It’s a harsh, prickly rasp that forces you to pay attention. He’s not the kind of dude who ever glides over a song. He is always bobbing just above the beat, barely staying afloat. He’s cocky but self-effacing and warm, and that is the reason why he’s indelibly connected to New York, even when he’s working with a producer from California. —Sam Hockley-Smith

Allie X, “Fresh Laundry”

L.A.-via-Toronto pop visionary Allie X has been consistently writing, performing, and visualizing some of the best hard-edged synth pop out there, and those who know have been rewarded plenty on her previous bodies of work. “Fresh Laundry” is her return and one of her most sophisticated songs yet, built on a noir-ish minimal beat that reminds me of St. Vincent or Nine Inch Nails. She writes about solitude, change, and wanting better connections. “I think I’ve had enough of hard mornings,” she sings delicately. “These days no one’s bothering me ’bout nothing.” A Spanish guitar leads into a toothsome chorus that sees her questioning how to find something new. If art truly imitates life, and vice versa, then her reinvigorated sound will hopefully reap dividends. —Eve Barlow

DIIV, “Blankenship”

In 2012, DIIV released their debut album, Oshin, which featured a song called “Doused” that captured everything that was great about the band. It had a bummer energy transmuted into frantic, gothy-guitar work that lent the whole thing a sort of tightly wound urgency. There have been a lot of other great DIIV songs since then — most of them, in fact — but “Blankenship” is the first to capture that same compelling sense of discomfort. DIIV frontman Zachary Cole Smith makes an effort to turn brooding moments into legitimately pretty songs, even if he’s denying himself, and his listeners, any kind of catharsis. I’m not sure frustration has ever sounded this good. —Sam Hockley-Smith

LIZ feat. Aja, “Lottery”

It’s hard to stray away from Charli XCX now that Charli has finally arrived, but LIZ dropped yet another banger that deserves the highest of praise on the nearest dance floor. Spicy girl fall is here and “Lottery” is the name of the game because your girl needs to get on top of her finances with this “Black Card heart!” Everything that LIZ touches turns into glitter confetti and I’m hooked on it like Phonics. FYI, my new motto is officially “You want it / Can you afford it? / Will you support it? / Let me extort it.” —Sydney Gore

Friday, September 20

Jhené Aiko, “Trigger Protection Mantra”

The hardest part about mental illness, I find, is the inability to get any consistent goddamned peace and quiet. The mind is always buzzing, always overactive, always locked in its own internal dialogue. And until ~science~ figures out how to implant a “mute” button up there, those of us who suffer remain fucked. It’s a good thing, then, that Jhené Aiko has more homeopathic solutions to offer in the meantime. She has released “Trigger Protection Mantra,” which, as its title suggests, is less a song than a guided meditation. A mood stabilizer, if you will, in which she chants affirmations (“Calm down eventually” / “Protect your energy”) while playing a singing bowl and nothing else. This goes on for over six minutes and, reader, it is a dream state. If you or anyone you know suffers from anxiety or any sort of unruly mind, this is a godsend to cancel out the noise. —Dee Lockett

Caroline Polachek, “So Hot You’re Hurting My Feelings”

Ever since launching her own solo project, the former Chairlift singer has been making some of 2019’s most fascinating synthpop. This fourth single off her forthcoming debut, Pang, recalls the 1975 or the Japanese House, which is compelling given just how consistent it is with Chairlift’s oeuvre — a peerless catalogue that always had the mileage to be more widely recognized than it was. Polachek’s voice gasps for oxygen as she tries to grapple with an insatiable object of affection. “Don’t send me photos, you’re making it worse!” she sings, while the track brims with ’80s guitar and Fleetwood Mac synths. It’s a nostalgic John Hughes soundtrack for the type of crush that reminds you of the first ones. —Eve Barlow

Anderson .Paak, “Old Town Road”

Well, now that we’ve hit the ceiling (I hope) on remixes, bring on the covers! The whole point of “Old Town Road” is that it’s literally whatever genre you want it to be and, really, whoever’s performing the song determines how you’ll perceive it. So while it was trap-country meme music in Lil Nas X’s hands, with Anderson .Paak at the helm for the BBC Radio’s “Live Lounge,” it’s … easy listening? Jazz? A hint of funk? It’s damn good and groovy is what it is. Let’s just all stop questioning it. —Dee Lockett

Masego, “Big Girls”

Nothing moves the needle quite like positive reinforcement: Earlier this week, jazz musician Masego dropped the video for “Big Girls,” a song about thirsting after full-bodied women. According to the “Big Girls” singer, the song was inspired by a group of women at a party in Nairobi, Kenya, who were delivering “Lizzo energy.” Welcome to the Cake Club, where Masego pays homage to the curve of her hip, the jiggle of flesh. In the video, electric purple-and-green hues decorate a low-lit living room setting commanded by several plus-size models with cheekbone highlights worthy of a Glossier campaign. Members of Masego’s signature TrapHouseJazz band serve up glittering instrumentals featuring a particularly buoyant bass section by special guest Alissia Benveniste. It’s no “Soulmate,” but we’ll take it. —Corinne Osnos

Soccer Mommy, “lucy”

Soccer Mommy, a.k.a Sophie Allison, is so good at writing about temptation and the allure of damaging people and situations. “Lucy,” her first new song of 2019, is the perfect follow-up to her debut album, last year’s Clean, as it tries to dig at the root of the attraction. Ultimately, the song turns inward to find that the pull has less to do with the thing she’s being inexplicably drawn to and more with how she’s inviting these demons into her life and letting them take up residence where they don’t belong — which is to say she’s her own worst enemy. Crazy how that works! —Dee Lockett

Brent Faiyaz, “Rehab (Winter in Paris)”

Welcome to Sad-Boy Fall. The Weeknd is going full album mode post-breakup, sweet Shia is … doing something, and Brent Faiyaz is releasing new singles. On his second single this year, Faiyaz, originally of R&B group Sonder and that really good Goldlink song, opened up about loving someone who loves drugs just as much he loves the object of his affection. After spending the summer in London, Faiyaz has moved on to “Winter in Paris,” on which he sings about regrettably choosing to spend time with his crew over his crush but realizes they’re spending more time with the blow than them anyway. And it makes him kind of jealous? It’s unclear, but our R&B king has a lot of feelings, and he’s feeling all of them — and hopefully putting them on a whole new mixtape about his trip abroad. Only Brent Faiyaz can make “If you ain’t nasty, don’t at me” sound kind of sweet? —Clare Palo

Okay Kaya, “Ascend and Try Again”

It’s been a weird couple of weeks. It feels like the simulation is on fire and chaos is erupting at every second, between Caroline Calloway, Lauren Duca, and whatever other nonsense involves Donald Trump. All I’ve wanted to do is dunk my head underwater and drown out all the noise pollution. Oftentimes, the directions we’re given to complete specific tasks can be applied to real life, so the fact that Okay Kaya was able to find a beautiful metaphor within instructions for scuba diving was refreshing. “Blow your nose gently / You shouldn’t ever feel pain,” she sings in the song’s opening verse. “You could try wiggling / You could try swallowing.” If only I could retreat to a hot spring as she does in the accompanying video. —Sydney Gore

Friday, September 13

Halsey, “Graveyard”

It’s easy to get a bit ahead of ourselves once things start going our way and the pressure mounts to want to outdo our last big thing. Halsey’s had a tendency to slip into patterns of overcompensating so as to appear provocative and avoid boxes to the point of pushing her sound, at times, past its limits (see: the recent “Nightmare”). “Graveyard,” then, like “Without Me,” works because it gets back to Halsey fundamentals: aching candor about struggling to quit the shit that’s no good for us, packaged in melodies that are as addictive as the toxic love described in the song that’s driving her to an early grave. It’s as simple as that. If Halsey can continue to get out of her own way for the rest of her forthcoming third album, Manic (note that the self-portrait she paints in the “Graveyard” video is also the album cover), it’ll be better for it. —Dee Lockett

Danny Brown, “Dirty Laundry”

As a producer, Q-Tip is extremely versatile, and though he’s probably mostly thought of as a guy who knows his way around a jazz loop, his tendencies lean more experimental than that. Still, it was surprising to hear that he’d be responsible for executive-producing the forever craggy-voiced Danny Brown’s upcoming uknowhatimsayin¿ In addition to being a guiding light for Brown’s next album, he also produced the first single, the wonky, cartoony, and dirty “Dirty Laundry,” which manages to be a highlight of Brown’s catalogue while exemplifying everything he’s been doing so well for his entire career. Danny Brown’s voice is an acquired taste, but when you sync with it, it’s like nothing else in rap right now. On “Dirty Laundry,” Brown plays the dirtbag, running through unfortunate sexual encounters, light scams, and other unsavory incidents. It works because it’s self-deprecating — and because Brown is ultimately a charming guy. It’s memorable because of the chemistry he has with Q-Tip, but you’ll return to it because it drops you right into the off-kilter world the pair have constructed. —Sam Hockley-Smith

Ariana Grande, Miley Cyrus, and Lana Del Rey, “Don’t Call Me Angel”

Did Ariana, Miley, and Lana possibly create an anthem to combat … catcalling?! No, probably not, but if this was 2008, I would download this song as my ringtone on my LG Xenon slide and just have my friends call me every time I was catcalled on the street (yes, this is a thing I’ve thought about many a time). It seems excessive, but I’m getting that vibe from this breakup anthem, which has a tinge of anti-misogynist sass. In what for sure are my dreams manifesting to reality, three of pop’s angels collaborated on a song and music video for the Charlie’s Angels reboot soundtrack (out in November), which is co-executive-produced by Ariana Grande. While in the reboot the three angels are portrayed by Kristen Stewart, Naomi Scott, and Ella Balinska, we’re clearly meant to believe the music-world version consists of Ariana Grande, Miley Cyrus, and Lana Del Rey. Ariana is most definitely the ringleader to this corrupted, dark gang. I don’t know how much hotter these three can be as they strut about a mansion, box a model, and eat grapes erotically in the video above. I had to fan myself to cool off. —Clare Palo

The Big Moon, “Your Light”

“Your Light” is the best song London-based quartet the Big Moon have written yet. The indie troupe have been working away at the followup album to their 2017 debut, Love in the 4th Dimension, and are talking up the leap they’ve made in both songcraft and message. So far, the tracks they’ve unveiled have provided ample evidence to support their claims. “Your Light” is a reflective track about the anxieties of being young in a world that looks to be falling apart, beginning with dirge-y bass lines and a running drumbeat. Yet by the time the chorus bursts through, it becomes as airy as the sentiment it’s intending to chase, shimmering with vocal harmonies. The song urges to find a brief minute in which you don’t need to feel guilty for taking a momentary breather from the chaos. Sometimes a song can do that; help you recalibrate before you have to face the other music again. —Eve Barlow

Angel Olsen, “Lark”

I first became acquainted with Angel Olsen’s music via her Strange Cacti cassette in 2010. It was a low-key collection of folk songs that showcased promising writing and an intangible otherness that pointed toward something special that I couldn’t quite put my finger on. Subsequent releases clarified Olsen’s talent: She’s an incredible songwriter with an ability to wring anthemic moments from the most intimate songs. So what would happen if she made an actual, real-deal anthem? “Lark,” it turns out, is that anthem. Warped strings crash around thunderous drums, and by the end, when Olsen is performing a sort of controlled wailing, it becomes clear that while the song approaches familiar topics — love and growth and how it can shift and change and disappear as we get older — its sound is something else: an abandonment of nostalgia and warmth in favor of catharsis and unflinching reality. —Sam Hockley-Smith

King Princess, “Ain’t Together”

Every good origin story includes what used to be called “the talk” (as in, “have you had ‘the talk’ yet?”), defined as the moment a couple decides to take their relationship to the next level. Once upon a time, it was as simple as typing out an AIM message (“wanna be bf gf”) and sealing it with a profile shoutout. Settling down isn’t what it used to be. From Bushwick to Bachelor in Paradise, couples are struggling to define relationships in the face of increasingly fluid dynamics and choice paralysis. “I know you’re with me,” the 20-year-old pop artist sings, addressing a love interest. When she sings, “Everybody knows, you and I got that something,” her voice trails off, like she’s trying, desperately, to hang on to the sentiment that comes with the line. The lyrics capture the threshold between significant and significant other. There’s a softness to this track that reminds me of Liz Phair. On “Ain’t Together,” the emotional resonance is in the undertow. We feel our narrator’s resistance to her own desire to label the thing. As if the act of labeling might asphyxiate this living, thriving thing that’s doing just fine on its own. “Being chill, being chill with you, oh it kills, I ain’t chill at all, at all. We say ‘I love you,’ but we ain’t together, do you think labels make it taste better?” Commitment, you elusive beast. —Corinne Osnos

Friday, September 6

Camila Cabello, “Liar”

This week we got a very dark, very gooey Billie Eilish as a fallen angel and a naughty, angelic Camila Cabello. In a jazzy Latin track, Camila asks us to continue our Hot Girl Summer shenanigans into the fall. Camila wants you to make her a liar — she’s begging you (it’s either you or Shawn Mendes, and I choose to believe she’s speaking to me, personally). The track is filled with very horny, saucy beats, as she sings about a steamy romance she’s really “trying to avoid.” Here’s to hoping we get a sexy performance of this song on SNL this fall, horns and all. —Clare Palo

The Highwomen, “Highwomen”

“Highwomen,” the opener and cornerstone of country supergroup the Highwomen’s self-titled debut, is a chilling montage of destruction. In five verses, vocalists Brandi Carlile, Amanda Shires, Yola, and Natalie Hemby take turns recounting the moment the life was snuffed out of an ambitious woman. Each story is more crushing than the last. After Carlile’s character gets caught up in the Nicaraguan revolution, and Shires’s New England mystic is hanged in Salem, Massachusetts, Yola plays a freedom fighter who risks everything to fight for equality, and Hemby embodies a preacher killed for daring to take a role in church leadership as a woman. Verse five is the kill shot: “We are the daughters of the silent generations / You send our hearts to die alone in foreign nations / It may return to us as tiny drops of rain / But we will still remain.”

“Highwomen” is a sister song to Johnny Cash, Kris Kristofferson, and Waylon Jennings’s 1985 single, “Highwayman,” which detailed “Wichita Lineman” writer Jimmy Webb’s lurid dream about a life on the run. Played by outlaw-country elders in a commercial lull, it is a word about resilience. The updated version scans over 300 years of oppression in less than four minutes, the message being that in spite of radical changes in the human experience, the main theme — people in power keeping other people out of power — endures. These women just wanted to live, love, and be loved, but the planet couldn’t handle that. Coming from musicians working in an industry so hungry for fresh perspectives on gender that it’s spawning singles like “Different for Girls,” “Woman, Amen,” “Speak to a Girl,” “Woman,” “Girl,” “Women,” and “Girl in a Country Song,” “Highwomen” is protest music. —Craig Jenkins

Grimes, “Violence”

On “Violence,” an abusive relationship is explored from the victim’s perspective, its parasitic qualities intact. In the opening to the artist-directed video, Grimes kneels on marble steps clad in her signature dark-fairy attire reading The Art of War. An ancient Chinese treatise considered to be one of, if not the, oldest living military documents, The Art of War outlines 13 preeminent strategies, one chapter at a time. “Violence” will likely appear on Grimes’s upcoming record, Miss_AnthropOcene, which the artist described as “a concept album about the anthropomorphic Goddess of climate change.” Will Grimes tackle the major ways in which we exploit nature on a song-by-song basis (à la The Art of War) on her new album? Furthering this premise, “Violence” is a fitting first release. It introduces our characters, Miss_AnthropOcene and the Earth. The pair revel in their hedonistic ways: “You feed off hurting me … And I like it like that,” sings Grimes, as spellbinding synths speak the language of mutual destruction. Listen if you like Taoism, Burning Man, and Arca. —Corinne Osnos

Charli XCX ft. Clairo and Yaeji, “February 2017”

At approximately the 1:58 mark, Charli XCX’s new pop collaboration with Clairo and Yaeji gets so emotional I had to set my drink down to listen to it five more times over. The track starts off trippy and techno, a number you’re definitely going to hear on a club playlist in the LES for the next six months, and fuses the electronic synths with an earnest apology letter. The three artists mourn the mistakes they made to their past lovers and ask for a reply to an apology text left on read (!!!). Charli pleads, “Hope you can forgive the things I’ve done.” But in the outro, things slow down, and the anxious determination for forgiveness goes soft. Korean-American electronic artist Yaeji gets intimate, sincerely asking, in Korean, if it’s too late for another apology. If you’re not already tuned in to Yaeji, and her collabs with Charli, get on that, stat. —Clare Palo

Pom Pom Squad, “Cherry Blossom”

Pom Pom Squad’s latest lo-fi lullaby is giving me some strong Michelle Branch vibes that I don’t want to fight off. “Cherry Blossom” is a prime example of projectile word vomit as Mia Berrin blurts out delayed apologies (“I’m sorry that I made you carry all that weight”), bittersweet memories (“It’s hard to forget waking up to your face / On Tuesday mornings when I got to sleep in late”), and wishful thinking (“You’re gonna wanna be my friend one day”) while reflecting on another unhealthy relationship. Even though she’s made a mess of her raw feelings, there’s still a level of control maintained with support from a steady guitar and bass. At the end, she calmly concludes with “I hope you’re happy with the choice you made” like the nail that seals the coffin shut. —Sydney Gore

Brasstracks ft. Kyle Dion, “Professional”

Last week, Brasstracks slid into my Release Radar playlist with their latest track. Welcome “Professional,” a song that’s playful and easy on the ears. It features Brasstracks’ signature mix of jazzy horns and R&B stylings. “Professional” sounds suspiciously like a Bruno Mars song, and yet, collaborator Kyle Dion’s funk-filled falsettos drip with sexual energy. (Mars’s vocals do not.) Let this feel-good track quell your end-of-summer woes. —Corinne Osnos

Friday, August 23

Taylor Swift, “I Forgot That You Existed”

The diabolical laugh in the last chorus of Taylor Swift’s “I Forgot That You Existed” is my energy for 2019. Senseless cruelty is tough to grasp. You live with the immediate effects, the hurt and self-doubt that stew in your thoughts during the worst of it, but then you dwell on what motivates people to act on their worst impulses, to betray trust, to tear each other down. The letting go can be as bitter as the strike itself. The wondering why can cloud your mind long afterward, like the pervasive smell of smoke that follows a fire. The feeling is quite like having another person take up residence inside your head, soaking up time and emotional resources, just making you angry. “I Forgot That You Existed,” the opener to Taylor’s new album, Lover, is about the day the fog lifts, when you manage to put enough time between your bad days and your present that they start to slip your mind. It’s a great sentiment to kick off the album after Reputation, a recalibration that steers the artist in another direction without completely divorcing her preexisting catalogue. On that front, “Forgot” is a success. —Craig Jenkins

Charlie Puth, “I Warned Myself”

If you broke Charlie Puth’s heart, square up! On Wednesday, Charlie, with a buzz cut and that same beautifully scarred eyebrow, released his new single “I Warned Myself.” It is a song about love and loss, secrets and lies — basically a breakup. But Charlie knew better, warned himself, and hooked up with this woman anyway! “I warned myself that I shouldn’t play with fire,” he sings. “But I can tell that I’ll do it one more time / Don’t trust in myself, no good for my health / You messed with my heart, now you’re the reason why.” Okay, but who exactly is the reason why? Was it his ex-girlfriend Halston Sage? Was it his old “We Don’t Talk Anymore” flame Selena Gomez? Was it this season’s Chuck-Wendy conflict on Billions, a show Charlie has proved himself a fan of? CP Family, we await the results of your federal investigation. —Hunter Harris

Missy Elliott, “Throw It Back”

Rejoice: Missy Elliott has released a new mixtape, Iconology, and a new video to go with. “Throw It Back” imagines my greatest fear (people have forgotten about Missy “Misdemeanor” Elliott) and hope (there is a museum dedicated to her). We’re then treated to a panoply of good old-fashioned Missy weirdness. Bald backup dancers; Missy on the moon, jumping rope with braids; and enough wild lipstick colors to go around. —Bethy Squires

Lana Del Rey, “Fuck it I love you”

I had the honor of being in Los Angeles when this big mood dropped, which only enhanced my listening experience as I deeply tapped into Lana’s golden state-tinted mindset. As I made my way through the hills from West Hollywood to Echo Park, I was tempted by the fantasy of missing my flight back to New York and completely uprooting my lifestyle in favor of this sun-kissed bliss. When you spend a whole afternoon streaming a song on loop, it changes you. Please bury me in the sand, Lana. —Sydney Gore

The 1975, “People”

Youth is a feeling most of us forget. It gets ripped out from us as life becomes more about tasks, responsibilities, consumption, and capitalism. We forget what it’s like to feel young. We infantilize the idea of it. We think they have it easy, that we know better. We don’t. This week, the 1975 have made their second plea to listen to the youth (their first came via activist Greta Thunberg and their last single) and they’ve done so by bottling the sound of adolescence; the sound of confusion, of anger, of energy so suffocating it has to be screamed out for fear it will rupture the organs that keep you breathing. “Wake up!” shouts Matthew Healy, waking his younger self up, too. The 1975 have often talked an angry game but they’ve never sounded this angry. They are so angry that they’ve made a punk song. A straight-up Sex Pistols/Sonic Youth anti-fascist, pro-youth, big ol’ shout-y anthem that wishes to make as much noise as possible, because if you can’t be happy with the status quo, at least you can find your purpose. —Eve Barlow

Finneas, “Shelter”

In one day, Finneas gave us a headlining tour schedule, an EP announcement, and a brand-new song. “Shelter,” the first single from his upcoming Blood Harmony, is a “feverish” love song written long before he was touring the world with his sister, Billie Eilish (and knocking Lil Nas X off his horse with their co-produced “bad guy”). “I wrote this song a couple years ago and just let it percolate for a while, seeing how it would age,” Finneas said of “Shelter.” “I wanted this song to have an urgency to it when I recorded it, the same way that the lyrics do — the kind of feverish feeling that accompanies loving someone.” He sings urgently over a collection of drums, hand claps, and acoustic beats, “I don’t wanna think about a life without you … I don’t wanna go to war, but I’m about to / Give me, give me shelter, from the storm.” It’s not quite as melancholic as his previous releases, but there seems to be trouble on the horizon as he claims, “They call us lucky, but I think we might be cursed.” Still, it’s his most danceable release yet, and you can bet the energy will be just as feverish when Finneas performs “Shelter” on tour. —Daise Bedolla

Brockhampton, “SUGAR”

Bless this beautiful Friday. Brockhampton’s fifth studio album Ginger, released just a year after Iridescence, is a soft banger, filled with hard rap hits and thoughtful, unconventional R&B tracks. Their track “SUGAR,” which features four of the group’s members, was released prior to the group’s album drop and is easily one of the best songs on the album. It’s a perfect song to end a very heated hot gal summer. Ryan Beatty opens the song with the chorus, an anxious confessional to a crush, divulging that he just can’t sleep without this person on his mind, and he needs answers, now! which … same. Don McLennon and Matt Champion spit two verses of unapologetic raps on an otherwise confused and melancholy song. Our favorite empath, (one the group’s best singer-songwriters) bearface promises his love is real, but fades out the song with “do you love me?” It’s a fair question, bearface. Towards the end of the track Kevin Abstract (yes, I know just his name gets you hot) chimes in on the bridge, rapping once again about … passports. They’re really hard to get, so we understand the fascination. —Clare Palo

slenderbodies, “arrival”

Wake up, drive to the beach, iron out some melodies, rinse, and repeat. At a dinner party in Williamsburg, band members Max Vehuni and Benji Cormack outline the daily routine that went into the making of their upcoming album, komorebi, due in September. The California-based musicians started playing music together in college under the moniker slenderbodies, a name that bears no connection to the creepypasta meme, but rather, “implies a light, airy feel while also being grounded.” The band produces soundscapes: music that feels like an extension of nature. On “arrival,” Vehuni and Cormack’s spellbinding vocals float over a looping electric guitar bit, creating an ethereal vibe reminiscent of alt-J’s “3WW.” The band started writing the song by asking, “If you could immediately communicate with someone who was just born, what would you say to them?” Writing over email, the band supplies one version: “Overall, enjoy the highs and lows of life, welcome the awe of nature, fill your life with those you love, let the light in, accept things as they come and see them through.” —Corinne Osnos

Friday, August 16

Miley Cyrus, “Slide Away”

Cyrus’s “Slide Away” manages to feel quiet and intimate without any flatness. Producers Mike WiLL Made It and Andrew Wyatt mix hip-hop drums, warm guitars, sweeping strings, and layered samples as Miley eulogizes her marriage to actor Liam Hemsworth, a split made public mere days ago as rumors swirl that the singer is seeing Brody Jenner’s ex Kaitlynn Carter. “Slide Away” isn’t vindictive or tabloid-y. It’s just about knowing when to cut your losses and move on. The music suits Miley’s voice, pushing her without overwhelming her. The mix doesn’t sound like anything else from this decade; this is the kind of record the gifted British singer-songwriters landed on at the end of the ’90s, when everyone started jet-setting around genres and playing with samples. It’s much more like Blur’s “Tender” or the Verve’s “Bittersweet Symphony” than anything on Bangers, Dead Petz, or Younger Now. It’s a fitting end to a ten-year period of wild swings and big changes for Miley to find sturdy middle ground between jibing her interests and making a record that sounds like all of her, all at once. Time will tell. —Craig Jenkins

Taylor Swift, “Lover”

“Lover” is the ideological inverse of her first two Lover singles, a song about shutting out the world and shacking up with a significant other one assumes to be her boyfriend of three years, Joe Alwyn, presumably for the long run. It’s the quietest music to come out of her collaboration with pop producer Jack Antonoff since Reputation’s closing piano ballad “New Years Day.” The smoky low end is reminiscent of ’90s country and country-adjacent gems like the Cowboy Junkies’ cover of Lou Reed’s “Sweet Jane,” or Mazzy Star’s “Fade Into You,” but in burying pretty piano and guitar notes under a hokey walking bass line in the interest of effecting a slow build, “Lover” doesn’t take flight until the last chorus. —Craig Jenkins

Normani, “Motivation”

Normani “That Bitch” Kordei’s new single “Motivation” is deservedly being overshadowed by its terrific video, an homage to 2000s R&B (namely, Beyoncé), from which Normani draws pretty much the entirety of her influences. But don’t sleep on the song. One of the best things Normani has done since departing Fifth Harmony was find mentorship in Ariana Grande (Normani opened for Ari’s Sweetener tour). Ariana has since loaned Normani her MV director (Dave Meyers), producers (Max Martin, Savan, and Ilya), and even her own pen (she has a co-writer credit on the single). The result is “Motivation,” a loose “Check on It” remake that plays to all of Normani’s (many) strengths with its layered, honeyed vocals and light feel. Its nostalgic simplicity is nostalgic in that way — going back to the basics of the genre suits Normani well. (And because it’s fun to play this game, please note: While Camila Cabello has been sold as the Beyoncé of 5H, here’s Normani cheekily naming her single after one of Kelly Rowland’s best. We see you.) —Dee Lockett

Big Thief, “Not”

Last September in Long Beach, Big Thief were playing a mid-afternoon slot at a festival to an unfamiliar crowd. The more songs they played, the closer the audience moved toward the four-piece, and with that, more Big Thief fans were converted. They are a traveling band in every sense, hawking their gorgeous songs about tiny and enormous catastrophes from pillar to post. On that day in Long Beach, they played “Not.” I’d never heard it before, and its verses, choruses, and epic guitar solos floored me so much that I went home and combed through their back catalogue, including the works of vocalists Adrianne Lenker and Buck Meek, desperate to find it. But no dice. Until now. “Not” is a surprise release this week, accompanied by a surprise announcement that Big Thief have a second album due in 2019 (as if U.F.O.F. wasn’t spellbinding enough) following a past pattern of releasing two albums in quick succession. This just might be their finest song ever — adding to their catalogue of near supernatural excellence. —Eve Barlow

Rosalía and Ozuna, “Yo x Ti, Tu x Mi”

After her wildly successful collab with J Balvin and El Guincho on “Con Altura,” it was only a matter of time before Rosalía released another urbano single. And it’s finally here in the form of “Yo x Ti, Tu x Mi,” her first duet with Ozuna — and her sixth single this year alone. Translated from Spanish as “Me for You, You for Me,” “Yo x Ti, Tu x Mi” sees the Catalonian singer and the Puerto Rican rapper and singer combine reggeaton and flamenco (along with some steel drums) for a flirty back-and-forth. “Se me para el cora’ sólo con mirarte / Porque a ti te canto pa’ que tú me cantes” (My heart stops just looking at you / Because I sing to you so that you sing to me), they sing to each other. The flirting continues in their lavish music video, directed by Cliqua, RJ Sanchez, and Pasqual Gutierrez. Clad in a pink fur coat, a flower helmet (no flower crowns here, thank you), rhinestone-studded nails, and a floral bodysuit throughout the video, Rosalía cozies up to Ozuna as they face the paparazzi’s cameras together. It doesn’t have the infectious bite of “Con Altura,” but we’re also not at the height of summer anymore. “Yo x Ti, Tu x Mi” is a love song to lead you into the fall. —Daise Bedolla

Shura, “Skyline, Be Mine”

The final track from Shura’s new album Forevher, released today, is so flighty it will send you levitating above its pattering drums, whirling synths, and deep bass lines. It suits the fact that the song is an ode to the New York skyline, capturing a moment of throwing open the curtains and staring out at the man-made beauty of those tall towers stacked proudly next to one another. Shura’s second record was written during a time in which she relocated from London to Brooklyn. She also fell in love in that time. This chorus is lyrically sparser than the rest of the record, but it’s all said in the instrumentation. You can hear her heart swell as the body of it builds. It’ll remind you of Moon Safari–era Air, or early-2000s Zero 7 and Boards of Canada — a throwback to ambient electronica. Chill, sophisticated, high as a kite. —Eve Barlow

MUNA, “Stayaway”

I share a few things with the powerhouse trio that is Muna, among them a love of Y2K fashion and a scandalized alma mater. I’ve been quietly following the group since 2015, from backyard performances in Los Angeles to their breakout EP About U. Their latest release, “Stayaway,” might be my favorite track to date. Grounded in emotional reality, “Stayaway” kicks off with a series of hypotheses that pick up speed as the song progresses, mirroring the pace at which anxiety supersedes logic. “If I see my old friends, we’ll go out dancing. If we go out dancing, then we’ll go to the bar. If we go to the bar, then there’s gonna be drinking. If I drink I’ll want to see where you are. So I don’t see my old friends, I don’t go dancing, I don’t do most things I used to do. Actually, now that I’m thinking about it, I did most things to get to you.” The chorus provides a much-needed release, accompanied by an acute realization: Breaking the habit is often harder than breaking up. —Corinne Osnos

(Sandy) Alex G, “Near”

The Porches’ influence is so strong on this one, there’s truly nothing anyone could tell me to change my mind! I dare to ask this question for the room: When is the last time that someone told you, “All I want is to be near you”? Now that I’ve had a few days to mediate on it, I don’t think I’ve ever had the pleasure. Alex G, you got me again. —Sydney Gore

Friday, August 9

Megan Thee Stallion ft. Nicki Minaj and Ty Dolla Sign, “Hot Girl Summer”

God, in Her divine wisdom, could not have prepared me for the Megan Thee Stallion–Nicki Minaj collab. Alongside Ty Dolla Sign, they’ve flipped City Girls’ “Act Up” into the song of the summer. It’s all brash, ebullient fun, the kind of music to keep on repeat, to play during the pregame, to make you blush on your way into work Monday morning. (Also: the incredible generosity of this trio to release it on my birthday. Their minds!) The Hot Girl Summer gospel has gone global — coffee shops in Williamsburg have etched it on their chalkboards to be cute — but this record is a welcome reminder of the movement’s roots: “I can’t read your mind, gotta say that shit,” Meg raps. “Should I take your love? Should I take that dick?” Send my regards to every boy I’m not texting back: Meg and Nicki said it’s a hot girl summer! – Hunter Harris

Lana Del Rey, “Looking for America”

If you’ve spent the past week shell-shocked and emotionally battered by the country’s continued descent into terroristic gun-toting madness … this song won’t stop the tears from flowing. Which is fine. This is a time to cry and mourn and feel the exhaustion, but to also channel the pain into action. Lana Del Rey took a flight back from Montecito, phoned her producer Jack Antonoff, and immediately hit the studio to process her feelings about the multiple massacres over the weekend. The result is “Looking for America,” continuing a streak of excellent songwriting from Lana. She typically has deep affection for the past, particularly as it relates to American iconography and patriotism, but “Looking for America” can’t be nostalgic for an America that has never existed. This is a rare moment where Lana, as a voice of reason, is looking ahead: “I’m still looking for my own version of America / One without the gun, where the flag can freely fly.” It’s not what America was or is; Lana sees what America can be. I hope she’s right. —Dee Lockett

The Big Moon, “It’s Easy Then”

“I’m so bored of being capable,” sings Juliette Jackson over a bed of piano chords. It’s her first statement, and a returning one at that, on her band The Big Moon’s comeback. And significantly it apes the reach of the band’s creative choices on this song. They’ve put the instruments away that defined their initial success, for now. “I’m just waiting for the piano to fall,” she continues, before her bandmates chime in on a beautifully harmonized chorus, lifting her from her doubts and stress. The Big Moon are typically a twangy-based indie fourpiece from London. They experienced the type of success on their debut LP that most pub-dwelling British bands could only dream of, including a prestigious Mercury prize nomination. The test for such bands is always in proving that they have more tricks up their sleeve. On “It’s Easy Then” they immediately throw the baby out with the bathwater. It follows in the great British traditions of Britpop bands who didn’t fear a lofty arrangement, a full breakdown, or both! They make it look like a breeze but it’s anything but. –Eve Barlow

Cashmere Cat, “EMOTIONS”

Maybe I’ve been watching too much Euphoria, but this song would have been perfect for any of the scenes where the teens are high out of their minds. The thought of being that reckless gives me hives, but there’s something to be said about feeling so strongly about things with a sense of urgency. I haven’t listened to Cashmere Cat in what has surely been years, but this single reminded me why I was drawn to his music way back when I was in college, how it made me want to escape to the nearest dance floor for a few hours of peace in motion. This should be you after listening to “Emotions” for the first time. —Sydney Gore

Hana Vu, “At the Party”

In the wake of the after-party, the 19-year-old artist sits on the floor wearing a deadpan expression. A smartphone-shaped fixture on her forehead activates a flashback; captured scenes from the night before play, preserved by technology’s gaze. “Do you care? Does it make you fall in love with me?” our protagonist asks, analyzing read receipts and blurred signals. No, this isn’t a Black Mirror episode; it’s a music video. “At the Party” is an evocapop anthem, fueled by icy synths and Vu’s dark lower register. Her upcoming double EP, Nicole Kidman / Anne Hathaway, is out in October. We’ll be here drowning in our feels until then. —Corinne Osnos

Friday, August 2

Haim, “Summer Girl”

Haim have consistently been a band about joy — joy for the love of music, which they are dedicated students of. Eldest sister Este studied Ethnomusicology at UCLA. Middle sister Danielle only just graduated high school before going on the road with Julian Casablancas’s band. Youngest sister Alana barely even applied to colleges, so certain that she was going to be in a band with her sisters. In music, they find happiness. In music, they escape indulging life’s suffering. “Summer Girl” is probably their most joyous song, and perhaps their most sophisticated, and yet comes from the darkest place. It’s trickier to do happy sophisticated than sad. It’s bold. So Haim turn to the masters. This time it’s Lou Reed.

“Summer Girl,” their first release since 2017 album Something to Tell You, is inspired by one of the best pop songs of all time: “Walk On The Wild Side.” It’s perfect, given Haim grew up in the ’90s, as much influenced by the rhythmic world of hip-hop giants such as A Tribe Called Quest as they would have been by New York ’70s punk. With a jazzy saxophone line and a “doot-doo-doo” chorus, sung as though reaching for a familiar tune, the trio do not hide from the fact. The lyrics tease: “Walk beside me, not behind me.” The song’s joy is also in its purposefulness. As Danielle explained in a social media post, the song began to come together as a little ode to cheer her partner (and its co-producer Ariel Rechtshaid) while she was on the road and he was at home sick with cancer. That’s pop’s best power: It can lift the spirits. It can provide a smile through struggle. It can bring sun to gray skies. It can reignite your faith in love when all you want to do is cry. —Eve Barlow

Angel Olsen, “All Mirrors”

When I was in high school, I was obsessed with ’80s movies — specifically films directed by John Hughes. I felt so seen in the narratives of misfits that refused to conform to the status quo, desperate to fast-forward to the next stage of their young adult lives where they would be accepted as their truest selves. Angel Olsen’s “All Mirrors” feels like putting yourself into that type of cinematic experience as soon as the ’80s synths arrive, although it’s probably more fitting for a title like Donnie Darko. In a press statement, she revealed that the swooping ballad is about “owning up to your darkest side, finding the capacity for new love and trusting change even when you feel like a stranger.” The accompanying visual depicts a women lost in a labyrinth, forced to face all of her selves in order to evolve into the person the universe has always destined her to be. Gah, the minds of women are so powerful! —Sydney Gore

Alchemist and Schoolboy Q, “W.Y.G.D.T.N.S”

Rap music moves faster than we can process it. Styles and flows pop up, get imitated, and then disappear before we even have time to decide if they’re played out or not. It’s one of the best things about rap — a genre that will never not be creatively fertile, will never become stale, and will always be pushing boundaries. Because of this perpetual forward movement, fans are always looking for the next thing. It’s why, not 24 hours after Kendrick Lamar released DAMN., rumors began circulating that Kendrick was going to drop another surprise album imminently. Of course, he did not do that. It would have been ridiculous and unnecessary. On this collaboration with the producer Alchemist — who is just at adept at creating hardcore New York rap instrumentals as he is jazzy, sipping-beers-at-sunset-while-passing-around-a-blunt tracks like “W.Y.G.D.T.N.S” — Schoolboy Q skewers our obsessive need for more (W.Y.G.D.T.N.S. stands for When You Gonna Drop That New Shit), but more importantly, he talks a bunch of shit, talks about a bunch of bad and crazy stuff that has happened in America, and oscillates between muttered thoughts, stream-of-consciousness digressions, and a brief foray into the biting growl that has become his signature. At first, it feels like an outro, but it quickly becomes something more than a throwaway capstone. It’s a track that plays with time and expectations and comes out the other side as a compelling collaboration between two rap greats. —Sam Hockley-Smith

Starcrawler, “Bet My Brains”

An earlier Vulture profile describes Starcrawler’s “scuzzy glam that evokes the teensploitation films of the 1970s and that decade’s street-level Hollywood depravity.” You may recognize their sound from Jason Clarke’s 2019 adaptation of Pet Sematary; a film I am personally triggered by, as someone whose childhood bedroom looked out upon a “garden” of Dead Petz (including one albino guinea pig named Chloe). The young pop-punk band is known for their high-octane live performances and their simultaneously zany and disquieting music videos; the group’s latest release “Bet My Brains” is no exception. In the video, lead singer Arrow de Wilde makes clown makeup great again while practicing her exorcist routine. Meanwhile, the boys look like they ambushed a Depop store. They seem cool. —Corinne Osnos

Brockhampton, “I Been Born Again”

Even when Brockhampton makes low-key or overwhelmingly dark tracks, the rap group that has decided to call themselves a boy band tends to lean cartoony. Usually this manifests in brightly colored videos, or moments of childlike exuberance. “I Been Born Again,” which is accompanied by a black-and-white video of the members rolling around and doing pushups on some sidewalk somewhere, is relatively subdued, and not cartoony at all. Instead it seems designed to rebuke those who felt like Brockhampton were riding the boy-band gimmick too hard — this is purely a strong, unflashy mid-album rap track recontextualized as a single. It’s vibe music, and there’s absolutely nothing wrong with that. —Sam Hockley-Smith

Friday, July 26

Taylor Swift, “The Archer”

This is called growth, people (*signals Kelly from Insecure’s growth hand gesture*). Taylor Swift’s melodic new single, “The Archer,” is one of the most self-aware tracks from the songstress yet. Finally, finally Taylor will let her guard down and rest — fighting is so exhausting. Part of the thing with therapy and healing is acceptance — acceptance that you can be “the archer” and also “the prey” and look at your mistakes just as critically as your enemies, and finally heal. In addition to the song sounding eerily like Reputation’s “Delicate,” we are also blessed with some Old World Taylor imagery: As her anxiety envelops her she sings, “I wake in the night, I pace like a ghost, The room is on fire, invisible smoke.” In the bridge, Taylor self-actualizes, “They see right through me … Can you see right through me? … I see right through me.” This must have been a breakthrough during her therapeutic songwriting sessions, or at least we hope so. Here’s to hoping the rest of the album is as honest as “The Archer.” —Clare Palo

Chance the Rapper feat. Death Cab for Cutie, “Do You Remember”

Well, the summer of features has come to this: Chance’s long-anticipated album, The Big Day, has just dropped, and the second track features none other than … Ben Gibbard? Yes, Ben Gibbard! The Death Cab for Cutie frontman, employing his unmistakable, soulful whine while presumably wearing a “3” cap over his floppy hair, sings: “Do you remember how when you were younger/The summers all lasted forever?” Gibbard is the archer and I am the prey; the line pierces me the way The Photo Album did my sensitive 16-year-old self all those years ago. Chance, of course, is excellent on the track as well, romantically remembering days past (velcro shoes) and not-so-past (Will Smith as Genie). The song melts various memories into one long summer — perhaps, even, 500 days of them? —Ray Rahman

The 1975, “The 1975”

You wonder if Matthew Healy likes being the “millennial that baby boomers like” (the lyric from last year’s “Give Yourself A Try”). It’s the most powerful position. He has a diverse captive audience at the bottom of his pulpit and he’s not about to waste it. In the great tradition of rock and roll, his band — the 1975 of Manchester, England — has reached the point at which they all want to put causes first, because last year’s A Brief Inquiry Into Online Relationships certainly proved that they matter musically, that they matter culturally, and that people are listening. Unlike the great tradition of rock and roll, they’re not interested in cashing in on what could be their most defining moment as they prepare to release their next effort, Notes on a Conditional Form, this year. The 1975 have done the punk-becomes-pop thing, they’ve done the narcissist-in-crisis thing, and now they’re doing the everything’s-fucked-so-we-may-as-well-save-the-world thing.

Notes on a Conditional Form then begins as all their other albums do — with a track titled “The 1975.” Except this time, the 1975 don’t take the lead. Greta Thunberg, a 15-year-old climate-change activist, does. I was sent this a week before its release while in a mire of extreme anxiety about a whole load of personal nonsense that doesn’t actually matter. When I listened to what Thunberg had to say, when I heard the way the 1975 were engaging with their audiences, when I imagined Matthew Healy giving his stage to another leader half his age because she believes that we still have time to make a difference, it actually calmed me down. All the money acquired from this song will go to the climate-change movement Extinction Rebellion, and the instruction is that we all “wake up!” There’s work to do. Let’s do it. —Eve Barlow

DIIV, “Skin Game”

While I’m fully aware that the phrase “everything was beautiful and nothing hurt” was meant to be ironic during the Tumblr era, I feel like we as a society are only now facing the reality that so many of us are suffering in silence. But people don’t have to hide alone in their pain anymore; you can find support through the struggle, and that’s the beauty of “Skin Game.” For me, the most chilling line is “Holding in coughs, hiding my head/ Everybody respects the dead” — it reminds me of all the lives that were lost too soon from overdoses. (RIP Mac Miller and Lil Peep.) DIIV’s forthcoming album, Deceiver, delves into the vicious cycle of addiction and unpacks the many dimensions of the disease. There’s no better time to open the dialogue; this subject is extremely relevant. —Sydney Gore

PJ Morton, “Ready”

“Many people thought I was done. Part of this documentary is to show everybody that I’m not done. Working on this new record in the mountains and it’s my best work. I’ve been so focused. Not just physically, you can see that, it’s crystal clear, but it’s not just about that. I’m a musician … We’re going to touch everybody, I mean, babies, grandmothers, teenagers, twenty-somethings, thirty-somethings, forty-somethings as well, fifty-somethings, black, red, yellow, white, green, blue, purple. Especially purple, we’re going to touch a lot of the purples. I think this is going to be a worldwide phenomenon.” So begins the spoken introduction to “Ready” before launching into tropical funk. “Girl let me take you on a journey,” PJ Morton implores his love interest to go steady. The New Orleans artist and songwriter passes the test with aplomb. May you finish your summer with the same confidence. —Corinne Osnos

Friday, July 19

Beyoncé ft. Jay-Z and Childish Gambino, “MOOD 4 EVA”

Beyoncé’s hardest bar, her greatest line, her sickest burn, is just her reciting her government name: “I am Beyoncé Giselle Knowles-Carter,” releasing every syllable with a snarl, like a threat and a promise all at once. (Obviously, she follows that by listing her royal résumé: “I am the Nala, sister of Yoruba / Oshun, Queen Sheba, I am the mother.”) Beyoncé on “MOOD 4 EVA” is the mother I never had. (To both my actual mother and Laurie Metcalf in Lady Bird: Please don’t read this.) She is the sister everybody would want. She is the friend everybody deserves. I don’t know a better person. I don’t know a better person! —Hunter Harris

Vivian Girls, “Sick”

And now for an indie-rock reunion that doesn’t feel like cheap nostalgia, or a maladroit play for your wallet. Vivian Girls, disciples of the 2000s noise-pop implosion, took their love of joyful girl-group harmonies, the Ramones, and bright, blown-out guitar fuzz and transformed into extraordinary mp3 blog fodder. Except, of course, their songs were timeless compared to the forgettable riffing that dominated New York City warehouse venues and college radio in 2009, and as women in a DIY network ruled by dudes, they were progenitors of whatever progress the space has encountered in the years since their disbandment. “Sick” is the lead single from their forthcoming full-length, Memory, their first LP in eight years, and it’s as if no time has passed — but it has, and they’ve simply aged into it. If “Sick” is any indication, Vivian Girls’ sound is still a hodgepodge of all their musical touchstones, indecipherable beneath the haze, continuously confronting and morphing into something much, much grander. —Maria Sherman

Wilco, “Love Is Everywhere (Beware)”

What an effortlessly breezy and beautiful new song from Chicago greats Wilco, whose 14th(!) studio album, Ode to Joy, is due out this fall. Jeff Tweedy & Co. typically work in two amorphous modes: tuneful, melodic folk-rock and the type of left-field experimental alchemy that made 2000s classic Yankee Hotel Foxtrot so striking. On “Love Is Everywhere (Beware),” they’re firmly in the former mode, with a spindly and hypnotic guitar line oscillating behind Tweedy’s hushed vocals — like a stone skipping across a lake, gently disruptive in its meditative calm. —Larry Fitzmaurice

Charli XCX and Christine and the Queens, “Gone”

British pop fiend Charli XCX has become as much a purveyor of taste as she has a pop star in her own right. Her forthcoming third album, Charli, is all about finding strength in collaboration, and “Gone” is inarguably her greatest collaboration to date. “Gone” manages to capture the qualities of both artists without dwindling either. It’s an ideal marriage — an ox of a song that serves to house and protect both of their struggles. On “Gone,” Charli and Chris separately bleat about disappointment in human relationships, about the solitude of needing to rely on yourself. It’s perhaps a comfort to them that they are aligned in this experience. Yet aside from their adjacent narrative, there’s nothing they can do to free each other from these shackles — or indeed the ropes they’re tied to a car in the song’s sensationally autoerotic video. That adds to the tension and release of the track’s titanic production. Its drums sound like fireworks being set off inside a closed steel container. That’s how it feels to be terrified to speak the truth, and yet also incapable of letting those truths eat you up inside. “I feel so unstable, fucking hate these people / How they’re making me feel lately,” sings Charli, in her most vulnerable state ever. Chris’s open-wound songwriting has clearly rubbed off on Charli, while Charli’s zero-fucks-given aspirational vision has lent Chris her hardest floor-filler yet. “Gone” is the song to beat this year. —Eve Barlow

(Sandy) Alex G, “Hope”

(Sandy) Alex G’s “Hope” begins w