Angelo De Augustine has released "Time," a single off of his album Tomb coming out January 18 off of Sufjan Stevens label Asthmatic Kitty Records. The 12-track LP was produced by Thomas Bartlett, aka Doveman, who has worked with artists such as albums St. Vincent, Sufjan Stevens, Glen Hansard and Rhye. Doveman is well known for his ability to bring a sweeping warmth into an album, and recently accompanied St. Vincent on piano for her new stripped down album MassEducation.

From lyric to sound, "Time" provides listeners with a wonderful example of Augustine’s past work. The track’s narrative is centered around the idea of waiting for a love to return and battling with the feeling that someone will always be in your heart even if they are physically distant, “Now your heart has been broken / And you're miles off away.” Although this topic can be initially read as desperate or hopeless, Augustine acknowledges the light in the dark, seeing time as a gift rather than a curse in the story between the two lovers, “Time keeps on learning / About you and me / I'll keep on loving / Someday she'll love me.” Augustine’s feathering voice, accompanied by the generously kind instruments throughout the track, creates an intimate sound in the work. We're very excited to see where Augustine will go with the themes seen on Time, and expect Tomb to be a truly lovely piece of work.

Using sweeping orchestral brushstrokes, Henry Jamison’s “Gloria” paints pictures of the purest goodness covered in the dust of hatred. The song grows and grows, with each instrument banging down the door through sheer repetition, until it can barely be contained. The most beautiful moments, though, are the most restrained. The vibrant choruses are preceded by bare, matter-of-fact descriptions of daily events, lent credence by undeniably specific descriptions of “the Dairy Queen drive-through down by the highway” and “the progress of our three-letter names” scrolling down arcade machine screens. Tragic but hopeful, the verses describe innocence in the face of ignorance — the natural beauty of a flower resting in one’s hair juxtaposed with the ignorance of homophobia, or childlike wonder tainted by perpetual exposure to violence. In reassuring us that there is worth and there is innocence beneath the vitriol, “Gloria” refuses to surrender its beauty to the way things are. Things don’t have to be this way. We made them this way. We just need to be better.

Florda's, "Silver Line," is out today as the first single off of their debut EP out this November. Montreal native Harris Shper is the mastermind behind the psych-pop project and as a producer himself, it's no wonder the tone of "Silver Line" is so well-executed. The song takes a modern and tasteful spin on disco, impressively mixing the sounds of the past and the present. With its groovy intro it doesn't take too long for "Silver Line" to get you off your feet, first to close the blinds and then to dance. As Shper's lo-fi vocals come through they become the perfect contrast to the vintage musical landscape. There is a shimmery element to song that fits perfectly with its title and theme of "Silver lines." In this case, its true that not all that glimmers is gold, but silver is just as precious.

The latest single by Houston-based band, Buxton, is eerily calm. “Hanging On the Coast” begins with a line that hums like nursery rhyme, “yellow rose and clementine / can’t keep you off my mind.” The song enters a cyclic rhythm, to and fro, with the support of slowly strumming instruments. It trudges heavy on the ears, the psychedelic sound of the band grounding the song while lead-singer Sergio Trevino’s husky voice keeps the song warm. “Hanging On the Coast” is wistfully poetic, brimming with a mystifying energy. It is this energy that leaves us curious what else to expect from Buxton’s forthcoming album, Stay Out Late, out this October.

Tasha, a blooming artist off of Father/Daughter Records, has shown herself to be gentle before. This time, with her most recent single, “New Place,” Tasha offers solace in new beginnings. She soothes us, “a new place, a new time / a new sun, new sunlight / a new bed, a new night / a new hand to hold tight.” Tasha's sweetness carries us throughout the song, her confidence in what’s to come shines brightly. “New Place” sways back and forth between spoken word and singing, creating a serenade that feels both like a rally cry and a lullaby. Her anticipated debut album, Alone at Last, creates a world where “there’s plenty of room to forge your own home where you can rejuvenate and heal." And “New Place” offers its listeners just that — a space where we can find strength in our vulnerability, “it’s okay if you feel nervous / look at me, my hands are shaking” but also where we can find joy in the endless possibilities of tomorrow.

Eliza Shaddad has released another single off her album Future, out October 26 via Beatnik Creative. "Just Goes to Show," a song reminiscent of the 90s pop-punk bands many of us grew up on, is about the sinking feeling one has when being broken up with. Yet, for such a melancholic topic, "Just Goes to Show" is light and shimmering, bouncing on a plane much more uplifting than a breakup. Shaddad’s song could be called a dancing-in-your-room type bop, one that you would listen to in the car with friends or while getting dressed on a weekend night. A crispness reminiscent of Phoebe Bridgers or Julia Jacklin, Shaddad’s sound has already blossomed into something that sounds obvious to listen to. Pulses of foggy guitars and relaxed drums warm the work, while the singers voice pierces through the upbeat tone of the work. We are incredibly excited about Shaddad’s debut album, and expect similarly wonderful things from her in the future.

Transparent B*tch, the debut EP from indie-pop project, Reilly & Co., really couldn’t have a better title. On the first track, “Depersonalization,” we find singer/songwriter, Em Noll, telling you exactly how she feels when she’s locked in discomfort. “I struggle with anxiety and a lot of the time, I guess as a coping mechanism, I sort of depersonalize,” Noll said of the song, “It's a difficult feeling to describe.” 

Amidst a keyboard bop, spacey guitars and an array of bright electronics, Noll uses her lilting vocal to chronicle the chaos that subtly arises when she feels threatened. She sings, “I’m trying not to go AWOL in whatever army I've been enlisted/ But who would really notice I’m gone when I've already been gone for so long,” disguising her angst in the melodies of a catchy chorus. Reilly & Co. lives somewhere in-between the indie warmth of Adult Mom and the glittering experimentation of Sylvan Esso, both playful and purposeful. “Depersonalization” lives somewhere in Noll’s psyche and she knows she’s not alone in that.

The most touching moment in Pearla’s breathtaking “Forgive Yourself” comes about halfway through the song, just before the point of no return when the song releases the breaks and builds into a cacophonous finale. Singer Nicole Rodriguez has at this point been asking herself, “Can you forgive yourself?” not just for 90 seconds but likely for her whole life, when an ounce of hope creeps into her voice and she turns the question around. “You can forgive yourself,” she allows, and worlds of possibilities flood through the crack in the sonic doorway. But even in her triumph come tribulations — among the layers and layers piled on over the course of the joyous celebration, discordant drones sounding more like helicopters landing than like anything in a recording studio pull her away from a simple happy ending. But that goes both ways, and in her tribulations, she has found triumph. “Writing it made me feel a thousand times lighter,” she says, and the feeling is mutual.

“Bad Idea,” the second track from Madeline Kenney’s latest release, Perfect Shapes, eases you into a melodic tranquility that is bolstered by Jenn Wasner’s (Wye Oak) sleek production. With sparse drum hits and fragile synth swells, a winding soundscape is planted as the backdrop for Kenney’s ample thoughtfulness. When she sings, “Someone gave up/ I don’t know who it was/ We’re getting bad ideas,” she reflects on the disjunct of relationships. Her vocal echoes the timbres of Half Waif’s, Nandi Rose Plunkett, who also constructs keyboard kingdoms and dreams up poetic lyricism. Kenney shows her allegiance to experimentation on this track, by the end offering pitched down backing vocals, clinking percussion, and a synth that sounds like a theremin.

Lauren Turk's soft croon and song pattern resembles popular artists from past decades such as the great Anita Baker. The Los Angeles singer-songwriter is a multi-instrumentalist, activist, speaker, etc. whose talents and impact extend far outside of music. As a singer-songwriter the themes of heartbreak and its aftermath are common territory, but Turk's insight is rare. "See You Again" is a story of letting go with love. The longer we hold on to things, the heavier they become...so letting go is really a vital act of self-love. Doing so with love not only sets us free, but attracts it back to us," she tells us. It's a powerful sentiment and as Turk sings there's more assurance with every note that one day she'll see this old love again and maybe then it won't hurt the way it use to. Make sure to follow Lauren Turk on social media to hear more of her music and humanitarian efforts.

Oddly enough, searching SoundCloud for “cushy bedroom psychedelic bossanova & dream surf” yielded no results until the release of Getaway Dogs’ “Papersoul II.” This song could have come out of few places but Santa Cruz, a seaside town that prides itself on its Austin-or Portland-like weirdness, close enough to San Francisco to fully feel the force of its 1960’s psychedelia. An expansive track surrounded on either sonic end by a twitchy bassline and echoing guitar twinkles, “Papersoul II” allows the drumbeat to steer the song, ranging in volatility from staring at the ceiling to urgently staring at the ceiling, discovering the symmetry in its hidden patterns..Nearly a cover of their own song, 2016’s “Paper Soul,” the sequel reads almost like a renewal of vows, as singer Kai Killion doubles down on his noncommittal lifestyle, singing “I don’t know but I’ve been told / My soul’s worth paper / If so I’ll sell it later / Not this time.”