“Flew Away” is the third of five stunning lo-fi tracks on the debut EP from fanclubwallet, Hurt is Boring. Ottawa-based musician and illustrator Hannah Judge looks back from a place of acceptance on the demise of a relationship, exploring themes of misunderstanding and miscommunication, what-ifs and so-whats, and how our own emotions can take us by surprise. She sings, “I didn’t know that it would make me feel this way seein’ your face online every day,” which is a testament both to the virtual spaces we have largely existed in for the past year and to the challenge of creating distance from our hurt when it always seems to be one tap or scroll away.  

Judge’s description of her style as “writing emo shit that doesn’t sound emo” is spot-on. Her vocal style is relatively understated, but her words pack a punch, and both complement the lo-fi instrumentals to give her music an undeniably nostalgic yet poignant bedroom pop sound. The mood is relaxed, but the sound is tight, guitar and bass riffs keeping time with a drumbeat during verses that punch between choruses and bridges backed by the youthful and energetic plinking of a toy piano—a favorite instrument of Judge’s that can be heard peeking out from behind layers of sound throughout the EP. A joyfully chattering crowd can also be heard at times in the background of “Flew Away,” adding a house-party vibe to the track—a nod, perhaps, to social lives past, and a sound we’ll hopefully all be hearing more of sooner rather than later.   

Written from her childhood bedroom during the pandemic, which coincided with a Crohn’s disease flareup for Judge (the line “I went to bed and didn’t get out for 10 months” is meant literally in her latest single, “C’mon Be Cool”), the EP is “about taking the good with the bad,” Judge has said. “You can’t really appreciate one without the other.” Not only was the EP written in Judge’s childhood bedroom, but it was also produced by her childhood best friend, producer Michael Watson. The pandemic has allowed many of us to reach back and connect (and/or reckon) with our past selves and past lives and take the good with the bad in what we find there. Judge likes to leave her lyrics up for interpretation, specific enough to allude to a situation, but vague enough to leave room for the listener to find their own meaning within the words. In keeping with this practice, “Flew Away” is sure to offer a little something for everyone. Photo by Ian Filipovic.

Runnner, the sometimes-solo-sometimes-collaborative project of Noah Weinman, is back with his third release of 2020. “New Sublet” has the band’s characteristic lo-fi slacker-folk vibe, but this time it’s met with strumming reminiscent of early 2000s Coldplay, meets the folk sensibilities of Caamp, with the croon of solemn horns. Melancholy and candid, the song describes an experience all too familiar to many 20-somethings: something in your life ends, whether it’s a relationship or a job, and it sparks a desire to browse new apartments in faraway cities—aching for the chance to begin again. But what happens when running away starts to become a habit? Does a fresh start ever truly fix what is in need of repair? Throughout the track, Weinman tries to talk himself out of craving a dive into the unfamiliar. Over a soft banjo melody, Weinman sings, “you’re just getting addicted to starting all over again.” After all, “New Sublet” reminds us that no matter where you go, you take yourself with you.

“Bunkbed," the recent track by self-described, “sad boy indie rock band from Memphis, Tennessee,” Blvck Hippie showcases the powerful combination of bold lead guitar and impassioned vocals. Front person Josh Shaw opens the song by ripping a guitar lick, which weaves together seamlessly with the bass. Shaw’s lead line is an ever-present force throughout the song, matching the emotive energy of the vocal and adding depth. Shaw’s mastery of expression through his instrument is on full display at the end of the bridge, where he repeats the phrase, “god I hate being alone.” The solo that he plays underneath those lines perfectly matches the sentiment and magnifies the emotional potency for that cathartic section of the song.

In addition to his guitar chops, Shaw shows off his impressive lyrically skill, machinating on dualities and dichotomies for much of the song. In the second verse, Shaw poignantly juxtaposes vodka and perfume—indicators of adulthood—with a twin-sized bed and a teddy bear—representations of the innocence of childhood. During the coda he shines a spotlight on the two-sided nature of any relationship or breakup, asking, “are you better off than I was?” Even the title refers to an object with an inherent paradox; a bunkbed provides connection and isolation simultaneously.    

“Bunkbed” is the first release of several singles recorded in one 10 hour session at Sun Studio in Memphis.

Babeheaven’s single “Cassette Beat” will be featured on their debut album Home for Now, out November 6. It’s a blissed-out ramble through a field of trip-hop on a cloudy winter’s day. Nancy Andersen’s voice is an icy river, cool and steady, and I can’t help but imagine that somewhere Imogen Heap and Dido both look up and smile every time I press play on Babeheaven’s music. Even within Babeheaven’s sonic world, “Cassette Beat” has a particularly cinematic sensibility about it. Is the track setting the scene for a post-break-up montage with shots of West London? Or does it accompany a victorious breakthrough panoramic of the English countryside? The slow, bittersweet hit of each snare allows for either in equal measure. In the chorus, Andersen sings, “Behind the cloud there’s a blue sky.” But as for how long the clouds will stick around today—that depends what chapter of your story you’re on.

Slow Dress is the Boston-based duo of Katie Solomon and Bredon Jones. Together they craft contemplative indie-folk songs. Their latest single, “Butterfly,” promises a life saturated with feeling. It is a commitment to experience everything fully, no matter how uncomfortable. “I don’t want to follow their feet. I want bare toes even in the snow and the sleet,” Solomon sings, dedicating herself to the necessary discomfort that comes with open awareness. Better frostbitten than oblivious, she insists. In a statement accompanying the release of “Butterfly,” the band wrote, “...it’s about watching people, especially those with money and privilege, close their hearts and minds to what is happening in the world.” The song illuminates the possibilities that emerge when we turn our focus outward. The butterfly in question isn’t taking flight; its body is fixed to the kitchen wall, like a pressed flower in a frame. “Admire,” Solomon urges, and for a moment, you pause to do just that. “Butterfly” is available for purchase and streaming, with half of all proceeds going to National Bail Out, Black & Pink, and mutual aid funds.