If you’ve ever had the pleasure of seeing Grace Ludmila perform live, then you know that she is a force to be reckoned with onstage—full of motion and emotion, and musically creating something unique and authentic that comes straight from the heart. Having described performance as “the ultimate catharsis,” Ludmila puts her whole self into her music, raw and real from start to finish. This is especially true of her latest single release, “Hollow,” which is heavy on guitar and packed with gut-wrenching lyrics. Ludmila is an expert in metaphor, and she sings a series of them as a means of expressing the dissonance between expectation and reality. She is “not a dream,” but “sleep paralysis;" she is “not soft, not smooth like porcelain” but “a fleshy mass of skin that you pick off when you can’t stand to see it again.” The rhythm and structure of the song reflect this dissonance as Ludmila makes her own rules, often adding onto these metaphors beyond where the ear expects them to end. “Hollow” is a proud admission of imperfection, a refusal to live life according to others’ ideals, and, ultimately, an expression of self-love and self-respect.

Ludmila’s influences range from the singer-songwriter scene in Austin, TX, where she began her music career and released an EP at age 12, to the punk artists she discovered later and her time in New York, where she is currently based. She also does a “Say My Name” cover that will make your jaw drop. Ludmila is currently working on her debut full-length album.

Mykki Blanco taps Devendra Banhart to craft a sonic meditation to soothe our minds with “You Will Find It.” FaltyDL’s avant-pop production seamlessly meshes the best of Blanco’s flow with Banhart’s psychedelic folk sensibility. Originally intended to be an interlude, after hearing Banhart’s contributions from soft vocals to hand chimes, Blanco and FaltyDL felt it necessary to flesh out a full track. Said Blanco, “[Banhart] is now in the blood of the song, he’s a part of the composition.” They rap of lighting sage and Palo Santo, perhaps not unfamiliar scents in our own homes over the past few months, reminding me of the Palo Santo my roommate mailed to me in a COVID care package. Blanco insists on self-care as an act of quiet defiance in Lady Gaga and mink lashes. “Alice Coltrane and some ganja” sets a scene for a tranquil moment in our otherwise anxiety-ridden days, finding effortless joy: “Yeah, that’s all I need.” Seeking to explore and demystify spirituality, about the track, Blanco declared simply, "I should be able to smoke a joint with God and just chill a bit.” Though no title or release date has been announced yet, "You Will Find It" is set to be on their upcoming second record, likely alongside Soundcloud single "PATRIARCHY AINT THE END OF ME."

In the quest for cultural empathy, one of the most essential immersions into learning is, plainly, food. But, this song is much more than just a listing of various foods, it is an invitation into the heart of Puerto-Rican American culture. Leading us in with playful keys, Princess Nokia’s “Soul Food Y Adobo” is a celebration of her Puerto Rican heritage. Starting out with a punchy first verse: “You need to season your chicken, we ain’t like them folks in here”, Princess Nokia assures us that we are being invited into the arms of a flourishing culture with deep interconnected roots in spirituality, food, and lifestyle. “Soul Food Y Adobo” is a song that will leave you craving the warmth and comfort of home, and food that could never be bland.

"This Hill" is a miniature masterpiece off of Apparition, a new EP by serpentwithfeet— Baltimore-born Josiah Wise. This song is like a Fabergé egg—covered in intricate details, a glow emanating from within, a multitude of secrets held within its simple shape. The foundation is a prepared piano and a humming chorus so delicate and precise. A touch of bass, a few notes plucked lightly on a harp. And Wise’s stunning falsetto vocals singing about his heavy steps up the hill to a place of serenity. “Some days I wanna run,” he sings. Then the chorus comes in, a layering of Wise’s own voice that sounds like heavenly angels in a church choir led by J.S. Bach. “What is the matter? Don’t get no sadder. I’m better now,” the many voices sing, in a Baroque-inspired vocal arrangement. "This Hill" draws on influences clearly grounded within the traditional Western canon but still sounds current and so very resonant. After all, aren’t we all climbing our own hills, day after day, searching for that lightness in our feet that will allow us to just run?

“Too Big for the Glory Hole” is said to be partially inspired by Florine Stettheimer’s painting The Cathedrals of Wall Street, a nod to New York City’s secular shrines. It’s a song about loneliness, and wondering whether you’re cut out for this world and all its capitalistic energies. “I want you to love me forever,” repeats Mackenzie Scott, who performs under the moniker TORRES, in a clear but controlled tone. Despite the minimalist production, it’s an outro that holds weight. It’s simultaneously intense and delicate; it feels private but declarative. It edges into holy terrain.

I was hooked by Clarence James’s track “But Naw” from its jazz-infused opening chords. The Austin-based guitarist, songwriter and producer melds hip-hop, jazz and indie rock influences into a laid-back style animated by excellent guitar work. This track exemplifies his ability to repurpose established chord progressions in a fresh context—a process he calls “stealing chords from dead jazz musicians”—which makes it feel simultaneously classic and innovative. The arrangement is fairly stripped-back, and the seamless interlocking of the guitar and drums serves to highlight James’s musicianship and lyrics. “But Naw” describes shifting allegiances and mistrust with humor: “Should’ve known when she got them bangs she was changin’.” The frustration here is evident, but the chorus is punctuated by defiance when James sings, “I don’t give a shit ‘bout what you say,” and the song cracks wide open. “But Naw” is included on Clarence James’s debut LP, Fucked Me Up, out today on Bandcamp. In recognition of Juneteenth and the movement for Black lives, all proceeds from the LP during its first week on the platform will be donated to Black Lives Matterand Austin Justice Coalition.

"Bloom" by Jessy Rose is a satisfying and cinematic track full of saucy chromaticism. Rose’s voice rests tantalizingly on leading tones, building tension and release that keeps you on the edge of your seat. The verses show off the song's jazzy piano ballad base which delivers goosebumps and sounds reminiscent of John Legend. The chorus is augmented by a blend of synthetic effects and syncopated percussion that gets increasingly dense as the song progresses. Meanwhile, Rose’s voice slides effortlessly in falsetto and swoops back down to cradle in the middle of the piano line. By the time you reach the end of the 2:50 minute track, you feel like you’ve sat through an entire feature film. Suddenly, you notice that you haven’t had a single thought about anything else for almost 3 minutes. Bloom’s dense chromatic universe—simultaneously subverting expectation and resolving with a sense of inevitability—absorbed you completely. Now released, you feel ready to emerge from the dark theater—blinking into the sunlight and feeling slightly changed.

A delicate elegy, "Gaslight" is a stunning new offering from Ntu. It opens with a stutter, making us check that our headphones are working, but yes, they are, it’s just Ntu ushering us into his world of uncertainty. Each layer of ambient sounds—metallic whooshes and creaking floors—is laid down with the precision of a painter adding soft strokes to an intricate canvas. We are in the haunted house of Ntu and his lover, each daring the other to “gaslight me, then leave." It’s a world of pleasure and pain. The electronic kick drum is the slow beating heart of the lovers who want to make something work even while enjoying the dysfunction: “my love can hold you down / it’s like a million birds / around your neck, dead / weight, don’t leave me.” Ntu’s voice melts into the soundscape, a hushed whisper-song coming at us in all directions, then singing in tandem with the other vocalist with simple but luscious harmonies. We are subsumed, and we love it.

London-based artist Zilo’s latest track sings as a diary page that has been left open on purpose. “Tell Her” is an open-letter plea to a lover to let go of an ex, while also offering the reflection that she should just trust her partner and let it go. Jealousy is a tricky emotion and Zilo’s exploration of this conflicting feeling is heightened by the sultry R&B bass grooves and staggered percussion leading us through her thoughts. Produced by Bowtye, the smallest detail of delicate chimes in the background sound eerily similar to a text tone and give the listener a tinge of anxiety similar to what you might feel if you were worried about a partner and someone they’re talking to. A slowed edit of the song was released alongside the original, which gives Zilo a more androgynous tone that seems exhausted by the stress of the unknown. “Tell Her” is the third single in a string of soulful releases from Zilo this year.