New York experimental pop outfit Los Cumpleaños subvert expectations on new EP Agua, making for an exciting, thoroughly novel release that modulates between styles conventional and avant-garde (and back again). While each of the extended play’s four tracks finds its footing a heavy Cumbia rhythm, heady synth leads and expressive brassy fanfares quickly fill in the space, lending a psychedelic atmosphere which, combined with double time segues, create an ecstatic, joyful energy throughout the effort’s roughly 23 minute run-time. Moreover, Los Cumpelaños synthesis of elements old and new enables electronic experimentation, while retaining elements of traditional Colombian music, in a manner that feels both contemporary and classic — more importantly, it’s an EP that’s nearly impossible not to dance to. Recommended for fans of artists like Sun Ra, Flying Lotus, Animal Collective (or anywhere in between), stream our premiere of this rousing release below. Photo by Brennan Cavanaugh

It’s hard to tell who’s the subject of Grace Ludmila’s rage on new track “Hollow,” a punk-influenced indie takeover wherein the artist admonishes all who think they can put her in a box. Much of Ludmila’s lyricism over the the song’s four minute runtime uses a variety of dialectics to determine, more so, who the artist isn’t rather than what she is — lyrics such as “I’m not your therapy, don’t hand your trauma to me” and “I’m not on a movie screen, don’t project your shit on me” seem to direct their anger towards both listeners who may claim to have Ludmila “all figured out,” or critics who think they can ascertain her true motivations through circumstancial evidence. In the end, however, Lumdila’s series of first-person statements serve as a kind of manifesto on the self, a laundry list of metaphors and proclamations that do a much better job at telling you who she is than whatever bullshit observations I’ll type up here — on that note, stream it (loudly) below. —Connor Beckett McInerney

There’s a smattering of genre-influences on Something Softly Caught Me, the new album by north Jersey indie outfit Quality Living, that really don’t make sense on paper, yet congeal over the record’s half-hour runtime to make for an energetic, incredibly fun listen. Namely, the crux of Something lies in Quality Living’s synthesis of slack jawed 90s alternative with the blue tones of late 70s-early 80s jazz rock, making for an LP that modulates between being both fast and loose or deliberate and polished. All this said, it somehow, someway works — Quality Living deliver dissociative wordplay in tandem with grooving Wurlitzer keys (“Pretty down”), and scuzzy guitar-driven ballads suddenly give way for saxophone segues (“Kite Violit”) to create a cohesive piece of work for fans of Stephen Malkmus and Walter Becker alike. Stream it below.

Hey! Remember live music? Me neither! But hypothetically wouldn’t it be cool to see all of your favorite local acts perform when this whole thing blows over? Then it’s important — nay, imperative(!) — to support your scene, now more than ever.

To that end, we recommend you buy a beer (or six) from Our Wicked Lady, allowing you to support a premier independent venue while discovering some new music in the process. Every delivery order from O.W.L. comes with a postcard enabling access to one of five curated (and banging) playlists, enabling you imbibe responsibly (at home) while getting absolutely throttled to some local bands (many of whom have been previously featured on The Deli NYC).

Moreover you’ll be supporting one of the best performance and recording spaces New York has to offer while rocking a nice buzz. O.W.L. has booked a number of bands that we love, and held an absolutely killer Battle of the Bands this past winter. Support the scene, discover new music, and obtain libations — it’s that simple.

 It’s hard to be optimistic about the future these days for any shortage of reasons (that needn’t be listed in this piece for fear of inducing a panic attack for both writer and reader), yet Rhys Tivey embeds a steady resolve in new single “Hopes.” With a strong emphasis on chilled synth and bright horns, Tivey’s falsetto details love’s ability to overcome in terms sentimental, ever aware of the obstacles inherent to being together forever while expressing a desire to weather the storm (“while no one really believes in forever, can we stay together forever?”). Moreover, the track’s grand designs and emotive theming are drawn back by a minimalist approach to production, wherein accent vocals and trumpet lines seemingly float in and out frame, inducing a dream like quality reminiscent of acts like Rhye and San Fermin. Give it a listen below, and keep an out for Tivey’s debut record, out later this spring.

It only takes a few moments of listening to Brooklyn experimental rock trio Bug Fight for their creeping guitar work and shifting time signatures to induce a deep, thoroughly engaging discomfort, and new video for track “Eggling” serves as an apt visual representation of what makes the band’s dark tunes tick. Contrasting scenes of traditional middle Americana and rough-hewn (yet aesthetically stirring) individuals in insect costumes cinematically evokes the style of late 70s-early 80s horror — think Texas Chainsaw Massacre meets Invasion of the Body Snatchers by way of A24. Such elements reinforce the plainspoken eeriness inherent to the track’s abiding refrain (“It’s egg laying time”) while reinforcing its discordant, nearly cacophonous instrumentation, building drama up until the visual’s unhappy, deeply satisfying conclusion. Moreover it further cements Bug Fight’s status as some of the weirdest, coolest musicians working in NYC today — watch the video (directed by Matthew Marino) below.

It’s likely, during these very strange times, your mind is racing a mile a minute, trying to account for all the variables inherent just to just living throughout a generation-defining event. These thoughts inform the core of “Trying to Stay Alive,” the new single by indie pop artist Robert Leslie, which offers a pragmatic sketch of the mental gymnastics we all practice as we attempt to go about life as normal. Thankfully, Leslie’s evenhanded lyricism is offset by sunny acoustic strumming, upbeat walking bass, and muted horns, all of which provide a 70s-like energy that feels straight from the McCartney songbook. In all, it gives “Trying” with a triumphant energy, and makes for a small celebration of getting through another day — and isn’t that worth celebrating? Give it a listen below. Photo by Emmanual Rosario

Shuffling melancholy abides on “Stay Late,” the new single by New York-by-way-of-Providence songwriter Jay Rosie, the type of track that feels rooted in sadness, yet focused on a bright, indeterminable future. Such energy comes in large part from its muted percussion and momentum-inducing acoustic strumming, endowing it with a soft rock sound reminiscent of Fleetwood Mac circa Rumours, or in more recent years, Faye Webster’s Atlanta Millionaires Club. Above this interplay glides Rosie’s vox, restrained at first yet increasingly emotive over the track’s chorus, wherein she details, in terms uncertain, pitfalls of codependency and the desire to not have to face the day’s trials on one’s own — a fitting subject matter in a time in which many are reaching out for a connection. Stream it below, and check out for Jay Rosie’s debut EP Soft but Not Weak, out now. —Connor Beckett McInerney

Mother’s Day can be a surprisingly reflective holiday — wherein we not only celebrate moms, but perhaps consider the necessary sacrifices inherent to parenthood. Songwriter Iris Lune commemorates her own late mother in new track “Note to Self,” released yesterday, in manners electronic and folky. A tactile, innovative indie pop single with elements evocative of Passion Pit, its instrumentals dramatically build to an explosive, emotive tribute, lyrically detailing grief and loss amongst punching drums and glittering synth. Such an effort serves well hidden nature of this past Sunday, and makes for a sentimental (and at times, soul stirring) listen; stream it below (and call your mom), and keep an eye out for Lune’s forthcoming LP lovelosslove dropping June 5th. Photo by Nir Aireli

“God keeps rushing through your fingers, as the hour of life slowly disappears.” Such cryptic statements are an old hat for New York psych performer LUKKA, who on new song “Feed Me” splits the difference between the metaphysical and tangible through an engrossing mix of electronic and psychedelic. Notably more synth-driven than the project’s 2018 debut ENCOUNTER, the track’s momentum is found in an abiding, lively arpeggio and strengthened by lush, echoing power chords evocative of outfits like Unknown Mortal Orchestra and POND. This blend keeps things grounded yet atmospheric, incorporating the right amount of psych headiness and keyboard-friendly indie; such instrumentation also provides the perfect space for LUKKA’s free-form lyricism, a spacey falsetto that modulates between themes empirical and spiritual (and which inevitably become entangled in the track’s later half). You can stream the track now, as well as watch its visuals (created by artists Simone Brillarelli and Nicola Giorgio) below.

I described Boot’s self-titled EP from last year as an effort that focused predominantly on indoor drama — both the cozy and the stiflingly uncomfortable — so it’s fitting their new single would drop in the middle of an extended period spent inside. Predominantly acoustic (with some nice slide guitar accents noodling among the instrumentation), new track “Bomb Song” deals with a comfortable day at home upended by the news of an incoming missile, though its characters seem to take the news in stride, opting to cuddle, watch movies, and go to bed ahead of their immediate incineration. Such interactions seem par for the course for songwriter and multi-instrumentalist Benjamin Carbone; much in the same way the various premises of the tracks on 2019’s Boot are overshadowed by a focus on human behaviors, “Bomb Song” is able to set aside news of a forthcoming apocalypse and emphasize the much greater importance the people in our lives have in comparison. It’s a quiet soundtrack for human companionship, the type of sensitive songwriting that’s necessary during our very strange times — stream it below. —Connor Beckett McInerney

The music of Queens-based musician Tall Juan frequently eludes genre-descriptors, ever the joyful amalgamation of sounds contemporary and classic, performed in a manner that’s wholly unique. His new single “Irene” is representative of this wide-breadth of influences; a freak-folk instrumental provides the backbone for a modern interpretation of Caetano Veloso’s 1969 track, wherein Juan Zaballa’s vox leaps and bounds with energy reminiscent of his previous garage-rock efforts, albeit this time decidedly more acoustic. Such an approach is demonstrative of Zaballa’s ethos for his forthcoming LP Atlantico, a collage of differing sounds and languages that ultimately pays tribute to the influence of African music in South America. Give it a listen below, ahead of Atlantico’s release next week on May 11th. Photo by Matthew James-Wilson