If there were ever a time to question the wholly unjust nature of our universe, it would be the last two months — thankfully, New York songwriter and multi-instrumentalist Jack Symes provides a pleasant downtempo indie meditation on the unfairness of our current pandemic via new video “Cool God.” Over mellow muted chords and easygoing percussion, Symes’ nasally vox questions the decision-making process of our Creator, asking at the track’s beginning, “do you ever look down below at your children in sorrow, and think ‘what have you done?’” Symes continues to parse recommendations to the Great I Am, including but not limited to having a smoke and sharing a “cold one” with the various angels and saints. It’s through this irreverent narration that Symes hits on a note many of us our likely thinking — something to the extent of “Jesus Christ, could we get a break for once?” — albeit communicated in laid-back manner that may provide a necessary, chill reprieve from the hyper-seriousness of the present. Watch it below.

If you’ve ever met a person who’s watched American Psycho or The Wolf of Wall Street so many times that he begins to admire the main character, Manhattan dance punk group Hennessey has a song for you. New track “(Let’s Pretend) It’s the 80s” is a new wave-infused bop, brimming with Talking Heads-like guitar work and scaled back synth that are deftly interwoven, yet feel minimalistic in comparison to principal songwriter (and band namesake) Leah Hennessey’s larger-than-life vocal performance. While the single is propelled by singable hooks and a concise format, its glitzy production is a shiny veneer for the track’s disapproval of wonton greed — amid its various grooving parts, bitingly sardonic lyricism abounds (“let’s love like we love money”). That being said, parts of the track resonate as a simultaneous satirization, and celebration, of the Reagan Years, wholeheartedly leaning into a vintage aesthetic while presenting contemporary nostalgia as white washing the decade’s unsavory elements. In all it makes for a brutally clever ear worm, one that Patrick Bateman would likely describe as “a song so catchy, most people probably don’t listen to the lyrics — but they should.” Stream it below. —Connor Beckett McInerney, Photo by Mike Martinez

Listening to New Topographics, the latest full length by Brooklyn drummer and composer Matt Evans, is oddly reminiscent of the experience of watching an ASMR YouTube video; it’s various percussive textures and cool synths are tactile and tingle-inducing, yet the timbre rarely rises above that of a whisper. This muted quality is what makes Evans’ most recent effort the alluring record that it is, a space wherein the artist deftly navigates quietude drum-first, ever heightening the energy through polyrhythmic breaks and employing electronic instrumentals in a manner that compliment, yet never overshadow his rhythm-forward approach. Standout tracks “Spinning Blossoms” and “Jaich Maa” well demonstrate this interweaving of elements, evocative of the ambient artists like Hiroshi Yoshimura yet decidedly more movement-oriented — even on Topographics tamer tracks, Evans’ intrepid percussion enables a forward momentum that keeps things consistently interesting. Give it a listen below, and catch Matt Evans (along with other Whatever’s Clever artists) on Twitch this Friday, May 1st for the label’s May Day Extravaganza. —Connor Beckett McInerney

Slowcore outfit Joyer’s new split EP finds the North Jersey duo leaning further into their unhurried, speaker-crunching sound, providing two tracks replete with innovative lyricism and roughly-hewn guitars. Recording alongside North Carolina’s Aunt Ant (formerly of NYC) and Toronto’s Poor You, their tracks “Juniper” and “In Time” are trudging, at times uneasy drone rock— band members Nick and Shane’s unison sing-speak provides hazy non sequiturs (“I hear the mosquitos when they bite down,” “I’m a ghost-running backlight) alongside stuttering chord progressions and trudging rhythmic breaks. The end result is an engaging mix of slacker rock wordplay and discordant instrumentation, both boisterous in its separate parts yet quiet in execution, and a sound that will resonate with fans of Red House Painters and LVL UP. Give it a listen below. —Connor Beckett McInerney

 Brooklyn multi-instrumentalist anjali.rose hones in on the unnerving quietude of life under quarantine in new single “Reach For It,” featuring Noah Drielblatt, a atmospheric offering that melds swirling synths with guitar-driven songwriting. Methodical acoustic arpeggios, underscored by murky electronic instrumentation, provide background for Rose and Drielblatt’s hushed vox — a centering performance amid a sea of disorienting (and at times disconcerting) ambient accents. In this way, Rose conveys a quiet in the eye of the storm, an indoors meditation while the outside world is marked by muted chaos and the occasional ambulance siren (which joins the sonic tapestry towards the song’s conclusion); in many ways, “Reach For It” mirrors our own individual efforts to maintain some degree of composure throughout the strange times we’re living. Give it a listen below, and check out the rest of the tracks on the Quarantena Contigo mixtape, which features a slew of international artists and highlights the Musicians’ Emergency Relief Fund, who are providing micro-grants to working musicians seeking relief throughout COVID-19.

Much like its lunar namesake, “The Moon Is Full” waxes gradually from the quiet piano and somber vocal performance of singer-songwriter Mare Berger to full chamber-pop instrumentation, becoming luminescent while maintaining a central, melancholy energy. The track, centered around Berger’s vox and lyricism, details the “sudden loss of a loved one and the pain and healing that comes after,” its impassioned theme amplified by the track’s increasingly expansive instrumentation — “I pray that the seed will grow,” Berger sings, their voice becoming more confident, transitioning from raw pain to acceptance as cinematic background strings expand in a flush of raw emotion. Dramatically-rendered yet wholly human, it’s an arresting effort, one that promises more raw, orchestral offerings on Berger’s forthcoming LP The Moon is Always Full, out June 5th — until then, stream the single below. Photo by Ilusha Tsinazde

Mixing a health dose of early 00s alternative and riot grrrl energy (with a raucous electronic bent), Brooklyn’s New Myths return with new track “Bad Connection,” a scorching, take-no-prisoners ride. Lyrically marked by free associative imagery that evokes the general restlessness at the track’s core (descriptions of television static and disease abound), Bad Myths instrumentally charge forward, offsetting their often grunge-y subject matter with sunburnt power chords, dynamic vocal gymnastics, and pervasive synth arpeggios. Such contrast allows the band to truly hone their strengths, primarily their ability to create rock that’s both crusty and glitzy, channeling a punk subject matter in a way that’s more polished than most (while maintaining that indefatigable spirit). Recommended for fans of groups like Sleater Kinney and the B-52s, stream the single below, and keep an eye out for the group’s forthcoming EP “All the Shiny Things” out later this year. Original photo by Andrew Segreti

“No matter where you go you will still feel the same,” croons Brooklyn-based songwriter Allegra Krieger on new single “The Push and the Pull,” a prescient line for a young artist, but one that evokes the century long folk tradition of charting the human condition through emotive, guitar-forward music. Paired with a downtempo shuffle and a winding vocal performance, Krieger unravels a tale of romantic discord, her narrative accented by the odd acoustic arpeggio or electric noodling — such sparse-yet-noticeable instrumentation maintains the track’s forward momentum, without detracting from its central voice. Moreover, this balanced interplay between instrument and voice imparts an atmosphere of Americana, which paired with Krieger’s wistful, bittersweet lyricism evokes comparisons to the crafts of indie folk performers such as Adrianne Lenker and Jason Molina — give it a listen below, via Northern Spy Records. Photo by Liz Maney

In these trying times wherein every club and bar this side of the Hudson is shuttered indefinitely, we need a bop, a slapper, a two-step inducing jam to keep the party-in-place going. Thankfully, a champion emerges in the form of producer-songwriter-multihpyhenate Tatum Gale, whose new track “Joanna” provides the necessary downtempo vibe for a socially responsible indoor kickback. Vocalist Laura Jinn takes centerstage, with a sultry performance unraveling an indoor tale of unrequited love, soft-spoken both in its narrative and supporting production; shimmering keys and a chilled percussive beat make for a hazy instrumental that evokes feelings past, consistently minimalist yet always present and grooving. Reminiscent of the scaled-back atmospheric instrumentals heard on Yaeji’s EP2 and the progressive, dance-forward chillstep of Toro y Moi, it’s required listening for those among us with restless feet, seeking some necessary motion-inducing music — stream our premiere below, and keep an eye out for Gale’s sophomore EP Both dropping May 1st.

Jersey City songwriter and producer Amy Rage debuts her maximalist sound on new anthem “Doin’ It Right,” a dazzling showcase of synth-driven indie pop with nods to 80s femme forerunners such as Madonna and Blondie. A singular product of the artist’s existential crisis earlier this year, induced by the slog of the 9-5 and feelings of office-bound inertia, Rage turned to a small MIDI controller and a makeshift home studio to craft a vibrant sonic escape from the malaise. Hammering synthesizers and a strong emphasis on larger-the-life vocals, alongside emotional lyricism stressing how the right person can render the world’s sanity inane, propel this saturated electronic bop forward, delivering a single evocative of pop’s past and present stylings. Recommended for fans Charli XCX and Perfume Genius, stream our premiere below, and keep an eye out for Amy Rage’s forthcoming debut EP out later this year.

The baroque-pop sensibilities of New York trio Bandits on the Run well make for cinematic music — with vivacious cello lines intertwining with acoustic guitar, and three part harmonies as a centerpiece, there’s a goosebumps-inducing element to their tunes, a plethora of hair-raising moments wherein the band’s distinct parts emerge from quietude into a full, sunny sound. It’s fitting then that their newest single, “Love in the Underground,” was released alongside a nine minute short film for which the track serves as score (and in which the band serves as background players), enabling listeners and viewers to become swept up by the band’s dynamic, driving performance. Visually charting two strangers (actors Jason Gotay and Michael Hartung, themselves a couple IRL) falling in love on the subway, their dialogue is told primarily through choreography and music, a conversation which spans several station stops along the L and the East Williamsburg streets, before settling in at an atmospheric speakeasy — where the film visually enters its second act. Transitioning from an upbeat, primarily string-forward approach to the tone of a piano-driven ballad, Bandits on the Run re-emerge in the bar to perform a slower, more somber rendition of the track, creating a visual and sonic B-side to the entire production that builds to this featurette’s heartfelt climax. An impressive endeavor by any metric, aided by production from veteran companies Chucklehead and Must B Nice and choreography from co-director Lane Halperin, it’s required, sweetly succinct viewing in a time where love might seem far away — though it could just be one train car over. Watch it below. Photo by Fletcher Wolfe

From 2016 to 2019, Jacob Levine toiled away at his new EP friends and a half, summer forever and ever on his iPhone, creating a loose conceptual record about a summer spent indoors — “because of depression and all,” in Levine’s own words. The end result is a crushing, intimate lofi release under the moniker jake or luca that’s filled with entrancing songwriting and melodious vocal performances, one that captures the dulling nature of mental illness in terms lush and bright. Charting the experience of untethered day-to-day living (“dreaming”) or the creeping feeling you’re letting someone else down (“bet you would”) through primarily acoustic guitar and the human voice, Levine’s craft is nuanced and meticulous, able to render malaise in a manner that’s both deeply personal and universal; snapshots of binging television and imagining the ghost of Zelda Fitzgerald find themselves situated within an ongoing internal monologue detailing an abiding hope things will get better, and the corollary fear that they won’t. Moreover, the record’s production, which features Levine’s layered vox front and center with occasional ambient synth, furthers its confessional qualities while lending a reassuring warmth to each of its six tracks. Recommended listening for fans of (Sandy) Alex G or Sufjan Stevens’ Carrie & Lowell, give it a thoughtful listen below. —Connor Beckett McInerney