Brooklyn post-punk quartet S.C.A.B. firmly establish their laid-back jangle-friendly sound on debut Beauty & Balance. Interweaving, bright guitar arpeggios, rife with treble, create a harmonious backdrop for vocalist and songwriter Sean Camargo’s freeform vocal performance, one that modulates between aggressive sing speak (“Negroni Week”) and sliding slack-jawed melodies (“Beauty”). The synthesis of these two elements keeps the record fresh throughout its eight tracks, an engaging blend of lo-fi, instrumentally-driven pop and new-wave inspired vox. Give it a listen below, and catch the band at Jones Beach Cafe & Bar on March 6th, supporting Plight.

Following her recent signing to Infinite Companion, New York synthpop tour de force Mïrändä returns with a new series of anthemic electronic singles, her latest offering “Stay” a powerfully energetic meditation on desperation and hope, desire and love. The track (and accompanying video) cinematically present the drama inherent to Mïrändä’s craft — amidst rapid, driving percussion and baroque synthetic accents, she writhes in religious dress and extinguishes prayer candles, adding a level of well-curated melodrama to her ovation-worthy vocal performance. The visual’s final scene of the artist, gazing towards the camera, adorned with a ceremonial headdress, hauntingly conveys the mixed feelings that informed the single, her stare an indiscernible mix of long and self-assuredness, a picturesque, Kubrickian conclusion. Watch and listen in our premiere below. Photo by Jonah Lorsung

It’s hard not to feel lonely when listening to Sign of the Good Times, the latest full-length by New York-based songwriter Tim Barr. Even as the backing instrumentation swells to fill the room with his somber blend of indie and folk, Barr’s iconic vocal performance is hushed and reclusive, a product of both his process (the record was self-produced on tape in the artist’s apartment) and of his philosophy in writing the record, which serves as an exercise in “accepting and appreciating the totality of human experience as it is.” It’s this approach that makes Good Times an evenhanded resonant record, with Barr willing to dwell on differing memories — snapshots of playing baseball and kissing in the rain (“I Become Everything”) are presented in tandem with recollections of lost love (“Wolves”). The end result is a deeply human release, a mixed bag of feelings and emotions, presented by an isolated narrator looking outwards, trying to make sense of it all the best that he can; listen to it below when you’re trying to do the same. —Connor Beckett McInerney

Mexico City by-way-of New York quartet Frege return with the spacey “Disentwine,” bringing along vocalist Simon Balthazar (Hieronymous) to provide a light, lounging performance over the outfit’s shuffling progressive pop. Inspired by bouts of “depression and imobilizing apathy,” the transnational band embed sparse, distant synths and meandering bass into their new offering, inducing feelings of dissociation broken only by the odd keyboard tickle and a last minute drive that employs the song’s various disparate components into a short instrumental vamp, all before slowly fading to black. Despite the social isolation present, there’s a palpable warmthin “Disentwine,” due in large part to the group’s preference for analog machines, which paired with its vocal elements creates an interesting dissonance, a feeling of being present but not actually there, per se. Give this sleeper bop a stream below as you mull whether to go out or stay in.

New York trio the Ehems carefully thread the needle between indie and garage on “Eh Eh Hem,” gleefully demonstrating their love of fuzz and Kodak film in the track’s visual component. Beginning on a gainful riff and concluding with a vague, repeating mantra that continues throughout the song’s two and a half minute runtime, the three person outfit drive and groove, leaving room for muted, overdriven instrumental segues. No bells and whistles to be found, their focus on creating energetic rock highlights the band’s desire to embody the city’s history of fervent, guitar-centric music, as evidenced by their recently released VHS live-show compilation. Give it a spin below, and head out to Berlin on February 6th for their first show of the new decade.

Noah Chenfeld further cements his status as New York’s brutally honest troubadour with new offering “Late.” Expanding beyond the upbeat cynicism of last year’s “I Love Being Tired,” his latest track is a dark lamentation on the eggs broken to make an omelette; brooding organ riffs accent Chenfeld’s crooned aphorisms, bitter statements on unsavory choices and necessary evils. Amidst these dejected declaratives is Chenfeld’s brand of vintage-inspired indie — driving guitars and gain-heavy vox embed “Late” with a classic sound, further driving home the timeless nature of the song’s themes, the adversity inherent to modern living. Drink it in with our premiere below.

There’s no rest for antifolk folk hero Talulah Paisley, who over the last three months has made a consistent habit of releasing engaging-yet-muted singles on Bandcamp, manifesting a mood board of introverted, off-the-cuff observations that showcase her prowess as an insightful songwriter. “Call” is the latest entry to this sonic scrapbook, a soft slow jam marked by a careening vocal performance against a steady acoustic accompaniment. Present are the somber similes we’ve come to expect from Paisely’s uniquely folksy craft (“squish me like your third grade putty”) amongst impressionistic observations of heartbreak — paired together, they create a grounded recollection of love and loss that makes a seemingly intangible sadness feel painfully real. Stream it below ahead of her February 10th performance at Mercury Lounge alongside Razor Braids and Dolphin Pal. —Connor Beckett McInerney, Photo by Julie Orlick

A pleasant springlike sound permeates Jeremy Gustin’s electronica offerings on Mere Husk, the latest LP he’s recorded under The Ah moniker. Perhaps its the tactile percussive elements on tracks like “The Factory Girl” and “Watermelon Tears” that feel like a more grounded Animal Collective b-side, or the pleasant twang accompanying keys on “Just Relief” that resonate as charming and homegrown, the type of soundtrack for a weekend bike ride around Greenpoint or a walk in Prospect Park. Regardless of which specific instrumental accents endow the record with its bouncing, verdant energy, the summation of Gustin’s varied synthetic process makes for a colorful release, one that showcases a keen ear for abstraction, creative melodies, and off-kilter sounds. Give it a listen below before the rest of the album drops this Friday (on NNA Tapes), or attend the album listening party at Step Bone Cut on February 1st.

The wicked, envious crooner is an old character in the book of rhythm and blues, and Sean Carroll is the latest performer to don the costume. New aptly titled single “Jealousy” embodies a lasting R&B tradition, made more contemporary by Carroll’s inclination towards confrontational guitar work, yet with distinct classic influences — still present are a roaming organ groove and a sauntering percussive beat. Fans of more recent R&B outfits like the Black Keys and Jack White will find “Jealousy” accommodatingly vintage and chock full of soul — give it a listen below (preferably with cigarette and whiskey in hand).

Memories have a way of shifting and transfiguring the past, creating picture shows in the mind that, while fictionalized, are still “based on a true story.” Such mental Kodaks inform the track “Sideways” by NYC-based the Gloomies, a collection of acid-bathed footnotes, rife with recollections of black lights and clear perfumes. It’s a fitting tune given the Gloomies’ recent relocation to Brooklyn from Southern California that the first single from the project’s forthcoming LP Romance would be a psych-pop yarn from their last summer; crunchy vox and meandering guitars abound on this track, placing it squarely between the sounds of artists like Ariel Pink and the thematic overtones of Thomas Pynchon’s Inherent Vice. Listen to this tastefully far-out track below. —Connor Beckett McInerney

Album rollout cycles have become increasingly creative in recent years — while 2020 is very much still in its waxing period, we tip our hats to Hillary Capps’ forthcoming album, The Way Back Home, for its slow unveiling in coordination with our sister Moon. Releasing in four parts in tandem with the four lunar cycles (new, waxing, full, and waning) and over the course of the year’s first five months, the tracks themselves slowly illuminate Capps’ penchant for lush indie pop and introspective lyricism. Home’s inaugural New Moon cycle presents listeners with two tracks (“Slow Motion” and “You Could Be The Moon,”), songs centered around beginnings, both setting the stage with their respective rising, dramatic builds, offset by spacey guitar work and shuffling grooves. Those interested in following the record’s rollout can presave it on Spotify, and those seeking a celestial listening experience can catch Hillary Capps at Rockwood Music Hall, Stage 2, on January 25th.

Godspeed, the latest offering by NYC indie quartet Shadow Year, is an ode to the fast-changing nature of city living, a collection of vignettes expressed through synth and guitar-centric indie, backed by instrumentation that encapsulates an energy chaotic and wistful. Whether the band is recounting seeing your crush while waiting for the J Train on opener “For The Weekend,” or longing for the unattainable on the release’s title track, the EP is bound together by the quotidian, universal struggles of living in New York, underscored by a swelling, occasionally discordant playing. A healthy dose of contemporary punk, slacker, and post-rock, Godspeed’s sound is expressive and raw, yet never unhinged, a collection of tunes for anyone who’s keeping it together under pressure (which is, to say, most of us). Listen below, and see Shadow Year at Trans Pecos tonight, January 23rd. —Connor Beckett McInerney