Lowertown, the duo comprised of Olivia Osby and Avsha Weinberg, are excited to release their new single “Seaface”. This is the first song from their upcoming EP The Gaping Mouth. Osby and Weinberg spent time in London recording the EP “that they call their most honest, interesting, and mature work to date”. “Seaface” is a tune that combines dreamy lyrics with music that builds from a single guitar to a full mix.
Pick what you want to be, It can be anything. If you close your eyes, It’s fun to imagine Another body, another life.
Despite the constraints of the pandemic, 2020 proved to be a productive time for the pair of 19-year-olds – they graduated high school (where they met in math class), signed to label Dirty Hit and released their EP Honeycomb, Bedbug. 2021 looks like it could be as big a year for Lowertown.
While we wait with bated breath for Jessica Luise’s debut EP, Going in Blind, to release on July 9th, the stunning songstress has given us some ear candy to play with until then. A light, 90’s rock-inspired track, “a.m.” begins at the same clip that will carry it through the entirety of its 3 minutes and 28 seconds of existence.
While reverb plays along through the chorus, you find yourself daydreaming about your next road trip or adventure into the unknown. Her mellifluous vocals pay homage to flings, bringing in a bittersweet string of lyrics to consume from the inside out. A welcome treat for our ears, this track makes it more enticing than ever to venture out into the world (for the first time in what feels like forever).
Says Jessica of the upcoming EP:
To think that I would be the proud creator of a piece of work like this after being in this industry for such a short time baffles me. ‘Going In Blind’ comes from how I was blind to the red flags in relationships I’ve encountered over the years, and a bit of a comment on how when I first started in music I knew nothing. I am still learning, but maybe I’m not as much of a newborn in this industry as I was a year ago.
Norwegian indie folk duo Tuvaband – comprised of Simon Would and Tuva Hellum – have been crazy busy prepping to release their debut EP, which is set to drop in November. The pair – who are incredibly socially conscious and tend to lend that activism to their art – recently released their single “Trees” to critical acclaim. The song, which touches on the importance of our natural habitat, is an ethereal taste of what’s to come.
With that in mind, we were ecstatic to catch a few moments with the band leading up to their big show at Mirrors Festival. Here is what they had to say.
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What is the first song or album you ever remember hearing, and who introduced it to you?
I can’t remember. I do remember that Aretha Franklin was one of my first favourite artists and that I had a lot of her albums. I wanted to become the new Aretha Franklin. A mix between Aretha Franklin and Gwen Stefani (when she was in No Doubt).
The first album Simon heard was Radiohead – Amnesiac. His uncle had bought it and they were listening to it in the car in Ireland. It’s still one of his favorite albums.
What is the origin story of Tuvaband? Was it impossibly amazing?
I was studying child welfare, and the girls I was living with was tired of hearing me make annoying sounds and doing my man-vocals out loud in our apartment. They told a guy in our class, to bring me to his studio to make me try to sing normal. I did, and it was the most fun I’ve had. I started singing with this guy and another musician. I thought we were a band and told my family and friends. Turned out we were just jamming. I went to my room and started making my own songs, and called myself Tuvaband as a joke. I would never sing in front of people, but gave my parents a Tuvaband CD for Christmas.
Back in Oslo after my studies, I met Simon and his friend in a bar, which were looking for a girl to sing a duet with. After three hours at an afterparty, when people had started falling asleep, I finally sang with Simon and his friend. Many months later I asked if Simon could play guitar in Tuvaband. We found out we would rather be a duo than a band and therefore could keep that name.
“Trees” is incredibly beautiful. We know production happened in two separate apartments, but what was the process like for this one? Lyrics first, melody first? Concept vs. words? Paint us a picture!
Thank you so much!
I’de written the lyrics earlier, but the melody we were just jamming, it’s the first song we had which started from a random jam. We had to structure the song together later to make it sound more like a song. There was a lot of rounds trying to record it and make it sound good. I think it took us almost a year to make it right.
What do you hope people glean from this track, specifically?
It would be nice if some people like the song so much that they will listen to the lyrics. First about the rainforest, then about our self-destructing behaviour, and then maybe produce even more thoughts about what we could do differently when it comes to the environment.
Your new EP is due in November. Can we expect other equally as socially conscious tracks on it? Is there an overarching message in its tranquility?
A lot of the songs I write has a similar message to the one in ‘Trees’, but the EP has a lot of different themes. It’s constructed in a way as a story, which evolves as the EP progresses. It goes from being about dealing with a trauma, then the aftermath of a trauma. And then when you are done dealing with this, it shifts towards the world around you, which is where ‘Trees’ and two other songs come in.
What are you most excited about with the upcoming EP release?
It’s nice to finally get something out that we’ve been working on for a long time, and to show people that we have more songs. We are close to finishing yet another EP, so it is about time to release the debut EP.
I have to say that we are both really excited about releasing a really nice music video, made by Marius Mathisrud and Oscar Juul Sørensen, for one of the tracks on the EP too!
Alright. The tough one. Cats or dogs?
It’s definitely cats for me. I’m the cat lady, but with no cats. When I’m 65, I will probably have 14 cats. If I ever start a side project as a musician, my name would be ‘The Mother of Cats’. Simon is a dog person and had a dog growing up. That says a lot about how different we are from each other.
Anything else you’d like us to know?
We are playing at Mirrors (festival) in Hackney, London, 28th of October. We hope to see you there!
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Catch up with Tuvaband during a Rough Trade In-Store gig on October 27th, and at Mirrors on the 28th. Keep up with Tuvaband here.
Buick Audra, Nashville singer/songwriter and guitarist, released her fourth album Adult Child on June 13th. She writes for both herself and other artists, and is half of the musical duo Friendship Commanders with Jerry Roe. Her music has a unique style that emphasizes her written lyrics in a way that is reminiscent of something like spoken word poetry. For example, her third album Conversations with My Other Voice was released with a matching memoir of essays. But the production doesn’t suffer for this, instead changing intensity and even genre to match each song.
Adult Child continues this style, never staying in one place for too long. The album mostly fits into the indie rock genre, but songs such as “It All Belonged to Me” are more folk-inspired. Songs like “Birthdays & Bullshit” are full of rage and dominated by drums, but there are several moments on the album where it’s just Audra and her vocals.
At its core, Adult Child is about family and relationships, and the patterns and cycles that we repeat in our lives from our family. But the takeaway from the album is that our origins don’t define us, and we can choose to form an identity all our own. Buick Audra touches on her own estranged relationship with her family, and the album’s title Adult Child reflects the expectations and responsibilities that were placed on her as a child.
“The Worst People Win” is the first track on Adult Child and “Questions for the Gods of Human Behavior” is the lead single off of the album. They serve as the intro into this album for us listeners, and these two songs are instantly relatable to almost anyone. “The Worst People Win”, like it sounds, is about the “fact of life” that the worst people in life are often the most successful. That is insanely relatable to myself, and I’m sure that almost everyone has had a moment in their life where this “fact” comes up. “Questions for the Gods of Human Behavior” looks more inward, questioning why we as humans repeat behaviors that hurt us–also probably a relatable idea for many. These songs also provide an introduction to the indie rock production of the album, which is mostly drums and guitar. Both songs utilize these instruments to provide tension to match the themes of the songs.
“Yellow” takes a turn away from the first two songs to look at Audra herself, and about how she’s internalized what other people have said about her. Again, the production echoes this shift, as the focus is more on Audra’s vocals, and the end totally strips the production down to just a percussion beat and Audra’s vocals. The lyrics repeat three times, with each repetition increasing the layers of her vocals.
“One-Step Close-Up” goes in a different direction again, being a more upbeat song off the album. It uses photography imagery to convey the theme of Audra prioritizing herself rather than others. The fifth song “Birthdays & Bullshit” is the epitome of female rage. The drums are loud, louder than the rest of the album. The song is about the responsibilities that women are expected to have, like being in charge of birthdays. Like the rest of the album, these two songs reflect on Audra’s experience as an adult child and the difficulty that comes with breaking those expectations and relationships.
For me, “It All Belonged to Me” is one of the most devastating songs on this album. The beginning is almost ethereal, all plucky strings and humming, but it isn’t light at all. In this song, Audra writes about where she grew up, and about how she doesn’t go home anymore. “Losing My Courage” is also an emotional song and contains only Audra’s vocals. This song is about just wanting to be listened to–and by design, you as the listener will listen to Audra. It’s truly a beautiful and powerful effect.
As the only acoustic song on the album, “Firstborn” starts to close out the album on a more hopeful note. Like earlier songs, “Firstborn” touches on Audra building a life of her own separate from her past and her family. And like a mantra, the phrase “I got here on my own” is repeated several times. It’s a nice statement for the last “real” song of the album.
“A List” is not a song. Instead, we just hear Audra speaking. This track was recorded on a tape recorder, which does add another layer to her voice here. “A List” is directly about the two pieces that make up this album: Audra’s past and her future. The end also fades into “The Worst People Win,” a nice touch to wrap up this album.
This album serves as a reflection into what being an adult child was like for Buick Audra, and how it still affects her. However, within this reflection, there’s hope that she can and has built her life and identity on her own. The five stages of grief are a cliche idea, but they’re all present in this nine-song album, with acceptance being an essential part of Audra’s journey here. “A list” ends Adult Child with the click of a tape recording. Audra leaves uswith a sense of finality and the hope of moving forward.
Wednesday’s single “Wound Up Here (By Holdin On)” signals the beginning of a new era for the band, and gives audiences the first taste of their new unreleased album, Bleed. “Wound Up Here (By Holdin On)” is the follow up single to “Elderberry Wine”, which embraced a more light romantic tone compared to their newest single, which is darker and heavier.
Karly Hartzman does what she did best on the band’s last album, Rat Saw God, which is to write heartbreakingly real and specific lyrics that somehow have a universal quality to them. “Wound Up Here (By Holdin On)” embraces Hartzman’s literary passion for a narrative, and portrays the darkness and irony of the human experience with lines like, “Mounted antlers in the kitchen on a crooked nail.”
The absurdities present in Hartzman’s narrative are juxtaposed with haunting statements like, “Your faceless fear gathers like a mob.” The lyrics are not the only contrasts within the track, as Hartzman’s vocals drastically shift from the beginning to the end of the song. She starts off soft and melodic, and by the track’s conclusion, goes into a full scream. It represents the turmoil that the song offers, and contributes to its chaos.
The instrumentals are divinely executed, as Hartzman’s vocal desperation becomes increased, so does the band. The guitars are heavy and distorted and the drums have an uplifting steadiness to them. From beginning to end, the guitars follow the vocals lead, and serve to emphasize the turbulent narrative within the song.
The instrumentals truly shine during the two instrumental breaks which hike up the action and discordance to create a symphony of angst and turmoil. The track closes with loud heavy drums, screeching guitars, and screaming.
“Wound Up Here (By Holdin On)” is representative of what Wednesday excels in, which is creating music with intense emotion and real life narratives packaged in beautiful lyrics and sounds.
Watch the music video for “Wound Up Here (By Holdin On)” here!
There’s something uniquely intimate about a show at Café Colonial in Sacramento. Tucked into a small venue space that practically glows with DIY charm, the latest leg of the Friendship Bracelet Tour features: Everybody’s Worried About Owen, The Last Arizona, June Henry, and openers Brianna Carmel and The Reverent Marigold. It was a night of catharsis, comfort, and queer magic.
The crowd, a cozy mix of alt and queer folks, created a safe and welcoming energy that made even first-timers feel like they belonged. The show kicked off with Sacramento’s own Brianna Carmel, whose punk-emo-inspired set featured a mix of originals and covers, grounding the night in raw vulnerability and hometown pride.
The Reverent Marigold, a trans-nonbinary folk artist from the Southwest, followed with a stunning and surreal set. Their originals like “JUDAS” and “Ahab, or the Whale” mixed folk-punk storytelling with poetic grit, but it was their unreleased track (complete with an audience-led chant of “F-U-C-K I-C-E”) that electrified the space. Rev. Mari’s voice and presence brought a grounded power that stuck with you long after the song ended.
Then came Everybody’s Worried About Owen, a standout moment of the night. With a rotating mix of fan favorites and unreleased tracks, Owen’s set felt both intimate and electric. Hearing “Mawce” live…a song that sparked a wave of resonance and visibility among trans listeners online was surreal and affirming. Other tracks like “Hydroplaning” and “Introducing Jonah to the Whale” showcased Owen’s emo-folk style and lyrical intensity, while news of an upcoming album and a move to Oregon left the crowd buzzing. West Coast fans, take note: Owen’s not going anywhere.
The Last Arizona followed with a warm, emotionally grounding set of original songs that brought a quieter intimacy to the room. While their performance leaned more subdued than some of the other acts, it was no less impactful. Their lyrics unfolded like quiet confessions, offering a soft landing near the close of the evening. There’s a patience and sincerity in The Last Arizona’s delivery that invites you to lean in, to listen harder.
Finally, June Henry closed out the night in a way only she could. Enchanting and deeply personal. Known for her minute-long viral track “void-adjacent,” June brought a blend of freak folk, lo-fi storytelling, and unflinching emotional honesty to the stage. Her unreleased songs felt like entries from a haunted diary, delicate but fearless. There’s something magnetic about the way June navigates her limerence, longing, and circus lore.
By the end of the night, it was clear this wasn’t just a concert, it was a communion of trans and queer artists and fans alike. Every set bled with care, creativity, and the kind of truth that rarely gets stage time. The Friendship Bracelet Tour lives up to its name: it’s stitched together with love, handmade vulnerability, and the promise that none of us are alone.
On its surface, KRAMON’s latest single “Morning Vapors” is a trance-like ode to early, easy smokes. It opens with an invitation to take a ride, offered via a sweet serenade from Meredith Adelaide over a gentle yet addicting guitar riff. From there, it takes the listener’s on a journey through an atmospheric headspace. The tune feels like a long, slow drive on Highway 70, with very few bumps in the road.
The second single of Josh Kramon’s newest project, simply titled KRAMON, follows in the footsteps of its predecessor “Crush.” It’s a dreamy, joyful rock tune, reminiscent of the psychedelic hippie hymns of the ‘70s.
Like “Crush”, “Morning Vapors” is spurred forward by Meredith Adelaide’s laid-back vocals. The multi-medium artist sounds like an old friend on the track. She overextends herself, rather choosing to float over the crisp instrumental.
It’s the instrumental that holds this piece together. It holds hands with both the lyrics and the vocals, guiding them along the journey the song promises.
The song gains its weight in its final minute and half. A slower, heavier harmonized bridge cues the audience to this shift in musical character. The ending chorus, a steady repetition of the song’s title, fulfills the promise of a new mood with the introduction of a tambourine and an increase in tempo. These last few minutes take the track where it’s been longing to go.
The direction of “Morning Vapors” paints a promising picture for Kramon’s newest project. And that direction is one full of potential for the composer, singer-songwriter, and multi-instrumentalist.
In what might be his better known work, Kramon has composed for various Television series, such as Veronica Mars. However, in his personal work, Kramon has explored his struggles with addiction and his complex relationship with his Jewish heritage.
Kramon is holding onto his vow to make music that speaks to him, rather than “chasing the latest musical trend.” So far, this latest project seems to break away from the themes of his previous work. Instead, “Morning Vapors” promises a future with less tears and more relaxation. Kramon is taking a ride, away from the heaviness of the past, in a vehicle that feels most authentic to himself – and he wants us to come along for the journey.
Foggieraw’s new single “Nefertiti” uses memory-inducing lyrics over a gentle jazz piano to depict 90’s nostalgia and childish love.
The jazzy piano melodies trigger both nostalgia and a sense of timelessness, as Foggieraw begins the song speaking to his “Nefertiti” directly. The premise of the song is a plea to remember the “good ol’ days” and the moments that they shared together, while also acknowledging their faults and insecurities as a couple.
“Nefertiti” is pumped full of references to everything from Betty Boop to Freaky Friday and Spykids. The nostalgia that Foggieraw employs on this track also plays into the immaturity of his love, as he begins to reveal the cracks and instability in his relationship.
He writes about fighting with her cousins, them fighting with each other, and with her friends. It paints a complicated picture of their attachment as even though they have deep love and a prolonged connection, their extended time in each other’s lives has created a muddy and messy situation. Foggieraw ends the song by restating that he does not like her friends, “I don’t like none of your friends, I don’t like Kiana, I don’t like Kiesha and I definitely don’t like Kiki,” which only emphasizes the complex relationship presented in the track.
Foggieraw’s style in “Nefertiti” leans towards conversational, as he uses the softness of the hypnotic backing piano to languidly rap his lyrics to his lover. His lyrics are what really shine as he is able to be honest, nostalgic, and exude confidence all in less than two and a half minutes. Foggieraw encapsulates his struggle in his relationship by saying, “I like you for who you is, you like me for the n**** I could be one day.”
Foggieraw has managed to create a love song that is both romantic and argumentative, which creates a listening experience that is raw, real and nostalgic. “Nefertiti” shows us that relationships are complicated experiences, but that love and romance often keeps us coming back for more.
Conan Gray has always made heartbreak sound cinematic, but in the music video for “This Song,” he leans fully into visual poetry, backdropped by small-town Texas skies, the nostalgia of youth, and the ache of something left unsaid. Shot on film and directed by Moon Shynin, the video stars Gray and actor Corey Fogelmanis, both playing lovers locked in a quiet, unresolved orbit. From stolen glances across dimly lit diners to an emotionally loaded first on-screen kiss, it’s a haunting introduction to Wishbone, Gray’s upcoming album, due out August 15.
The music video doesn’t tell a story in linear terms. It floats. Much like the song itself, the visual narrative exists in memory and metaphor more than clear chronology. It’s nostalgic without being kitschy, romantic without requiring words. The intimacy between the two characters feels lived-in… gentle, familiar, and quietly devastating in its mundanity. These aren’t grand cinematic lovers; they’re real people in the in-between, suspended in the echo of something that might have already ended.
Then, the kiss. A moment fans have buzzed about as Gray’s first on-screen kiss, it lands with more sadness than celebration. It’s not a moment of passion, but one of acceptance. A soft surrender to everything left unsaid. That’s the power of “This Song.” Nothing explodes. Nothing resolves. It just lingers.
Produced by Ethan Gruska, “This Song” doesn’t rely on sonic spectacle to hit hard. It simmers in longing, filled with slow, pulsing instrumentation and restrained vocals that unravel like a late-night journal entry. The lyrics linger in that liminal space when memories start looping louder than reality. Fans are already calling it Gray’s first true love song, and in many ways, it is. It’s vulnerable without being self-pitying, romantic without being grandiose, and devastatingly honest in how it captures the feeling of being left behind.
Gray’s reflections on the track (shared via Instagram) make the video all the more poignant. He compares relationships to a wishbone ritual: two people making a wish, pulling until something breaks, and only one person walking away with the long end. That metaphor shapes the emotional palette of “This Song.” There’s no revenge arc here, no triumphant solo glow-up. Just the ache of an ending you didn’t see coming until it shattered in your hands.
What makes this video stand out in Gray’s visual catalog is how understated it is. There’s no high-concept drama, no surreal worldbuilding like in some of his previous videos. Instead, it’s the color of Corey’s sweatshirt, the distant look in Gray’s eyes, the awkward space between their hands in the car. Director Moon Shynin lets us sit in the discomfort of things unsaid. Combined with the grain of the film and the dusky, warm palette, the video feels like something found in a box years later, watched with a lump in the throat.
“This Song” marks the beginning of Gray’s Wishbone era! An album born from 300 unreleased tracks, written in basements and between tour stops, in hotel sheets and long cab rides. And if this single is any indication, Wishbone might be his most personal work yet: disillusioned, self-aware, and softly soul-searching. A story of choosing people who are already halfway out the door and finally asking why.
Watch the video and prepare yourself for the August heartbreak. This is Conan Gray not as the heartbroken teen pop star, but as a young adult sifting through what it means to trust, to lose, and to love anyway.
