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.
Ben Kweller is a well established musical artist currently located in Dripping Springs, Texas (another win for the Texas musical scene!) who is currently celebrating the his latest full-length, Cover the Mirrors. This is Kweller’s first release since the death of his son Dorian in 2023 and is dedicated to Dorian. The album explores the devastation and grief that Kweller experienced after his son’s passing, but it also delves into the multifaceted nature of grief to dismantle and alter every aspect of life.
Cover the Mirrors discusses what happens to you and the people around you after a loved one passes, and the alteration of daily life and experience. Kweller explores relationships, depression, emotional wellbeing, isolation, and so much more in this album. The album itself is a testament to the impact that the people we love have on us, and their permanence in our lives long after they are gone.
The first track, “Going Insane”, really sets the tone for the emotional exploration and absurdity the album presents to us. Kweller is talking about serious issues but he doesn’t shy away from making light out of a bad situation or being a little absurd at times. “Going Insane” is a steady piano ballad that explores desperation and dealing with life’s turmoils. This is contrasted by the lightness in lyrics such as “rattlesnake, carrot cake.” It creates an interesting juxtaposition as he writes that he and the people around him are all “balled up inside.” The orchestral strings are a nice touch to this lyrically experimental ballad on struggling through the days.
Cover the Mirrors has many amazing and big name features such as: Waxahatchee, Coconut Records, The Flaming Lips, and MJ Lenderman. “Dollar Store (feat. Waxahatchee)” further expands upon the idea of inner turmoil as he battles with the struggles and standstill of a relationship. Kweller battles wanting to keep trying but also not wanting to dwell on the struggle itself.
The chorus of the song is infectious and Waxahatchee’s vocals linger throughout the background which make for a delightful listening experience. Throughout the album, I noticed that Kweller loves a big outro to a song and this track is no exception as we end with the drums and guitar coming together to assist Kweller scream out the song’s chorus. The music video is a great visualizer for the song’s message and was filmed at Bluebonnet Food Mart and Heart of Texas Hotel right here in Austin, Texas!
“Depression (feat. Coconut Records)” is a sonic shift at this point in the album as they drop the overt folk sounds and lean into electronics and bass. This album has proved to be extremely thematically consistent, as Kweller continues to question his sadness and isolation. The bridge is a real standout on this one, as the drums dominate but allow for some beautiful backing melodies. The lyrics are heartbreakingly honest as Kweller writes, “I used to think that I was strong and tough, but I can’t even get through the day.”
The album feels like it is constantly in conversation with itself, and Kweller is further thinking about the quality and worthiness of his relationship, and his willingness to fight for it. “Don’t Cave” adopts a more hazy and hopeful tone as he navigates uncharted territory of “the goodbye we shouldn’t say” in his relationship. The instrumentals on this track culminate into an uplifting ballad that highlights each element (drums, strings and guitar) wonderfully.
“Optimystic” is one of the standout tracks on the record for me. It adopts a heavier and punky guitar tone and Kweller’s lyrics are a conversation to himself about his delicate mental state during this time. Definitely the most *mosh* worthy track on the album. The guitar tone is infectious and the chorus will definitely get stuck in your head. Also, Kweller’s coined phrase of “pill-popionaire” is just too good!
The music video is essential in my opinion to visualizing the track, and the playful animation done by Mystery Matter is wonderful and engaging.
“Killer Bee (feat. The Flaming Lips)” is yet another killer feature on the album. The song is sonically aligned with the rest of the album and the buzzing bee sound of the keyboard/synth is a great and interesting touch. The scaling guitar during the chorus highlights the song’s message of exploration and insecurity. Kweller posted a demo on Youtube much before the songs release, and the direction they took it in made for a dynamic and explorative listening experience post production.
Kweller’s lyrics are exceptional on this album and they get a chance to truly shine in “Letter to Agony” where he confessionally explores his depressive mental state and how that is affecting his attitudes towards his relationship. It has a similar sound to “Park Harvey Fire Drill”, a previous track on the album, but takes a much more serious tone. He discusses undesirable thoughts of wishing ill will on someone he loves and is remarkably self aware of his own shortcomings and chemical imbalances. The minor chords feed into this sorrowful tone, as he writes, “all of the toxic waste spewing from me tonight, I fear there’s no end in sight.” Kweller is quite literally isolated on this track, as it only features Kweller’s vocals and guitar.
Kweller not only writes about grief, but also how to fight through it. “Save Yourself” starts out with a simple guitar melody and by the chorus becomes a loud explosion of drums and guitar as Kweller fights his way to say, “Don’t let it beat you up.” This is a fight song against the dangers of grief as it emphasizes the importance of saving oneself from the “unknown loss”. The exciting instrumentals and conversation between the guitar and drums create a truly epic listening experience, and has the potential to be very motivating to anyone who has ever struggled through grief and loss.
“Oh Dorian (feat. MJ Lenderman)” is my favorite song off the album and is an excellent close to the deeply personal conversations we’ve had with Kweller as listeners throughout the album’s tracklist. The heartbreak in this song is not only caused by the loss of Dorian, but that Kweller allows us to know Dorian’s glowing personality and traits, and we learn to mourn alongside Kweller for his son.
The charming pianos introduce the song and give it a lighthearted and sweet tone, which coupled with the celebratory and beautiful lyrics about Dorian create a sonic memory and memorial. The electric guitar work from Lenderman and piano from Kweller on this track really highlight the beauty of him and Dorian’s relationship, ebbing and flowing into our ears and delivering the lyrics on a platter for our enjoyment. The lyrics are tear jerking but Kweller will make you smile through the tears as he writes about Dorian,
Crystal child, double-Gemini A million songs in his head Doesn’t care if you’re wrong or right He believes what you said
Kweller further creates an environment where we feel like we know Dorian through lyrics like,
Watch him glow and radiate When he walks through the door Understands a-what you say ’cause he’s been there before
Kweller paints a deeply personal picture on this track, and if you are going to listen to one song on the album this is most definitely the highlight. But I would really recommend listening to all of them! Kweller lets us in on life while battling grief, and how he is navigating the world without his son. He highlights the radically changing quality that grief has on you and the people you love, which makes this album so much more than grief itself.
Cover the Mirrors is a journey through Kweller’s mental, physical and emotional battles and he does not hold back. It is musically and lyrically explorative and provides the listener with sonically diverse tracks with clever and interesting lyrics. It may be about intense issues, but much of the album does not feel explicitly sad, but rather emotionally experimental. Ben Kweller has fully fleshed out what it means to grieve, and has created an album that is a testament to his love for not only his son, but his journey of loving and understanding himself and others.
Beach Bunny has always been something of a paradox: sugary sweet pop-rock with teeth. Formed in 2015 as a solo project by Chicago native Lili Trifilio, the band grew into a full lineup in 2017 and now includes Matt Henkels on guitar, Jon Alvarado on drums, and Anthony Vaccaro on bass. Together, they’ve cultivated a cult-like following with their emotional vulnerability, catchy riffs, and cathartic live energy. After the breakout success of Honeymoon’s bittersweet surf-pop and Emotional Creature’s Y2K-tinged indie rock exploration, Tunnel Vision arrives as their most emotionally charged and sonically bold effort yet.
Beach Bunny’s Tunnel Vision dropped April 25, and to call it a return would be a disservice. It’s an evolution. Their third full-length album is a raw, poetic excavation of existential dread, self-image, and the desperate craving for control in a world that seems allergic to it. It’s loud, soft, sad, witty, and Beach Bunny at their most emotionally expansive and still their most distilled.
Tunnel Vision doesn’t flinch from big feelings. There are repeated themes of self-loathing, disillusionment, and growing pains. The 10-track record opens like a diary page torn out and set on fire. Each song burns in its own way.
“Big Pink Bubble”, the second track, is a standout in both concept and execution. It’s deceptively sweet, light on its feet sonically, yet narratively potent. Trifilio sings about avoidance and self-erasure, using the metaphor of a bubble as a boundary and a hiding place. It’s the last song that made it onto the album, but it feels essential: a thesis on emotional survival in a hypercritical world. Making yourself small to be digestible shouldn’t feel like a universal experience, and yet somehow it does.
Track 3, “Chasm”, hits like an internal scream. Fuzzy guitars and pounding drums mirror the chaos in the lyrics. There’s a sharpness here, a sense of falling into yourself with no rope to hold onto. It’s one of the best examples of how Tunnel Vision balances lyric-heavy intimacy with bold, anthemic production.
The title track, “Tunnel Vision”, takes that tension and gives it form. There’s a fever-dream quality to the way it builds, both focused and frayed. It mirrors the modern desire to disappear into something, anything, just to feel like life has a clear direction again. Trifilio’s vocals stay high and sweet even as she sings of disconnect and overstimulation. It’s the sound of being pulled forward, even when you’re not sure you want to go.
And then there’s “Clueless”, track 5, a classic Beach Bunny bop dressed in birthday candles and quiet dread. Released right before Trifilio’s 28th birthday, the song captures the disorienting, slow-burn panic of aging and not feeling any closer to figuring things out.
One of the most unexpected highlights is “Pixie Cut”, a punky, Paramore-tinged anthem that feels like cutting your hair because your life is falling apart. The production goes a little darker, a little harder, and the result is cathartic and commanding. It’s a side of Beach Bunny we rarely see: less cutesy, more claws. And it works.
And then there’s “Cycles”, the closer, and one of the band’s most interesting experiments in musical reimagining. Originally released in 2019 under Trifilio’s solo name, it’s now reborn as a full-band track. Heavier, more polished, but still aching. It ends the album on a note of resigned beauty, recognizing that sometimes the hardest part of growing is realizing you’re still stuck in the same loops.
Right now, the band is taking that emotional whirlwind on the road. Beach Bunny is currently on tour across North America, bringing Tunnel Vision to life with their signature blend of catharsis and charm. For longtime fans and new listeners alike, these shows offer a front-row seat to a band at the height of their vulnerability and power.
If Honeymoon was the teenage heartbreak album and Emotional Creature was the young adult identity crisis, Tunnel Vision is the mid-20s existential spiral. But it’s also a sign that Beach Bunny is still expanding, still experimenting, still refusing to sit still long enough to be easily categorized. This is messy music for messy people, and Imperfect Fifth wouldn’t want it any other way.
Brooklyn-based indie pop collective The Davenports – masterminded by multi-instrumentalist Scott Klass and a rotating cast of artists – has been riding high off of critical acclaim over their fifth album, You Could’ve Just Said That, and for good reason. Klass’ mastery of the production process – from concept to recording and mixing – is on full display, as it is the first release charmingly self-recorded at home. This allowed him to really do whatever experimenting and manipulation he wanted to with the tracks, resulting in a powerhouse audio adventure.
Today, The Davenports focus on the release of their official music video for “We Know We Want To.” The song itself? A layered, stripped down-yet-sweet confection for the ears, calling for simplicity and honesty. Explains Klass of the track:
This is essentially a love song, but with a polyamory spin, based on a story I heard. I don’t know how common it is. Two people were part of a friend group that believed strongly in polyamory, and it just stopped working for one-half of that couple. They loved their primary partner and reached a point where sharing was painful and stopped making sense. It was pretty heartbreaking to hear about how they just put up with it for a while, just fighting their truth. It’s a question about the balance between your honesty and your principles in situations where the two might not be aligned.
The refrain: “It’s principle we all have sold / that one-on-one is tired and old / let’s put the party line on hold…and hold each other like we know we want to.”
When it came to the official music video for the piece, Klass knew he wanted to work with Mount Emult, who he has worked with previously. The artist creates gorgeous collage-style stop-motion by hand that “blows everyone away.” And Klass’ praise is not wrong. The video was pieced together so masterfully, there’s a sense of magic, nostalgia – and the simplicity the song is asking of us – to it all.
“I wanted someone great to interpret it their own way,” explained Klass. “This is essentially a love song, and the rush of imagery is, to me, as fitting of the rumination related to heartbreak as it is a visual juxtaposition to the song’s theme.”
You can get your first peek at the video for “We Know We Want To” here, now.
Keep up with The Davenports on Instagram, and pop some of their tunes into your library.
Refreshing indie pop duo Lime Cordiale just released their full-length album Enough of The Sweet Talk on July 26th. The LP comprises 13 songs separated by four “French Cue” interludes. After listening to the whole album, I couldn’t help but compare their music to The Wiggles, an Australian-based music group known for their iconic tunes. Sure enough, after doing some research, Lime Cordiale hails from Sydney, Australia, and gives off the same vibes as the aforementioned, but with a mature coming-of-age twist.
The band is made up of brothers Louis and Oliver Leimbach, later joined by Brendan Champion on the trombone and James Jennings on the drums. The musicality of the album at its core is pop, with hints of indie rock shining through in the latter half of the album. The drums, electric guitar, and trombone make regular appearances throughout the album, with an electronic keyboard as a fun cameo added to a few of the songs.
The first part of the album feels amazingly carefree and pays tribute to romantic relationships. “Pedestal” and “The Milk Man” are perfect songs to jam out to, so much so that they paint vivid pictures many can relate to, whether it be slow-dancing at prom or having a summer fling at the beach. I can already see myself listening to these songs while I’m getting ready for a special night out!
“The Facts of Life” is where the album breaks out into more of a self-reflective realm. In my opinion, the song encourages you to pay attention to your surroundings and enjoy the smaller things life has to offer: chewing gum, ice cream, the birds and bees. Alternatively, “The Facts of Life” could also imply the feeling of sexual release, as evocative hot-and-cool imagery is used throughout the song. The next piece “Enough of The Sweet Talk” is as literal as it can get. As a listener, you can’t help but empathize with the brothers. Leimbach states that talking with this person (I assume a romantic partner) is frustrating because they truly won’t listen to him; it’s all meaningless sweet talk. Even if they share the meaning of life or the world is ending and they need someone to rely on, he still wouldn’t talk to them– opting to be alone despite such drastic conditions.
This brings me to my favorite piece of the entire album: “Happiness Season”. It’s a beautiful song wherein each lyric is punctuated by the drum’s beat and accentuated by an impressive trombone riff. Additionally, this piece really highlights the Leimbach brothers’ talents as tenor vocalists! My favorite part is the chorus:
She didn’t need me, I’ve been defeated, Oh that’s how it goes in happiness season She didn’t need me, I’ve been defeated, Oh that’s how it goes, imagine her leaving, with happiness season~
“When I’m Losing It” is where the album takes a serious turn. In this song, Leimbach is, for lack of a better term, head-over-heels crazy about his lover. He admits he gets jealous easily and always loses his nonchalance when he’s around her. Accompanying this self-deprecating streak are “Imposter Syndrome” and “The Big Reveal; Ou L’Hypocrite”. Both songs reveal feelings of bittersweet inadequacy. Leimbach doesn’t see his own appeal and cannot accept a compliment for his life. Leimbach is hiding a big secret under his stardom and it’s the fact that he’s a hypocrite living with imposter syndrome. To be honest I can see many young adults of my generation (Gen Z) relating to these songs the most. At the end of the day, whether we hold mid- to senior-level positions or amass thousands of followers, at one point in our lives we’ve all experienced imposter syndrome.
Another amazing song I would like to spotlight is “Country Club”. The lengthy trombone solo, reminiscent of New Orleans jazz, graciously allows listeners a moment to reflect on the message of the song. “Country Club” has an oddly psychedelic feel to it, with a catchy and hilarious chorus. This song narrates the life of a ‘nepo baby’ who cannot rely on their parent’s money anymore. Despite its advantages, having rich parents can actually be a disservice as the person in question doesn’t know how the real world works. Overall, it’s a great message anyone can take away from.
Ultimately, Enough of The Sweet Talk provides listeners with a wonderful range of life messages to learn from. In addition to love and heartbreak, the album touches upon the importance of self-reliance, staying humble, and the harm caused by your inner critic. These songs are going to be on repeat in my summer playlist and–dare I say– years to come!
Mike Campbell is a classic rock veteran who’s never really gotten his due, at least in the eyes of the public. His musical track record is all over the map, as a founding member of the legendary Tom Petty & The Heartbreakers and a collaborator of other household names like Stevie Nicks, Bob Dylan, and Don Henley. This sort of throwback retro-rock sound pervades all throughout Vagabonds, Virgins, & Misfits, the third album of Campbell and his band, The Dirty Knobs. The band, composed of former Heartbreakers/Don Henley collaborators Steve Ferrone (drums), Chris Holt (guitar), and Lance Morrison (bass), began as a side project in 2000 for Campbell but became a full-time project from the dissolution of The Heartbreakers following Petty’s death. This is their third album after 2020’s Wreckless Abandon and 2022’s External Combustion.
Vagabonds, Virgins, & Misfits is musically defined by many of the same textures that defined the Heartbreakers’ sound: blues, rootsy country, and occasionally some hard-edged rock & roll. The album’s vintage vibes never attempt to reinvent the wheel, but that’s missing the point. Mike Campbell & The Dirty Knobs’ appeal is hearing a band of energized veteran musicians play the music they love without a care in the world, and it’s why the album succeeds on its own merits. Even if part of one’s affection towards the band may come from their own nostalgia towards the Heartbreakers and classic rock in general, it’s still a well-crafted piece of retro rock with consistently killer performances.
The best songs on the album are the ones where the band is firing on all cylinders, such as the loose and fast-paced rock-n-rollers “Shake These Blues”, “So Alive”, and “Don’t Wait Up”. They each have an irresistible groove with amazing guitar playing, and the band’s chemistry and individual talents all get to appear. Many tracks also feature a sound closer to the heartland rock played in the Heartbreakers, such as “Angel of Mercy” and “Innocent Man” and succeed as feel-good breezy songs that still have grit and muscle in their tone. I was even digging some 60s-inspired country songs that intermittently appeared, such as “Hell or High Water” and “My Old Friends”. Both provide enough changes in instrumentation (through a string section, harmonica, horns, and Americana staple steel pedal guitar) to work just as well as the more conventional rock songs. While Campbell’s age can show in some of his singing, it’s always off-put by the love and enthusiasm always shown for his work. The vocals are also helped by guest stars on the album, such as contemporary country star Chris Stapleton, fellow heartbreaker Benmont Tench, and Gen-X/boomer music maestros like Graham Nash and Lucinda Williams.
Again, some of the album can depend on your own feelings for classic rock and you may be more inclined just to relisten to Full Moon Fever instead. But even as an act that prides itself on older musicians and styles, Vagabonds, Virgins, & Misfits is an effortlessly enjoyable ride that’s built on a strong love for rock music.
As someone who’s been studying up in the DMV (shout-out George Mason!), I’ve been slightly aware of MasVusi, an active drag performer in the area. She’s certainly a remarkable figure in both her performances and trans activism, and when I heard she was releasing an EP, I knew it would be something truly interesting. Despite pride month having come and gone, it’s still critical to shed light on new releases by queer artists absolutely worth your time, and MasVusi’s debut EP i hope you like it and is a shining example of such.
The EP has been in the works for two years, with MasVusi describing it as a “true story of love, loss, and a coming of age where queer young people must choose between their own safety or the presence of their loved ones.” The songs are implied to be autobiographical in some ways, which makes the release more intriguing given it’s already quite confessional and honest, even without the prior context. The music of the EP contrasts the moodiness of the lyrics by mainly being an eclectic blend of several eras of dance music (likely also chosen because the genre is a staple in queer/drag culture). Musically, I spotted influences from flashy 70s disco (“Chaser ‘69”), early 80s synthpop/Italo-disco (“(the) Night Shift”), and modern EDM (“t4t”) throughout the record. Though that’s assuming those aesthetic/stylistic references were intentional and I’m not just being a massive nerd, anyway.
Immediately, the opener and lead single “Closet Blues” caught my attention with a thumping dance beat and a squelchy, groovy bass line. It’s a fun opener, and the lyrics set up the themes of late-night romance (and eventual heartbreak) in a way that still complements the funk. My favorite song from the EP was definitely “(the) Night Shift”, which really impressed me with its production. It has these dreamy and lush 80s-inspired synths, and the whole track just sounds gorgeous. I absolutely must point out MasVusi’s vocal performance because while I think the opener’s mixing could bury her voice, she really comes alive in this song specifically. She has great vocal range, and her voice can have a glammy dramatic quality that really soars during the more emotional, longing moments of the record.
The next song and second single “Chaser ‘69” (featuring fellow DMV-drag artist Queenie Iman Glamazon) continues in this throwback direction by incorporating synthesized strings and a four-on-the-floor beat. It’s intentionally campy to achieve the vintage 70s disco flavor the song is going for, which is reminiscent of Donna Summer or ABBA, and again succeeds because of the vocals and production. After that comes the most vulnerable song on the record, “Momma, I”. Interspersed throughout the track is a recording of the inside of a DC metro station, which makes the lyrics and entire EP seem more real and personal. This is because the audio juxtaposes against MasVusi singing earnestly at her most desolate and bleak, with the music styled in a jazzy piano ballad to match the tone. The lyrics of the middle three songs are the most downbeat, focusing on yearning, financial hardships, and loneliness, respectively.
Fortunately, the EP ends on a positive note with “t4t”, a fast-paced contemporary rave song. I believe the lyrics show MasVusi found her own happiness with the local drag/club scene she’s currently involved in, a sentiment that wraps up the EP nicely. As a debut release, i hope you like it (which, yes, I did) is bold and revealing while still being quite danceable and engaging, and it shows that MasVusi is a performer with something to say.
The second album by any successful artist can be a critical moment in their career. It’s made to show the impact of their previous work wasn’t a fluke, and that they’re still someone worth giving your time and attention to. This is easy to mess up, as the term “sophomore slump” still gets used when describing artists not being able to make a follow-up that builds on their previous acclaim. The new album by Luna Shadows, bathwater, thankfully doesn’t fall into known sophomore slump pitfalls and expands on Shadows’ previous music from 2021’s Digital Pacific. It expands on her goth alt-pop sound by incorporating more guitars and orchestral arrangements, but also shows a deeper, more personal look into Shadows than before. bathwater is a slow-burn album that rewards listeners with poetic and vulnerable lyrics and gorgeous melodies that split the difference between songs you can dance or cry to in equal measure.
Musically, the album isn’t a complete reinvention of Shadows’ previous work, as it uses Digital Pacific as a jumping-off point to new sounds and textures. The previous album’s hazy synthpop and use of drum machine rhythms found in hip-hop or R&B are still present, but they take more of a backseat. As someone who doesn’t listen to moody alternative pop records (i.e. Lorde, Lana del Rey, Billie Eilish, etc.), the sound took a bit of getting used to. I deeply appreciate that Luna Shadows remembers to keep her music rhythmic and interesting, unlike a lot of alt-pop that focuses too heavily on vibes. However, some songs are produced more in minimal accompaniment with a greater focus on Shadows’ vocals and a richly produced dense atmosphere. Still, the album sounds great and even goes into psychedelic, somewhat ethereal territory that almost reminds me of dream pop like Beach House or even Cocteau Twins.
Speaking of Shadows, her vocal performances here are as pristine as ever; being breathy and somewhat whispered at points, yet still dynamic enough to convey the raw sense of vulnerability she’s going for. Her voice is soothing and occasionally functions as an instrument themselves when set against the eerie and psychedelic soundscapes she sings in. Fitting with her namesake and the album cover, her voice and persona all have an otherworldly, mystical quality that makes her music even more intriguing. All the vocal harmonies sound wonderful, alternating between misty, heartbreaking, playful, and just all-around pretty whenever the song demands it.
In terms of individual songs, my favorites are the more up-tempo pop-friendly singles like “bleach” and “heroine” which both feature killer electric guitar and breezy vocal harmonies. Some of the slower songs are just as strong, like the heartbreaking “monroe” with its desperate sentiments, and “honeymoon” which features some beautiful finger-picked acoustic guitar. The indie stylings mostly come down to acoustic guitar being used as background texture, like on the more R&B-inspired “tourist” and the ballad “superstars”. However, there’s still time given to use guitar solos on songs like “stay mad” and “nudes” that are consistently excellent throughout the album. Experimenting with string instruments like on “witches’ brew” and the closer “apocalypse love song” complements the melancholy and moody tone that the tracks themselves provide.
bathwater may occasionally feel its length with a track list of 14 songs (including an intro) and can go into the same sonic territory of ambiance a bit too often, but each song has enough personal feeling to justify its place. Luna Shadows likely made this album as a way of transcribing her personal struggles and conflicts into art, such as many other artists, and she succeeds by pushing herself forward musically and emotionally. For only a sophomore album, it suggests more great work from her is still to come.
It’s been a known stereotype that artists will use their work to process and channel their own emotions. This could be their heartbreak into paintings, their loneliness into a story, or–with the newest single by singer-songwriter Becca Stevens–the loss of their loved ones into a song. Stevens, a 2x Grammy-nominee, has been quite busy recently with both a role in the cast of the Sufjan Stevens-inspired musical “Illinoise” for the rest of the summer but also with her newest album, the entirely acoustic Maple to Paper, which releases August 30th.
Stevens has described the new album as very personal, and the lead single “Now Feels Bigger than the Past” shows her at her most vulnerable. This is largely due to three major events that shaped the tone of the album: the death of her mother, the birth of her first daughter, and the death of mentor and frequent collaborator David Crosby. The song is immediately upfront about these events; opening with a verse seemingly about artists not being appreciated and loved until they’re gone. It’s a bitter and almost angry way to open the song, but it’s clear that it’s out of Stevens’ love and respect for Crosby. She had played on his last four albums, and her vocals and sound are a dead ringer for other 70s folk singers like Joni Mitchell or Vashti Bunyan.
Stevens recorded all of Maple to Paper live without overdubs, and this single alone adds to the honesty and personal sentiments of her lyrics and vocals. It’s cliched to describe folk music as “authentic” or “intimate” but Stevens’ soft, wistful voice and the intentionally sparse production successfully capture those feelings, and it complements the song’s mournful tone perfectly.
Stevens continues to sing about loss, examining how it’s easier to appreciate someone’s flaws after they’re gone. “Imperfection is beautiful in retrospect… And great big flaws are charming when there’s no one there to correct.” This leads into the final verses where she sings of the grief brought about by her mother’s passing and the sudden disillusionment of now having to provide the same role with her own child.
It’s a heartbreaking song, yet also a masterful and poetic work by a great artist. The music video, directed by Jep Jorba, uses trick photography to show a modern-day Stevens and an older Stevens (achieved through makeup and hair curlers) singing verses to each other as though it were a dining room conversation. It visualizes the themes of Stevens contemplating her own mortality as she grows into the role her mother had, but now only has herself to talk to. “Now Feels Bigger than the Past” is an entirely haunting yet emotionally gripping lead single into Becca Stevens’ upcoming Maple to Paper.
