Get ready to be swept away by Winterlark‘s newest EP, You Send Me A Photograph. This indie folk sensation is back with a collection of tunes that will tug at your heartstrings. From soulful melodies to lyrics that hit you right in the feels, Winterlark takes you on a musical adventure exploring love, memories, and those unforgettable snapshots of life.
Winterlark’s EP You Send Me A Photograph is a mesmerizing journey that transports listeners to a world of ethereal beauty. With their intricate compositions and hauntingly delicate vocals, Winterlark creates an immersive sonic landscape that lingers long after the last note fades.
The EP’s six tracks weave together elements of indie folk and dream pop, resulting in a sublime blend of introspection and enchantment. Each song is a captivating vignette, filled with evocative imagery and introspective lyrics that delve into the depths of love, loss, and the bittersweet moments of life.
From the haunting opening track to the poignant finale, Winterlark’s musicianship shines brightly. The intricate layers of strums and pizzicatos intertwine flawlessly, creating a rich tapestry of sound that envelops the senses. The duo’s harmonies are nothing short of spellbinding, evoking a sense of gentleness and emotional resonance that resonates deeply with the listener.
You Send Me A Photograph is an EP that demands to be experienced in its entirety, as each song seamlessly flows into the next, guiding the listener on a cathartic and introspective journey. Winterlark’s ability to capture raw emotions and distill them into captivating melodies is a testament to their artistry and musicianship. This EP is a true gem, destined to captivate both devoted fans and newcomers alike with its vintage beauty and heartfelt expression.
Introducing Valley, the Canadian indie-pop sensation that has captured hearts worldwide with its infectious melodies and heartfelt lyrics. Now, they are back with their highly anticipated album Lost in Translation, a sonic journey that explores the complexities of love, self-discovery, and the universal quest for meaning. With their signature blend of shimmering synth-pop, lush harmonies, and introspective songwriting, Valley delivers an enchanting and relatable experience that transcends borders and speaks to the soul.
One of the songs in Lost in Translation — “Natrual” — comes with its own music video that delves into themes of healing and natural bonds between different souls.
The music video opens with an individual walking into some sort of a rustic, classically American bar, wearing what looks to be clean and sunflower-y but otherwise dull clothing. He doesn’t seem to belong, compared to the several groups of conversationalists and dart-throwers. Quick to change, he leaves from a changing area, donning a metallic top and unquestionably less stiff pants. And he comes back sporting top-tier energy.
It’s not so much the outfit as rocking dance moves, this man has had a real confidence boost and he’s not afraid to light up the atmosphere. Most noticeably, the lighting is sunset-ethereal-like, but the majority of the space is enveloped in shadows. Somehow, I believe that the lighting represents the divide between the beautiful light, the facade we put on for the world, versus the shadows, our own dark inner worlds.
There is a mirror, and the man is standing in front of it. He is alone when he wears his original attire, but when he wears his party outfit, others surround him, highlighting that his change comes in tandem with company. And of course, he is much happier. The cameras pan to him taking over the dance floor without a hint of his previous self. The transformation is remarkable as he moves with newfound confidence and uninhibited joy.
The pulsating beats of Valley’s Lost in Translation provide the perfect soundtrack to this moment, amplifying the euphoria and capturing the essence of the album’s theme – the power of music to transcend barriers and transform lives. As the crowd joins him, their collective energy ignites, and for that fleeting moment, they are all lost in the music, lost in the magic, and united by the universal language that Valley so effortlessly captures.
Singer, actress, and author Sophia Marie is no stranger to heartbreak. Or so the debut single from her sophomore effort, a song titled “Femme Fatale” would have you believe. With a distinct nod to late 80s/early 90s pop, this track absolutely glitters sonically from the first chord to the very last line. But the subject matter? A bit more tempestuous.
Admits Sophia Marie of the track:
‘Femme Fatale’ is an 80s-inspired ballad that depicts a narrator engaging in reckless, degenerate, and overtly flirtatious behavior because the one man that would make her calm, steady, and stable doesn’t love her back.
It’s a song that attempts to hide its insecurity but then blazes it out in the open, describing the narrator’s process of morphing into something she despises just to stoke envy in her lover’s heart. I was inspired by my own experiences, exaggerating my changes in personality when I became jaded or disillusioned with love, but I also drew heavily upon iconic historical and literary femme fatale figures like Cleopatra, Helen of Troy, and Moulin Rouge’s Satine to give it a sexy ambiance that causes dissonance with its depressing words.
“Femme Fatale” works up a frenzy lyrically, with a disarmingly smooth sound. Get your first listen below.
Pre-save the track here and keep up with Sophia Marie here.
Emerging as a solo artist after her time as the frontwoman of surf-pop band High Wasted, Jessica Louise Dye returns with a new side to her musical persona under the moniker Hello Lightfoot. Taking cues from her experience DJ’ing at clubs and throwing chaotic themed parties, her solo work takes listeners into a more intimate look at herself while keeping a gritty and high octane indie-pop sound. Hello Lightfoot’s sophomore single “shame” is no different, serving as an anthem for personal release.
Backed by a punchy synth-pop instrumental, the track rebels against trauma with an emphatic drive to take back control of one’s own emotions. The beat and vocal melodies in this song does a great job of sonically painting a turbulent journey out of a storm- psychologically speaking, as if Hello Lightfoot and the listener fights through their demons with a sense of optimism and relentlessness. Whereas other songs on similar subjects captures a feeling of suffering, “Shame” feels like a middle finger to your inner self’s spiritual attacker, daring it to try hitting again. On the single’s message, Jessica explains:
The concept of feeling shame is one I can relate to and is distinctly tied to feeling embarrassed or even just shy in social situations. It’s something I’ve worked on a lot. I consider myself an extrovert with introvert tendencies. The line “muzzle be damned” is a reference to silencing your own opinions around others as a means to be more amicable. It’s very easy to lose yourself if you’re catering to the likes and dislikes of others. Being a nice guy can be a curse sometimes.
“Shame” is out on all platforms and stay tuned for Hello Lightfoot’s upcoming project.
New Jersey-based singer/songwriter Christina Nicole is not afraid to bare her soul to an audience if her music will linger as an emotional spark to others. Sculpting her vocal skills in school talent shows and academic programs from middle school to college, Nicole turned to songwriting as a special gift for her artistry.
Her sophomore single “Drifting” captures a range of different emotions washing over herself as if she’s going through a therapeutic experience shocking her system. The sparse instrumentation, with shades of Lorde’s minimalist ambient sonics, is eventually rocked by choppy spurts of synths and drums jabbing towards the back half of the track. This production choice induces a sense of disturbance of one’s moment of peace. Nicole’s pained contemplation, especially “Your oceans they took me, Your oceans they broke me/Your oceans they hurt me, Your oceans they’re too deep”, brings the song to life as an inner sensation of drowning when a special connection of love shifts from a fun ride to a turbulent one. Nicole explains:
This song is about an ocean ruining a person as they sink into it. I chose to use an ocean to represent this story using an ocean for specific reasons. Oceans appear absolutely stunning and entrancing when looking at them from a distance. But as you go in, deeper and deeper, you can no longer keep your head above the ruthless water. Something that appeared so beautiful could easily take everything from a person. This theme can apply to so many scenarios in a person’s life.”
“Drifting” by Christina Nicole is out on all streaming platforms.
In 2021, society feels hollow as people form barriers and images of themselves when forming new connections through the age of social media. Egghunt Records artist Alyssa Gengos trudges through productive routines at home as a shell of her vibrant self in the video for her upcoming single “Mechanical Sweetness”. The VHS-esque cinematography captures a sense of Alyssa’s inner vulnerabilities and yearning for true intimacy as she wanders around activities as if there’s a missing presence filling the void of energy in her life. The video provides a poignant contrast to the track’s sweet yet urgent feel with thumping drums and strings swelling in gradually as Alyssa pleads for an earnest relationship. The artist explains:
Mechanical Sweetness” is a song about my immense frustration with the way we form human (and more specifically, romantic) connections nowadays. Social media and dating apps have turned human interaction into a painful game. These digital ways of communication have caused me so much stress, and my attempts at forging relationships through them have been short-lived and veiled with thin layers of politeness. When the charade between two people who don’t really know each other finally ends, these relationships can be exposed for what they frequently are: unbalanced, unhealthy, and lacking compassion. Sonically, this song mirrors my experiences with largely digital relationships. In the beginning, there are quiet moments of sparse communication where anxiety runs high, eventually leading to an outburst of emotion followed by a period of insecurity and self-questioning.
Check out the video for “Mechanical Sweetness” and stay tuned for Alyssa’s next LP out in 2022.
Michael Garmany grew up in the Bay Area where he was surrounded with a versatile range of artists including 2Pac, The Clash, and Social Distortion. Now, his own music is a reflection of the music he grew up with. This is evident upon listening to his new track, “Still Missing”.
Layered with elements of funk, R&B and psychedelic pop, the track starts off mild with a simple piano and bass as he sings about wanting something that he isn’t sure he is worthy of having. As the verse progresses, the melodies continue to get catchier. Once the chorus hits, the music speeds up and you’ll find yourself dancing along. The catchiness of the melodies is enhanced by various sonic choices throughout the song. These ear-catching additions, such as bells and hand claps, take the song to new heights. Drawing on personal experiences, Garmany is clear that he has been unable to find a love that works for him. During the more up-tempo portions, it might be easy to forget that he is singing about missing something from his life. With various influences present, it doesn’t sound like “Still Missing” is missing anything.
Michelle Ray channels her rich musical background to produce an electrifying summer bop with her new single “Chasing Shadows.” Growing up in an extremely musical home, Ray had an opera singer manager for a grandmother and a rock band manager for a father. Infusing both classical music and rock ‘n roll into her heart, Ray began classical voice training at age 10 and later performed backing vocals on her Dad’s band’s national tours and opened for their sold-out shows in Japan. As she grew and began to think about her own sound, Ray gravitated towards soul/R&B pop music, finding inspiration in talents like Christina Aguilera, Justin Timberlake, and Bruno Mars. In the past years, she has been honing her skills singing in commercials for Maybelline, Mastercard, JCPenny, Nickelodeon and numerous others, and even found her way onto the fourth season of The Voice.
“Chasing Shadows” isn’t just any old summer anthem, it’s a paradoxical juxtaposition of the beauty of summer against the regretful longing for something that’s no longer there. Ray tells us “’Chasing Shadows’ is about thinking you can see or feel this presence everywhere you go but you can never actually hold it, it’s not tangible, so is it real or just your imagination? Instagram-filtered memories and drive-in movie fantasies melt together as we imagine a love that could save us.” From a sonic perspective, the single has a great groove, Ray’s velvety vocals, and crisp backing harmonies; all the fixins for a feel-good dance track. But her words are filled with hard realizations that add a layer of complexity, something that we often experience ourselves over the summer. It’s like a choose-your-own-adventure: you can blast it through your speakers on a hot summer night, lost in the dream-pop/nu-disco sound, letting the musical vibes ease your mind. Or, you can take a moment of reflection and confront the beautiful and wistful nature of summer. Either way, “Chasing Shadows” shows Ray’s ability to use her long-developed breadth of musical knowledge to her advantage.
In an effort to work through the trauma of a psychologically abusive relationship, Caitlin Pasko offers Greenhouse: nine hauntingly pensive songs that aim to heal the self and move on from past wounds. A greenhouse is a structure that protects plant life from unfavourable external conditions, and in the same way Greenhouse provides a safe space for Pasko’s songs to grow and flourish into understanding and acceptance. The album is deeply involved with the concept of space– both in a metaphorical sense with its title, but also in terms of its sonic atmosphere. All the songs exist suspended in space, and silence works hand-in-hand with language to provide room for Pasko’s thoughts to form and evolve. “Ooo Happy”, a fleeting and chilling mid-album interlude has fourteen seconds of silence at the end before moving on. There are no words in this silence, and yet it speaks volumes. Much of Pasko’s gentle and breathy vocals on this album are delicately supported by sparse accompaniment, but each line carries so much weight. The accompaniment sometimes comes in the form of electronic atmospheres or decorative plucked strings, but most often in the form of ambient piano playing. Pasko’s compositions fully explore the tension between dynamics, tempo, and space, reminding one of Satie or Debussy. Her songs feel liberated from tempo, as her vocals and elegant piano melodies freely move like fantasias. In “Unwell”, the placement of each word and each chord is liberated from any sort of beat, but at the same time is deliberate and effective.
“Unwell” is also the first of a trio of songs on Greenhouse, manifested from Pasko’s walks through Brooklyn in 2017. During these walks she experienced dissociation– a kind of out-of-body sensation where she felt like she was floating above herself, viewing herself from a different point of view. Pasko channels this idea of multiple points of views in “Unwell”, “Mother”, and “Even God.” She crafts parallels in her lyrics between songs, such as when she talks about walking a neighbourhood that isn’t hers in “Unwell” and then sings “Today I remembered what it feels like to go walking on the sidewalk in the city that’s not my city” in “Mother”, the lyrics in both songs spilling over one another, feeling like a wandering thought. “Mother” plays with perspective as well, towards the end she sings “She’s my daughter, I’m her sister, she’s my sister, I’m her mother, she’s my mother” and delves into the idea of becoming a mother herself, with a second voice joining her in harmony when she talks about creative another life. “Even God” is written from the perspective of Pasko’s own mother and recalls Greenhouse’s inspiration: an abusive relationship. “Even God” is about being trauma-bonded to an abusive partner, with the principal lyric “Even God is selfish” playing with the idea that “nobody’s perfect.” About the song, Pasko says “‘You can sleep in / just make the bed’ is me saying, ‘I will put up with these bouts of cruelty, because I know you love me.’ It’s dark. I was sick. I was twisting the truth in order to cope with my reality, and as I started to believe my non-truth, I also turned against my friends who wanted to help me. If I believed them, then I’d have to admit to my own hell.”
So while “Even God” is about Pasko’s relationship with her partner, it’s also about how her situation affected her relationship with her friends, and even herself. Greenhouse documents the dissolution of relationships, romantic, platonic, and familial, all the while developing her ever-evolving connection to herself. “I Know I” uses two part harmony to represent Pasko’s child self and her inner mother, and how they communicate. The lower harmony briefly becomes the lead in the middle of the song, but soon enough returns to its original role, functioning as a metaphor for the conversations that take place between the mind and the heart. We hear this metaphorical harmony in “Mother” as well, when Pasko mulls over the possibility of motherhood for herself. At times, the album highlights relationships in the form of a dichotomy, such as in “Horrible Person.” The deeply reflective nature of the track contradicts its themes of self-abandonment and toxic enmeshment. Therefore, the “horrible person” is not only the abuser, but also the self as seen through someone else’s distorted, narcissistic mirror. Pasko composed the track a cappella, alone in her bed, in the dark, in an attempt to develop a reclamation of personal agency. It became the album’s centerpiece, and uses electronic sounds to create tension but also to depict an underwater chasm. Flickers of sound represent neon diatoms that dart around Pasko, eventually overtaking her right before the song ends in a deafening silence.
“Horrible Person” highlights how an abusive relationship can have reverberations in other parts of someone’s life, and when it’s over you have to remedy that. But a part of healing is confronting what happened and believing one’s own survival story. Pasko rewrites the narrative surrounding her experience in “Quiet Weather” and “To The Leaves.” In “Quiet Weather”, Pasko uses metaphors for herself and her partner to evoke imagery of a lake with still waters, showing her sense of lyrical craftsmanship. She attempts to exhume the past to allow herself to move on, singing “When I think of you I take a shovel to my chest and dig as deep as I can get.” “To The Leaves” is an artistic wonder that stitches together fragmented versions of the self in order to regain a sense of personal identity. With the words “It’s hard to believe that I was ever a peach in the leaves / It’s hard to believe that I was ever that version of me,” Pasko calls to attention how a survivor may gaslight herself into not believing her own experience. The piano gently plays haunting suspended chords that send a shiver down your spine.
The effective chords in “To The Leaves” create one of the scarce moments in the album that evokes emotion. Greenhouse is not emotional, it’s passive and composed. Yet it isn’t devoid of feeling. It’s a document; her words and experiences speak for themselves. In the moments where the piano chords deepen or electronic static takes over the space, they only emphasize the already implicit feelings. We hear this in the closing track, “Intimate Distance,” in which Pasko sings to herself as an act of atonement. The opening piano is unsentimental, but as the song progresses it deepens, at times feeling somber but at other times feeling powerful and majestic. “Intimate Distance” is the final step to moving on for Pasko, she clarifies and makes peace with the pain and love that lie beneath her trauma.
Greenhouse is intricate, intellectual, and complex. But so is the path to healing. By the time we get to “Intimate Distance”, we have seen Pasko face her damage from the past, engage with the possibilities of her future, and deal with all of the complications along the way. Her words are utterly beautiful, and packed with exquisite veiled meaning that would take many listens to fully grasp. From its title to its reserved demeanour that is subtly interwoven with emotion, Greenhouse is an understated work of art that needs to be listened to with willing ears and an open heart.
