Throughout these past few years, I have often flirted with the idea that existence is futile. How could you not? However, it’s naive to assume that the fruits for cherishing life are not found ripe for the taking. It’s not that life is futile; it’s that, in our mortal misfortune, it is fleeting.

Vitesse X recognized this when writing “Us Ephemeral,” the title track from her upcoming debut LP, during the initial wave of the pandemic. With the track, she “wanted to express that in embracing our impermanence, we can truly savor the moments that make us whole.” Building a depth of flavor with its endless simmer and dashes of spice, it can only be said that she brings this vision to fruition with flying colors.

As hypnotic in groove as it is mystifying in atmosphere, “Us Ephemeral” fuses the textures of ambient and techno with the pulse of rave and ghostliness of coldwave. Vitesse X’s vocals, reminiscent of Suzanne Vega and Hope Sandoval of Mazzy Star, are interwoven effortlessly atop the water-level synths and bubbling bass of the beat. While its track would be fine in remaining in this dreamy landscape, it’s through adding the shouted samples that bring this track to the dance floor in a 90s club or factory.

The accompanying music video is the ideal aesthetic match for the song. Each frame is shot in a way to accentuate the dreamy, ethereal nature of the track, the fleeting feeling the artist expresses so well. You can watch the Jennifer Medina-directed video and pre-order the album via Bandcamp down below.

Lindsay French has always made electronic pop with a literate attention to detail. As the co-founder of 100% Electronica with partner George Clanton, she originally became known for her trailblazing work as Negative Gemini. Honing her sound with the static edge of Grimes, the trippy textures of Crystal Castles, and the vibey pulse of lo-fi hip-hop beats to study to, French made a name for herself with previous projects, especially 2018’s glorious Bad Boy EP.

Now shortening her name to Neggy Gemmy, French establishes a new direction for herself with latest single “California,” the first track off her upcoming third project. While it certainly contains the trademarks we’ve come to know her for, this new song dazzles with its ability to balance its hazy, “cruise-centric” vibe with its textural and melodic nuance.

The synths used here are grandiose, providing the perfect counterpoint to the uber-compressed kick drum and trap-spiced sub-bass that start the song. Neggy Gemmy’s voice is bratty, hanging on to every syllable with vinegar on her lips. Yet this attitude doesn’t taint the track; rather, it makes the song’s themes of uncertainty and starting over all the more prevalent.

But what’s most impressive about the song, as always, is its intricacy. Transitioning in the back-half to a drumline of snares and hi-hats, the artist adds reverb-soaked sirens and West Coast melodies into the ether, washing out the atmosphere into something that while seemingly euphoric, keeps the listener on edge until the track’s abrupt end. As an introduction to her latest self, “California” is a triumph.

Brooklyn-based artist Sandy Davis, aka Pecas, has always found a mystifying way of combining lo-fi pop with R&B. While many have married these two bedroom-destined genres, rarely is an artist as scrupulous, sensual, or stand-out with their songwriting and performance. Ahead of the release of her debut album, her latest single, “Talking To Myself,” features one of her most captivating emotional performances to date.

While at a standard three and a half minutes, the amount of sonic variance and detail within this span is quite honestly dumbfounding. There’s clattering percussion that sputters away over the ruminous bassline, synth melodies inspired by peak-era Stevie Wonder, even an ornate harpsichord towards the backend that wonderfully compliments the lustful mood.

Pecas’s songs have always carried her smoky, sensual voice, but here her grasp of intimacy has reached new heights. She lets every word linger off the tongue, letting them land gently on her lips before sending them into the ether. It sends chills down your spine – the kind that comes from someone moving their hand through your hair. Yet the lyrics penetrate deep, leaving the subject of her affection to brood in the truth – “You of all people. I’m looking for the hand I gave you when you had nobody else/But I’m talking to myself and I’m talking to you, do you hear me? Help, baby help me.”

Listen to “Talking To Myself” below. You can purchase the single on her Bandcamp page.

Alpen Glow, the solo venture of BBQT and Born At Midnite‘s Amery Sandford, finds inspiration in simplicity. Whether that be in the immediacy of a commercial jingle, or the magnetism of a disco groove, Sandford brings to life a kinetic sense of connection, one that propels the listener out of their bedroom and onto the metaphorical dancefloor. Featuring Jack Bielli (BBQT) on guitar, Marta Cikojevic (TOPS) on keyboard, and David Carriere (TOPS) on production duties, her latest single “Boring Potion” finds a way to blend yacht-rock smoothness with a melt-in-your-mind melody and criminally catchy chorus to achieve this effect.

There’s a lot to love about this song: the teach-yourself-in-five-minutes synth-line, the gorgeous key chords, Sandford’s luscious voice that mystifies with lyrics of the apocalypse and witch’s brew. As if she’s jumping hopscotch, she sings the wonderful chorus of “Coming up on a boring potion/Feeling potent yet hardly noticed.” With light cymbal hits, padded drums and a wonky guitar lead to close out the track, the boring potion of the title proves to be anything but.

To be in bloom is to be achieving your potential. When a flower blossoms, its natural beauty and gifts to the world are offered in full, foremost captivating the senses of sight and smell. It’s place is not only ornamental, but essential, as it contributes to an ecosystem at large in ways we humans can only begin to comprehend. Flowers are common points of inspiration in music, even bordering on trope, because of how these characteristics are aspirational; to enchant simply by existing, by enticing an individual with your mere presence, could be nothing more than euphoric.

You wouldn’t expect this kind of beauty coming from an artist with a name like Ghost Piss. “I went to a haunted Cracker Barrel and asked the manager how a person died in there and they told me and a friend this horrible story about how a guy had died in a urinal while choking on grits,” says River Allen, the mastermind behind the house-infused electronic-pop project. “My stoned ass friend looked at me and was like… damn… Ghost Piss…”

When through repetition that phrase became nothing but “beautiful sounds,” Allen’s friend designated it as her stage name – initially as a joke, but it stuck. “When I first started making music I took myself stiflingly seriously to the point I was paralyzed. Giving myself a ridiculous name just kind of lightened the mood in my own mind! My music didn’t start out as pop, but when things got poppier I was advised to change my name to something more ‘marketable.’ I liked the idea of keeping a kind of limit to how marketable I can set my intentions. I don’t ever want to create from a place of marketability or branding, and Ghost Piss kind of keeps me safe from that ever being a possibility.”

Allen began releasing music under this moniker when she moved to Brooklyn, New York. Initially scouted as a model, she would end up working in the Brooklyn Botanic Gardens and Battery Park as a gardener, continuing to fulfill what she had studied in college. “I went to school for a conservation ecology degree, focused mostly on plant biology and taxonomy,” she exclaims. “I originally started out in medicine, but quickly realized I don’t like thinking about my own insides and am incredibly squeamish. I absolutely adore plants for reasons I would need a whole separate interview to talk about, but when I first started studying them in 2011 I was mostly in love with the fact they didn’t poop, bleed or scream.”

Outside of music, her career in botany is the vocation of her life. She currently works as a botanist for the National Parks Service, where she finds her physical labor and efforts in environmental preservation provide not only fulfilment, but an effort of stewardship. “After working in public horticulture for a few years, I found that my physical labor was lacking a greater purpose. I wanted to plant gardens and control invasives, but not just for, like, rich yuppies in high rises. I learned about the term “restoration ecology,” and fell in love with the idea of regrowing ecosystems that may have been disturbed through fire, coal mining, or human activity. I love this so much more than ornamental gardening, and get to combine my love for botany and horticulture.”

When listening to her new EP Blushing, out now via Styles Upon Styles, one can’t help but detect how this career informs her approach to her artistic craft. Allen’s vocals float like pollen through the air, landing atop the petals of a sunflower – in this case, the drum and bass of each song. She has a knack for singing gracefully with nonchalance, her voice heightened by the pristine sonic quality of the production. But not being as firm in the mix as the beats, it’s as if she is tending the soil, guiding her hand near the stalk of each flower in order to help it stand on its own.

“I love love love pop, but also love love love house music with nasty bass lines and a kick drum you feel up in your liver. My highest priority when crafting my sound is to keep the beat and bassline a little more front and center than the vocals, and for them to always sound a little dirty and rattly.” Almost like topsoil, or perhaps (realistically) more akin to the pulse of an artist like Shamir, with the textural detail of Animal Collective – one of her biggest inspirations.

It may come as a surprise, but Allen’s sound was not always this way. Before her move up north, Allen lived in Richmond, Virginia, where the music community was dominated by harsh noise, hardcore punk and metal. “I decided I would try to contribute to the harsh noise side of things because I was very drawn to electronic music, but was very unwelcomed in that community. I was heartbroken at the rejection I felt, and gave up trying to fit in to my music scene, so I thought, what’s the exact opposite of all this tough guy, wearing all black, scowling on stage macho man bullshit I kept finding everywhere?”

“So the punkest move I could make given the situation was to write the most bubblegum pink in your face pop I could possibly muster. I started lugging pretty heart lights to all my shows, smiling a grin so big it hurt the entire time, and tried my hardest to get people to shake their asses. I know it does seem punk on the surface, but it felt punk to me.”

That punk spirit is, without question, central to Ghost Piss’s music. Maybe not in the “hardcore bro” sense that preceded her origins, but in a way similar to how someone like Karen O takes the most artful approach to the emotions and textures they use. Take EP opener “Worry,” where the reverberated saxophone reminds the listener of Julee Cruise-era synthpop, only to fade out when transitioning into a gritty, sharpened romp of an ending. Her voice fluctuates and impresses with its falsetto range, landing on the listener’s heart as powerfully as their ears.

But she’s also willing to troll and be carefree in her expressions: “Hardcore” is simply one of the most fun electronic songs of the year. The lyrical mastery of a song like this is especially impressive when considering Allen only began writing lyrics when one of her closest friends told her, quite honestly, “she just hates music without words.”

“The first song with lyrics I wrote was just an off the cuff song about how desperately I wished my Tinder dates would brush their teeth and take their dental hygiene seriously. This was a complaint [my friend Rachel and I] shared, so I thought she would especially enjoy it. But I found I liked writing! Even if it was just kind of silly stuff at first. The less seriously I took myself the more and more I wrote. And the more and more I wrote, the more I realized I didn’t have to be Morrisey or Ian Curtis to be a writer.”

“Before I had no outlet, and was pretty self-destructive, but my lyrics are now a pressure release valve for my heart,” she states, reflective of how her progress has led her to this point in her career. She’s cognizant of her own victories, in her career and art, but is moreso aware of the impact of collaboration and the support of others. The Blushing EP ends with three remixes, all of which are excellent – they further articulate the presence of texture found in the original songs, while each possessing a necessary, independent spirit.

“Styles Upon Styles suggested Kareem Ali to me, so I checked out all the music on his bandcamp. I knew I wanted a remix for ‘Worry’ specifically, and wanted someone who really created space in their music. Like whole ass landscape space. Big airy cathedral space. Kareem makes beautiful spaces with whole rafters and floorboards and high ceilings and stained glass windows for my vocals to tumble around in and that’s really all I wanted. Kareem’s vocals are absolutely pristine, and I knew he would treat mine with care. ‘Worry’ is me at my most serious and vulnerable so far, so I needed to put my song in good hands. The first time I heard his remix I cried.”

The first time I heard the remix, I was also floored – I find it difficult not to be engaged with this EP. It’s roots are rife with infectious harmonies, inescapable melodies, aggressive textures and a free spirit of confidence. I find myself mentally envisioning a field of sunflowers for myself to run through, considering they are my favorite. But, being the botanist and the artist, Allen has an adept knowledge as to what each song would be if it were a flower. “‘Worry’ is a Kalmia latifolia. ‘Hardcore’ is a Chamaenerion angustifoloum. ‘Beats in Bed’ is a Silene hookeri.”

Ultimately, with Blushing, River Allen finds herself blossoming into a musical path that is distinct, not only in name, but in texture, pathos, and informed sense of songcraft. Balanced between the ornate and the rugged, the music is as fascinating as it is fun. Like a gardener laboring away to tend to nature’s greatest glories, she crafts her music to achieve a beauty only attainable through efforts of love. There’s only one Ghost Piss in sight and sound – perhaps thankfully, there’s also not a flower with that scent. Allen finds humor when I ask her if such a flower with a smell exists: “As an expert, I absolutely hope to hell there isn’t.”

Like teenagers and bad decisions, camp and horror go hand in hand. So does the experience of discovering your queer attraction, and worrying how you will be judged when others find out. With their latest single “Just Kids,” Philadelphia glam-punk quartet Sixteen Jackies explore these themes of insecurity in youth, all the while seducing with the luscious and impassioned vocals of Jody DeMarco.

Opening with jazzy chords and twinkling keys, Sixteen Jackies‘s “Just Kids” smooths into a bodacious groove that’s as sweet – and retro – as chantilly cream. The sound quality is superb, but what’s most commendable is how the song progresses, building up in momentum and weight while maintaining the breezy, blissful atmosphere. The instrumental on some level feels cinematic, providing a naturalistic score to the pictures being presented by DeMarco’s lyrics.

In contrast to the bubblegum instrumental, the desperation of the protagonist – a closeted boy who loses his virginity – is tangible. He lives in fear that he will be found out, that the judgement of others will affect how he is perceived. With lyrics like “You know damn well that shit stains and it might never get clean,” DeMarco doesn’t hold back from how intense the experience is, and how it can be formative in ways you least expect.

In the video directed by Max R Holland, the band showcase their aesthetic in a satisfying fashion. Drawing from B-movie horror, DeMarco is seen in the woods throughout, being chased by an unknown being from the point of view of the camera. Beyond sending up this slasher trope, the band is seen performing fluorescently in smoky lighting and satin shirts. DeMarco uses all of the provided space, filling the video with the spirit of a caged bird desiring to fly away.

Montreal-based musician JORDANN has gradually accrued a discography of bedroom pop bops, all featuring funky overtones and the smoothest of production. “Funk Olympics” only adds to this, becoming one of the most soigne songs of his bunch. The attention to detail here is fastidious, as each percussive tick, synth flourish and vocal note appears in the exact spot needed to keep the track pulsing with life. As he sings of forgetting the world around him when with his lover, so too will the listener forget about their world as they’re swept up into the song’s irresistible charms.

The music video to the track is also wonderful. Starring the artist, we see JORDANN train for the Olympic Games in Tokyo outside Montreal’s famed Olympic Stadium. He bikes around the globe, from the Taj Mahal to the Pyramids of Giza, eventually landing in Tokyo to represent Canada with pride. Ultimately, he achieves his goal in hilarious fashion, as we find out he’s competing in a Mario Kart race against the likes of Toad. You can watch the video and purchase the single below.

Philadelphia’s Catherine Moan makes electronic pop that yearns. Having recorded her debut album Chain Reaction during the quarantine stage of the coronavirus pandemic, Moan themes her bubbly, euphoric songs around the desire for connection when faced with isolation. “Drop It!” – the lead single from her debut – is a prime example of this ethos, showcasing not only a glistening instrumental and diaphanous vocals, but an irresistible knack for melody and lyricism.

Opening with the pulse of a synth-bass and a groovy drum-beat, “Drop It!” calls the listener to get up off their feet and get into the rhythm. The song builds with candy-coated synth accents, reminiscent of CHVRCHES glitz and the Chromatics’ glam. It’s the chorus that truly shines here – Moan commands with the lyrics “sway it down, it’s so sweet! Drop it down and feel the heat,” sung playfully and nonchalantly to capture the feeling of dancing away your depression.

The song’s music video is an excellent feature for Moan’s playfulness and positivity through hardship. Standing in a red karaoke room, alone in a red blazer, she gets lost in the melody and vibes carefree, enjoying wherever the music might take her as she releases tension. Her smile is infectious, capturing the exact shade of optimism imbued within the song’s synthetic textures. Watch and pre-order via Bandcamp below.