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Like the many Banded Stilts that spread across the cover of her newest album Flood, Stella Donnelly is wading into uncharted territory. Here, she finds herself discovering who she is as an artist among the flock, and how abundant one individual can be. Flood is Donnelly's record of this rediscovery: the product of months of risky experimentation, hard moments of introspection, and a lot of moving around. Donnelly's early reflections on the relationship between the individual and the many can be traced back to her time in the rainforests of Bellingen, where she took to birdwatching as both a hobby and an escape in a borderrestricted world. By paying closer attention to the natural world around her, Donnelly recalls "I was able to lose that feeling of anyone's reaction to me. I forgot who I was as a musician, which was a humbling experience of just being; being my small self." Reconnecting with this `small self' allowed Donnelly to tap into creative wells she didn't know existed. Soon songs were coming to her in a way she could not control and over the coming months, Donnelly accumulated 43 tracks as she moved out of Bellingen and around the country, often finding herself displaced due to border restrictions and a tough rental market. Though the writing of Flood was an intensely personal undertaking, Donnelly still saw the recording process as one of her most collaborative projects yet. Along with her band members, co-producing the record beside Anna Laverty and Methyl Ethyl's Jake Webb helped to foster an important spontaneity in the studio. With Webb, Donnelly could "dig in" and discover a "forward-leaning sound" she'd been searching for, while Laverty's ability to "capture the piano" and discern the "perfect take" allowed the songwriter to take risks, many of which have clearly paid off. Looking back at the Banded Stilt, Donnelly ultimately appreciates how when "seen in a crowd they create an optical illusion, but on its own it's this singular piece of art." While each song in Flood is a singular artwork unto itself, the collective shares all of Stella Donnelly in abundance: her inner child, her nurturing self, her nightmare self; all of herself has gone into the making of this record, and although it would take an ocean to fathom everything she feels, it's well worth diving in.

Like the many Banded Stilts that spread across the cover of her newest album Flood, Stella Donnelly is wading into uncharted territory. Here, she finds herself discovering who she is as an artist among the flock, and how abundant one individual can be. Flood is Donnelly's record of this rediscovery: the product of months of risky experimentation, hard moments of introspection, and a lot of moving around. Donnelly's early reflections on the relationship between the individual and the many can be traced back to her time in the rainforests of Bellingen, where she took to birdwatching as both a hobby and an escape in a borderrestricted world. By paying closer attention to the natural world around her, Donnelly recalls "I was able to lose that feeling of anyone's reaction to me. I forgot who I was as a musician, which was a humbling experience of just being; being my small self." Reconnecting with this `small self' allowed Donnelly to tap into creative wells she didn't know existed. Soon songs were coming to her in a way she could not control and over the coming months, Donnelly accumulated 43 tracks as she moved out of Bellingen and around the country, often finding herself displaced due to border restrictions and a tough rental market. Though the writing of Flood was an intensely personal undertaking, Donnelly still saw the recording process as one of her most collaborative projects yet. Along with her band members, co-producing the record beside Anna Laverty and Methyl Ethyl's Jake Webb helped to foster an important spontaneity in the studio. With Webb, Donnelly could "dig in" and discover a "forward-leaning sound" she'd been searching for, while Laverty's ability to "capture the piano" and discern the "perfect take" allowed the songwriter to take risks, many of which have clearly paid off. Looking back at the Banded Stilt, Donnelly ultimately appreciates how when "seen in a crowd they create an optical illusion, but on its own it's this singular piece of art." While each song in Flood is a singular artwork unto itself, the collective shares all of Stella Donnelly in abundance: her inner child, her nurturing self, her nightmare self; all of herself has gone into the making of this record, and although it would take an ocean to fathom everything she feels, it's well worth diving in.

Like the many Banded Stilts that spread across the cover of her newest album Flood, Stella Donnelly is wading into uncharted territory. Here, she finds herself discovering who she is as an artist among the flock, and how abundant one individual can be. Flood is Donnelly's record of this rediscovery: the product of months of risky experimentation, hard moments of introspection, and a lot of moving around. Donnelly's early reflections on the relationship between the individual and the many can be traced back to her time in the rainforests of Bellingen, where she took to birdwatching as both a hobby and an escape in a borderrestricted world. By paying closer attention to the natural world around her, Donnelly recalls "I was able to lose that feeling of anyone's reaction to me. I forgot who I was as a musician, which was a humbling experience of just being; being my small self." Reconnecting with this `small self' allowed Donnelly to tap into creative wells she didn't know existed. Soon songs were coming to her in a way she could not control and over the coming months, Donnelly accumulated 43 tracks as she moved out of Bellingen and around the country, often finding herself displaced due to border restrictions and a tough rental market. Though the writing of Flood was an intensely personal undertaking, Donnelly still saw the recording process as one of her most collaborative projects yet. Along with her band members, co-producing the record beside Anna Laverty and Methyl Ethyl's Jake Webb helped to foster an important spontaneity in the studio. With Webb, Donnelly could "dig in" and discover a "forward-leaning sound" she'd been searching for, while Laverty's ability to "capture the piano" and discern the "perfect take" allowed the songwriter to take risks, many of which have clearly paid off. Looking back at the Banded Stilt, Donnelly ultimately appreciates how when "seen in a crowd they create an optical illusion, but on its own it's this singular piece of art." While each song in Flood is a singular artwork unto itself, the collective shares all of Stella Donnelly in abundance: her inner child, her nurturing self, her nightmare self; all of herself has gone into the making of this record, and although it would take an ocean to fathom everything she feels, it's well worth diving in.

Julien Ehrlich and Max Kakacek could hear the staggering differences in the songs they were writing for their third album as Whitney, Spark _ the buoyant drum loops, the effortless falsetto hooks, the coruscant keyboard lines. They suddenly sounded like a band reimagined, their once-ramshackle folk-pop now brimming with unprecedented gusto and sheen. But could they see it, too? So in the ad hoc studio the Chicago duo built in the living room of their rented Portland bungalow, a shared 2020 escape hatch amid breakups and lockdowns, Julien and Max decided to find out. Somewhere between midnight and dawn every night, their brains refracted by the late hour and light psychedelics, they'd play their latest creations while a hardware store disco ball spun overhead and slowed-down music videos from megastars spooled silently on YouTube. Did their own pop songs _ so much more immediate and modern than their hazy origins _ fit such big-budget reels? "We'd come to the conclusion we weren't going to be filming Super 8 videos to this stuff anymore," Julien remembers with a grin. "How about something more hi-fi, cinematic?" When the footage and the tunes linked, Julien and Max knew they had done it, that they'd finally found Whitney's sound. Spark reintroduces Whitney as a contemporary syndicate of classic pop, its dozen imaginative and endearing tracks wrapping fetching melodies around paisley-print Dilla beats and luxuriant electronics. What's more, Whitney reduces three years of extreme emotional highs and lows into 38 brisk but deep minutes, each of these 12 tracks a singable lesson in what it is they (and, really, we) have all survived. The recalcitrant ennui of opener "nothing REMAINS," the devastating loss of "TERMINAL," the sun-streaked renewal of "real Love": However surprising it may sound, Spark is less a radical reinvention for Whitney than an honest accounting of how it feels when you move out of your past and into your present, when you take the next steps of your lives and careers at once and without apology. Spark maintains the warmth and ease of Whitney's early work; these songs glow with the newness of now. Listen closely, and you'll notice frequent references to smoke and fire throughout Spark, itself a double entendre for inspiring something new or burning down the old. Max and Julien were indeed in Portland for the Fall of 2020, when smoke from nearby fires choked the city at record levels. It was terrifying and tragic, but they pressed on. "We found a way to live while the world was burning/Real life was caving in," Julien sings almost merrily during "back THEN," an anthem for finding out what's on the other side of hardship. In these dire days, scientists speak increasingly of serotiny, an evolutionary miracle that causes some trees to release seeds only amid a season of fire. That is how Spark often feels _ Whitney's circumstances were so fraught on so many levels that they hung "the past_out to dry" and began again, finding a fresh version of themselves, their relationship, and their band after the blaze. Max and Julien are back in Chicago now, sharing a cozy walkup with a little studio, where they're already building songs for the next Whitney album. They're both in happy romances, too. Now that they let the past burn, everything is new for Max and Julien. Spark is not only Whitney's best album; it is an inspiring testament to perseverance and renewal, to best friends trusting each another enough to carry one another to the other side of this season of woe.

Julien Ehrlich and Max Kakacek could hear the staggering differences in the songs they were writing for their third album as Whitney, Spark - the buoyant drum loops, the effortless falsetto hooks, the coruscate keyboard lines. They suddenly sounded like a band reimagined, their once-ramshackle folk-pop now brimming with unprecedented gusto and sheen. But could they see it, too? So in the ad hoc studio the Chicago duo built in the living room of their rented Portland bungalow, a shared 2020 escape hatch amid breakups and lockdowns, Julien and Max decided to find out. Somewhere between midnight and dawn every night, their brains refracted by the late hour and light psychedelics, they'd play their latest creations while a hardware store disco ball spun overhead and slowed-down music videos from megastars spooled silently on YouTube. Did their own pop songs _ so much more immediate and modern than their hazy origins _ fit such big-budget reels? "We'd come to the conclusion we weren't going to be filming Super 8 videos to this stuff anymore," Julien remembers with a grin. "How about something more hi-fi, cinematic?" When the footage and the tunes linked, Julien and Max knew they had done it, that they'd finally found Whitney's sound. Spark reintroduces Whitney as a contemporary syndicate of classic pop, its dozen imaginative and endearing tracks wrapping fetching melodies around paisley-print Dilla beats and luxuriant electronics. What's more, Whitney reduces three years of extreme emotional highs and lows into 38 brisk but deep minutes, each of these 12 tracks a singable lesson in what it is they (and, really, we) have all survived. The recalcitrant ennui of opener "nothing REMAINS," the devastating loss of "TERMINAL," the sun-streaked renewal of "real Love": However surprising it may sound, Spark is less a radical reinvention for Whitney than an honest accounting of how it feels when you move out of your past and into your present, when you take the next steps of your lives and careers at once and without apology. Spark maintains the warmth and ease of Whitney's early work; these songs glow with the newness of now. Listen closely, and you'll notice frequent references to smoke and fire throughout Spark, itself a double entendre for inspiring something new or burning down the old. Max and Julien were indeed in Portland for the Fall of 2020, when smoke from nearby fires choked the city at record levels. It was terrifying and tragic, but they pressed on. "We found a way to live while the world was burning/Real life was caving in," Julien sings almost merrily during "back THEN," an anthem for finding out what's on the other side of hardship. In these dire days, scientists speak increasingly of scrutiny, an evolutionary miracle that causes some trees to release seeds only amid a season of fire. That is how Spark often feels _ Whitney's circumstances were so fraught on so many levels that they hung "the past_out to dry" and began again, finding a fresh version of themselves, their relationship, and their band after the blaze. Max and Julien are back in Chicago now, sharing a cozy walk up with a little studio, where they're already building songs for the next Whitney album. They're both in happy romances, too. Now that they let the past burn, everything is new for Max and Julien. Spark is not only Whitney's best album; it is an inspiring testament to perseverance and renewal, to best friends trusting each another enough to carry one another to the other side of this season of woe.

Julien Ehrlich and Max Kakacek could hear the staggering differences in the songs they were writing for their third album as Whitney, Spark _ the buoyant drum loops, the effortless falsetto hooks, the coruscant keyboard lines. They suddenly sounded like a band reimagined, their once-ramshackle folk-pop now brimming with unprecedented gusto and sheen. But could they see it, too? So in the ad hoc studio the Chicago duo built in the living room of their rented Portland bungalow, a shared 2020 escape hatch amid breakups and lockdowns, Julien and Max decided to find out. Somewhere between midnight and dawn every night, their brains refracted by the late hour and light psychedelics, they'd play their latest creations while a hardware store disco ball spun overhead and slowed-down music videos from megastars spooled silently on YouTube. Did their own pop songs _ so much more immediate and modern than their hazy origins _ fit such big-budget reels? "We'd come to the conclusion we weren't going to be filming Super 8 videos to this stuff anymore," Julien remembers with a grin. "How about something more hi-fi, cinematic?" When the footage and the tunes linked, Julien and Max knew they had done it, that they'd finally found Whitney's sound. Spark reintroduces Whitney as a contemporary syndicate of classic pop, its dozen imaginative and endearing tracks wrapping fetching melodies around paisley-print Dilla beats and luxuriant electronics. What's more, Whitney reduces three years of extreme emotional highs and lows into 38 brisk but deep minutes, each of these 12 tracks a singable lesson in what it is they (and, really, we) have all survived. The recalcitrant ennui of opener "nothing REMAINS," the devastating loss of "TERMINAL," the sun-streaked renewal of "real Love": However surprising it may sound, Spark is less a radical reinvention for Whitney than an honest accounting of how it feels when you move out of your past and into your present, when you take the next steps of your lives and careers at once and without apology. Spark maintains the warmth and ease of Whitney's early work; these songs glow with the newness of now. Listen closely, and you'll notice frequent references to smoke and fire throughout Spark, itself a double entendre for inspiring something new or burning down the old. Max and Julien were indeed in Portland for the Fall of 2020, when smoke from nearby fires choked the city at record levels. It was terrifying and tragic, but they pressed on. "We found a way to live while the world was burning/Real life was caving in," Julien sings almost merrily during "back THEN," an anthem for finding out what's on the other side of hardship. In these dire days, scientists speak increasingly of serotiny, an evolutionary miracle that causes some trees to release seeds only amid a season of fire. That is how Spark often feels _ Whitney's circumstances were so fraught on so many levels that they hung "the past_out to dry" and began again, finding a fresh version of themselves, their relationship, and their band after the blaze. Max and Julien are back in Chicago now, sharing a cozy walkup with a little studio, where they're already building songs for the next Whitney album. They're both in happy romances, too. Now that they let the past burn, everything is new for Max and Julien. Spark is not only Whitney's best album; it is an inspiring testament to perseverance and renewal, to best friends trusting each another enough to carry one another to the other side of this season of woe.

Julien Ehrlich and Max Kakacek could hear the staggering differences in the songs they were writing for their third album as Whitney, Spark _ the buoyant drum loops, the effortless falsetto hooks, the coruscant keyboard lines. They suddenly sounded like a band reimagined, their once-ramshackle folk-pop now brimming with unprecedented gusto and sheen. But could they see it, too? So in the ad hoc studio the Chicago duo built in the living room of their rented Portland bungalow, a shared 2020 escape hatch amid breakups and lockdowns, Julien and Max decided to find out. Somewhere between midnight and dawn every night, their brains refracted by the late hour and light psychedelics, they'd play their latest creations while a hardware store disco ball spun overhead and slowed-down music videos from megastars spooled silently on YouTube. Did their own pop songs _ so much more immediate and modern than their hazy origins _ fit such big-budget reels? "We'd come to the conclusion we weren't going to be filming Super 8 videos to this stuff anymore," Julien remembers with a grin. "How about something more hi-fi, cinematic?" When the footage and the tunes linked, Julien and Max knew they had done it, that they'd finally found Whitney's sound. Spark reintroduces Whitney as a contemporary syndicate of classic pop, its dozen imaginative and endearing tracks wrapping fetching melodies around paisley-print Dilla beats and luxuriant electronics. What's more, Whitney reduces three years of extreme emotional highs and lows into 38 brisk but deep minutes, each of these 12 tracks a singable lesson in what it is they (and, really, we) have all survived. The recalcitrant ennui of opener "nothing REMAINS," the devastating loss of "TERMINAL," the sun-streaked renewal of "real Love": However surprising it may sound, Spark is less a radical reinvention for Whitney than an honest accounting of how it feels when you move out of your past and into your present, when you take the next steps of your lives and careers at once and without apology. Spark maintains the warmth and ease of Whitney's early work; these songs glow with the newness of now. Listen closely, and you'll notice frequent references to smoke and fire throughout Spark, itself a double entendre for inspiring something new or burning down the old. Max and Julien were indeed in Portland for the Fall of 2020, when smoke from nearby fires choked the city at record levels. It was terrifying and tragic, but they pressed on. "We found a way to live while the world was burning/Real life was caving in," Julien sings almost merrily during "back THEN," an anthem for finding out what's on the other side of hardship. In these dire days, scientists speak increasingly of serotiny, an evolutionary miracle that causes some trees to release seeds only amid a season of fire. That is how Spark often feels _ Whitney's circumstances were so fraught on so many levels that they hung "the past_out to dry" and began again, finding a fresh version of themselves, their relationship, and their band after the blaze. Max and Julien are back in Chicago now, sharing a cozy walkup with a little studio, where they're already building songs for the next Whitney album. They're both in happy romances, too. Now that they let the past burn, everything is new for Max and Julien. Spark is not only Whitney's best album; it is an inspiring testament to perseverance and renewal, to best friends trusting each another enough to carry one another to the other side of this season of woe.

It could only be called alchemy, the transformative magic that happens during the Yeah Yeah Yeahs' most tuned-in moments in the studio, when their unique chemistry sparks opens a portal, and out comes a song like "Maps" or "Zero" or the latest addition to their canon, "Spitting off the Edge of the World featuring Perfume Genius" _ an epic shot-to-the-heart of pure YYYs beauty and power. A thunderstorm of a return is what the legendary trio has in store for us on Cool It Down, their fifth studio album and their first since 2013's Mosquito. The eight-track collection, bound to be a landmark in their catalog, is an expert distillation of their best gifts that impels you to move, and cry, and listen closely.

It could only be called alchemy, the transformative magic that happens during the Yeah Yeah Yeahs' most tuned-in moments in the studio, when their unique chemistry sparks opens a portal, and out comes a song like "Maps" or "Zero" or the latest addition to their canon, "Spitting off the Edge of the World featuring Perfume Genius" _ an epic shot-to-the-heart of pure YYYs beauty and power. A thunderstorm of a return is what the legendary trio has in store for us on Cool It Down, their fifth studio album and their first since 2013's Mosquito. The eight-track collection, bound to be a landmark in their catalog, is an expert distillation of their best gifts that impels you to move, and cry, and listen closely.

Nnamdi has never been able to stay in one place. The Chicago multi-instrumentalist and songwriter set a blistering pace in 2020 with his critically acclaimed genre-fusing LP Brat, a punk EP Black Plight, and Krazy Karl, a full-length tribute to Looney Tunes composer Carl Stalling. Add in his role as co-owner of label Sooper Records, as well as recent tours with Wilco, Sleater-Kinney, and black midi, and it's an overwhelming schedule. However, his latest album, Please Have A Seat, is the result of a much needed pause. "I realized I never take time to just sit and take in where I'm at," says Nnamdi. "It's just nice to not be on `Go, Go, Go!' mode, and reevaluate where I wanted to go musically." This period of reflection allowed him to take stock of his life and his relationships. "I wanted to be present," he says. "Each song came from a moment of clarity." Please Have A Seat serves as an invitation to listen. It's a request to sit down, be present, and take in a moment. With this quiet introspection, Nnamdi found inspiration in silence and nuance. While making the record, he decided to stretch the limits of his pop songwriting: every track had to be hummable. Though he's written earworms throughout his career from playing in bands in Chicago's DIY community or releasing goofy raps as Nnamdi's Sooper Dooper Secret Side Project, here, his shapeshifting hooks are undeniable. Each of the album's fourteen songs, which Nnamdi wrote, produced, and performed entirely himself, are relentlessly replayable, careening into unexpected and disorienting places. With Nnamdi's singular vision, Please Have A Seat is yet another leap from Chicago's hardest working musician. By taking a minute to sit down and catch his breath, he reemerged with the most ambitious, accessible, and nuanced work of his career.

Nnamdi has never been able to stay in one place. The Chicago multi-instrumentalist and songwriter set a blistering pace in 2020 with his critically acclaimed genre-fusing LP Brat, a punk EP Black Plight, and Krazy Karl, a full-length tribute to Looney Tunes composer Carl Stalling. Add in his role as co-owner of label Sooper Records, as well as recent tours with Wilco, Sleater-Kinney, and black midi, and it's an overwhelming schedule. However, his latest album, Please Have A Seat, is the result of a much needed pause. "I realized I never take time to just sit and take in where I'm at," says Nnamdi. "It's just nice to not be on `Go, Go, Go!' mode, and reevaluate where I wanted to go musically." This period of reflection allowed him to take stock of his life and his relationships. "I wanted to be present," he says. "Each song came from a moment of clarity." Please Have A Seat serves as an invitation to listen. It's a request to sit down, be present, and take in a moment. With this quiet introspection, Nnamdi found inspiration in silence and nuance. While making the record, he decided to stretch the limits of his pop songwriting: every track had to be hummable. Though he's written earworms throughout his career from playing in bands in Chicago's DIY community or releasing goofy raps as Nnamdi's Sooper Dooper Secret Side Project, here, his shapeshifting hooks are undeniable. Each of the album's fourteen songs, which Nnamdi wrote, produced, and performed entirely himself, are relentlessly replayable, careening into unexpected and disorienting places. With Nnamdi's singular vision, Please Have A Seat is yet another leap from Chicago's hardest working musician. By taking a minute to sit down and catch his breath, he reemerged with the most ambitious, accessible, and nuanced work of his career.

Helen Ballentine's spellbinding first full-length album Quiet the Room is the sound of a window opening, a barrier dissolving. Across these fourteen tracks, the outside world seeps in and the inside world crawls out. The result is a stunning and quietly moving work that reflects the journeys we take through the physical and spiritual realms of ourselves in order to show up for the world. While writing the album in the summer of 2021, Ballentine drew inspiration from her childhood home in Mount Vernon, NY. What she set out to capture on Quiet the Room was not the innocence of childhood, as it is so often portrayed, but the intense complexity of it. Past and present merge Escher-like in this dreamlike space laced with elements of fantasy, magic, and mystery. Musically, this translates into a sound that feels somehow weighty and ephemeral all at once, like a time lapse of copper corroding. To capture the effortless blend of electronic, ambient, folk, and rock, Ballentine and her partner and collaborator Noah Weinman brought in producer Andrew Sarlo to record at Chicken Shack studio in Upstate New York, close to where Ballentine grew up. "We wanted every song to have that little twinkle, but also a sense of crumbling," she says. These songs thrum with moments of anxiety that boil over into moments of peace, as on lead single "Whatever Fits Together," which chugs to a ragged start before the gears catch and ease. On "It's Like a Secret," Ballentine struggles to connect and let people in, recognizing that no one can ever fully know our inner worlds and that to understand each other is to cross a barrier and leave a part of ourselves behind. And yet, on closing track "You are my House," she finds a way to reach out. "You are the walls and floors of my room," she sings in perfect, hopeful harmony. As the album cover invites, these are dollhouse songs to which we bend a giant eye, peering into the laminate, luminous world that Ballentine has created. Like a kid constructing a shelter in a patch of sharp brambles, she r...

Car Therapy Sessions is an EP of new and re-imagined songs by Faye Webster recorded at Spacebomb Studios with a 24 piece orchestra. The orchestra was headed by Trey Pollard who was responsible for both conducting and arranging, and Drew Vandenburg produced and mixed the EP. Car Therapy Sessions will be available on vinyl in the fall and is available to pre-order on April 13th. "I have a vivid memory of walking around London in 2018 listening to a mix of Jonny, which I had just written. I remember thinking "I want to perform this song with an orchestra". I truly have had my heart set on it since then, always talking about it and figuring out how or when to make it happen," says Webster. On the EP, Webster reimagines three songs from her critically acclaimed 2021 release I Know I'm Funny haha and 2019's Atlanta Millionaires Club. The songs "Kind Of", "Sometimes" and "Cheers" take on a cinematic and glimmering new sheen. In addition to the title track -"Car Therapy" - she also shares a sprawling and emotional work - "Suite: Jonny" - which combines fan-favorites "Jonny" and "Jonny (Reprise)." The two songs originally appeared on the Atlanta Millionaire's Club tracklist, two different views on the same narrative. Here they're presented together. It's remarkable how beautifully Webster's work can take on this orchestral treatment. Like Cole Porter, or Judy Garland - her delicate and emotional delivery packs a gut punch when dramatized by the EP's robust arrangements.

Helen Ballentine's spellbinding first full-length album Quiet the Room is the sound of a window opening, a barrier dissolving. Across these fourteen tracks, the outside world seeps in and the inside world crawls out. The result is a stunning and quietly moving work that reflects the journeys we take through the physical and spiritual realms of ourselves in order to show up for the world. While writing the album in the summer of 2021, Ballentine drew inspiration from her childhood home in Mount Vernon, NY. What she set out to capture on Quiet the Room was not the innocence of childhood, as it is so often portrayed, but the intense complexity of it. Past and present merge Escher-like in this dreamlike space laced with elements of fantasy, magic, and mystery. Musically, this translates into a sound that feels somehow weighty and ephemeral all at once, like a time lapse of copper corroding. To capture the effortless blend of electronic, ambient, folk, and rock, Ballentine and her partner and collaborator Noah Weinman brought in producer Andrew Sarlo to record at Chicken Shack studio in Upstate New York, close to where Ballentine grew up. "We wanted every song to have that little twinkle, but also a sense of crumbling," she says. These songs thrum with moments of anxiety that boil over into moments of peace, as on lead single "Whatever Fits Together," which chugs to a ragged start before the gears catch and ease. On "It's Like a Secret," Ballentine struggles to connect and let people in, recognizing that no one can ever fully know our inner worlds and that to understand each other is to cross a barrier and leave a part of ourselves behind. And yet, on closing track "You are my House," she finds a way to reach out. "You are the walls and floors of my room," she sings in perfect, hopeful harmony. As the album cover invites, these are dollhouse songs to which we bend a giant eye, peering into the laminate, luminous world that Ballentine has created. Like a kid constructing a shelter in a patch of sharp brambles, she r...

Car Therapy Sessions is an EP of new and re-imagined songs by Faye Webster recorded at Spacebomb Studios with a 24 piece orchestra. The orchestra was headed by Trey Pollard who was responsible for both conducting and arranging, and Drew Vandenburg produced and mixed the EP. Car Therapy Sessions willbe available on vinyl in the fall and is available to pre-order on April 13th. "I have a vivid memory of walking around London in 2018 listening to a mix of Jonny, which I had just written. I remember thinking "I want to perform this song with an orchestra". I truly have had my heart set on it since then, always talking about it and figuring out how or when to make it happen," says Webster. On the EP, Webster reimagines three songs from her critically acclaimed 2021 release I Know I'm Funny haha and 2019's Atlanta Millionaires Club. The songs "Kind Of", "Sometimes" and "Cheers" take on a cinematic and glimmering new sheen. In addition to the title track -"Car Therapy" - she also shares a sprawling and emotional work - "Suite: Jonny" - which combines fan-favorites "Jonny" and "Jonny (Reprise)." The two songs originally appeared on the Atlanta Millionaire's Club tracklist, two different views on the same narrative. Here they're presented together.It's remarkable how beautifully Webster's work can take on thisorchestral treatment. Like Cole Porter, or Judy Garland - herdelicate and emotional delivery packs a gut punch when dramatized by the EP's robust arrangements.

This is the first-ever physical pressing of fan favourite track "7 Seconds" and includes never previously heard demo of track from Top 40 Album - 'Waterslide, Diving Board, Ladder To The Sky'. The release will be hand numbered and limited to 1000. "7 Seconds" has amassed over 3.4 million streams!

For polymath artist Wesley Joseph, writing a song is like shooting a film. He sees in terms of scenes and colors, lighting the proper mood, drawing the right emotional arc_far beyond just getting a catchy melody down on tape. Music and filmmaking are Joseph's two great loves. Film came first_he started making DIY videos at age 12 to entertain himself and his friends growing up in a small UK community_but when he moved to London to study it, the energy he discovered in the city demanded to be captured in song, resulting in his 2021 debut Ultramarine, a distinctly cinematic collection of avant-R&B and soulful future-pop shot through with moments of surprising aggression and an intriguingly complex postmillennial aura. Since collaborating with the likes of Jorja Smith and Loyle Carner, he returns with Glow, eight more songs of love, loss, anxiety, and joy about coming of age at a time of unprecedented change. Showcasing his range across songwriting, performing, and production_not to mention his flawless transitions between singing and rapping, between character studies and raw emotional honesty_it's a stunningly beautiful work that makes it clear Joseph's on the path to becoming a worldchanging talent. As on previous projects, Joseph is providing his own visual accompaniments for Glow, creative directing its artwork and directing its first video. "cold Summer" finds Joseph singing from a supervillain's perspective over woozy film-score strings, and the concept bleeds over into its video accompaniment, a cryptic post-post-Tarantino gangster comedy shot in Kazakhstan. It's usually hyperbole to call an artist as young and new as Joseph "visionary," but it's undeniable that he has a vision, one that transcends old ideas of genre and medium, one that seems to get bigger and richer every time he steps into a studio or behind a camera. Glow is one of the deepest and most satisfyingly cinematic listening experiences of the year_and Wesley Joseph is just getting started.

Baby Rose makes healing music for the aimless and heartbroken. The Grammy-nominated singer/songwriter and producer's uniquely rich voice naturally lends itself to her powerful, smoke-filled ballads lamenting lost loves and broken futures. "I make music to help myself get through things," she says. The piercing honesty and vulnerability she brings to her lyrics in turn helps others process their feelings and find a place of healing. For Rose, it's a journey that's still ongoing. "If I'm going to leave anything behind, it's going to be getting people back to themselves," she says. "As I get back to myself, it's a constant reset: Remember who you are, remember who you want to be." You can hear the impact of this approach in Baby Rose's upcoming second album, Through and Through. Take the hypnotic "Fight Club." Over the track's simmering baseline and crashing cymbals, she declares, "I don't need no one else to show me the way." She describes the song as a "breaking of the shell. It encourages me to just go for it and not care about what anyone else thinks." Therein lies Baby Rose's strength: a determination to live, love, and create on her own terms. "I'm not just a singer with a unique voice," she says. "I'm somebody that has something to say." In the years since releasing her last album, To Myself, Rose has been painstakingly piecing together its sequel. Started almost immediately after its release, her new body of work finds her in a state of musical and personal transition. It's a subtle merging of new sounds_stirring rock, upbeat r&b, psychedelic funk, pop, and soulful ballads_, all mastered through analog tape to make the music feel warmer and all-encompassing. It's also a journey inward as she battles past fear and self-doubt to finally discover_and love_who she is, where she is. Finishing an album with such peace and firm resolution is a first for Rose, but she makes it clear: She's nowhere near done writing her story. "I think as long as I'm being raw and trying to push past my comfort zone, it will feel rewarding," she says. "I don't want to be the type that doesn't take risks because I'm afraid. I have to trust that as long as the music is honest and innovative, it'll be timeless."

Love + POP is a snapshot of a moment in not-so-far-away time; something fast, loud, moody and a little dangerous. It is, in some ways, classic Current Joys: full of wild ambition, sneaky hooks, and songs that move from concept to completion with prolific speed. But Love + POP also explodes myriad expectations with aggressive, deconstructed production, house music influence, and a guest appearance from Lil Yachty. It is not so much a twist as it is a unique multiverse identity for Current Joys, as Nick Rattigan's set out to "capture this sonic moment and harken back to the way I first released music." The story of Love + POP begins with one of those house parties: the kind that bulldozes your home and, in its aftermath, leaves a wreckage that finds you flattened but also ready to be new. In that mess and mayhem, Rattigan watched Everybody's Everything, the documentary of Lil Peep, and recorded a cover of "walk away as the door slams". But the itch wasn't scratched, and what began as a moment of homage morphed into something bigger, deeper and more fundamental, a point where the seemingly haphazard - in his home, in Peep's process - opened Rattigan up to an entire creative space and a new approach to bending or even detonating genre. Crucially, all of this was recorded at home, in what Rattigan calls a "tribute to the process of creating" in a DIY space. And what began as a singular passion project unexpectedly grew into a uniquely collaborative record for Current Joys. "I've set out to make collaborative records before," Rattigan explains, "but they often end up totally me, with just a couple exceptions. But then this record gave me the opportunity to be extremely collaborative, to let other people write instrumental tracks, sending links around for people to mess with and weigh in on. I sat down to do credits and realized here were all these people and styles and they all came together and worked." Love + POP's cover art is an airbrush/spraypaint rendition of the Wild Heart album cover, which is itself a photo of Rattigan's grandparents kissing. It is sacred in some ways and shredded in others. This idea - the aggressive reimagining of something timeless into a present, finite style - is Love + POP.

Love + POP is a snapshot of a moment in not-so-far-away time; something fast, loud, moody and a little dangerous. It is, in some ways, classic Current Joys: full of wild ambition, sneaky hooks, and songs that move from concept to completion with prolific speed. But Love + POP also explodes myriad expectations with aggressive, deconstructed production, house music influence, and a guest appearance from Lil Yachty. It is not so much a twist as it is a unique multiverse identity for Current Joys, as Nick Rattigan's set out to "capture this sonic moment and harken back to the way I first released music." The story of Love + POP begins with one of those house parties: the kind that bulldozes your home and, in its aftermath, leaves a wreckage that finds you flattened but also ready to be new. In that mess and mayhem, Rattigan watched Everybody's Everything, the documentary of Lil Peep, and recorded a cover of "walk away as the door slams". But the itch wasn't scratched, and what began as a moment of homage morphed into something bigger, deeper and more fundamental, a point where the seemingly haphazard - in his home, in Peep's process - opened Rattigan up to an entire creative space and a new approach to bending or even detonating genre. Crucially, all of this was recorded at home, in what Rattigan calls a "tribute to the process of creating" in a DIY space. And what began as a singular passion project unexpectedly grew into a uniquely collaborative record for Current Joys. "I've set out to make collaborative records before," Rattigan explains, "but they often end up totally me, with just a couple exceptions. But then this record gave me the opportunity to be extremely collaborative, to let other people write instrumental tracks, sending links around for people to mess with and weigh in on. I sat down to do credits and realized here were all these people and styles and they all came together and worked." Love + POP's cover art is an airbrush/spraypaint rendition of the Wild Heart album cover, which is itself a photo of Rattigan's grandparents kissing. It is sacred in some ways and shredded in others. This idea - the aggressive reimagining of something timeless into a present, finite style - is Love + POP.

Love + POP is a snapshot of a moment in not-so-far-away time; something fast, loud, moody and a little dangerous. It is, in some ways, classic Current Joys: full of wild ambition, sneaky hooks, and songs that move from concept to completion with prolific speed. But Love + POP also explodes myriad expectations with aggressive, deconstructed production, house music influence, and a guest appearance from Lil Yachty. It is not so much a twist as it is a unique multiverse identity for Current Joys, as Nick Rattigan's set out to "capture this sonic moment and harken back to the way I first released music." The story of Love + POP begins with one of those house parties: the kind that bulldozes your home and, in its aftermath, leaves a wreckage that finds you flattened but also ready to be new. In that mess and mayhem, Rattigan watched Everybody's Everything, the documentary of Lil Peep, and recorded a cover of "walk away as the door slams". But the itch wasn't scratched, and what began as a moment of homage morphed into something bigger, deeper and more fundamental, a point where the seemingly haphazard - in his home, in Peep's process - opened Rattigan up to an entire creative space and a new approach to bending or even detonating genre. Crucially, all of this was recorded at home, in what Rattigan calls a "tribute to the process of creating" in a DIY space. And what began as a singular passion project unexpectedly grew into a uniquely collaborative record for Current Joys. "I've set out to make collaborative records before," Rattigan explains, "but they often end up totally me, with just a couple exceptions. But then this record gave me the opportunity to be extremely collaborative, to let other people write instrumental tracks, sending links around for people to mess with and weigh in on. I sat down to do credits and realized here were all these people and styles and they all came together and worked." Love + POP's cover art is an airbrush/spraypaint rendition of the Wild Heart album cover, which is itself a photo of Rattigan's grandparents kissing. It is sacred in some ways and shredded in others. This idea - the aggressive reimagining of something timeless into a present, finite style - is Love + POP.

As she's gotten older, Ella Smoker has found that her subconscious has been trying to tell her "some pretty wacky stuff". Thoughts will come to the 21-year-old singer-songwriter in dreams, or as she writes lyrics in studio sessions, words floating onto the page before she's really had a moment to realise what they are. "As soon as we start making the music, my brain sort of turns off," she explains. "I'll be sitting there, writing all this stuff that feels like a load of nonsense, and a month later, I'll look back and be like `oh'. It all comes from a place I didn't even realise was there." In learning how to open up to herself, gglum ended up finding a kindred spirit in producer Karma Kid (Maisie Peters, Shygirl, Connie Constance), pushing past her natural bedroom-pop introversion to find joy in the process of collaboration. Whether it's the ragged radio-rock of `SPLAT!' ("basically about realising that somebody you held up very highly is actually just a massive shambles of a person") or the riotous, industrial energy of `Easy Fun', Smoker is able to reshape her vocal around the mood, creating a record which expertly balances light and shade. "I've never really done anything in like that vocal style before," she says of `Easy Fun's near-spoken delivery. "I love that song because it's not something I would have come up with on my own, but Karma Kid was great at pushing me out of my comfort zone. I just thought like, look: I can be a little silly with this." The release of `The Garden Dream' will offer gglum plenty more opportunity to get both silly and serious, to be bold in her exploration of new ideas and sounds But it will also offer the opportunity to further accept herself as the dreamlike artist she always wanted to be; confidently embellishing acoustic worlds that her listeners can burrow safely within. "I feel like I naturally gravitate towards wanting to make musical spaces that you can feel like you're living in, rather than trying to make songs", she says. "That's something I really wanted to solidify with this album: I basically want to make music that feels like when you're looking out the window and it's the end of the film and you're imagining what comes next. That's the sound of what I want to be doing."

Faye Webster's songs are a direct line to the human unconscious, and "Underdressed at the Symphony" documents what happens when one begins to build a new self from the wreckage of old routines. Her previously released songs "But Not Kiss" and "Lifetime" already show the rarely explored territory of emotional intimacy, where desire and passion conflict with comfort, understanding and even platonic love. These themes are echoed in "Underdressed at the Symphony," along with hyper-specific symbols that paint a picture of Webster's life, such as "eBay Purchase History" or the objects she covets at "Lego Ring."

"Underdressed at the Symphony" was recorded with her longtime band at Sonic Ranch Studios in Texas and revels in experimentation, playfulness and adventure. Vocoder moments, orchestral flourishes, spooky harmonies and synthesizers emerge without compromising the spacious quality of Webster's earlier music, so her lyrics still have plenty of room to bubble to the surface with additional layers of meaning. Matt "Pistol" Stoessel's pedal steel tones provide just the right shimmer, while Wilco's Nels Cline contributes his undeniably soulful dexterity to a number of songs. Huddling together on the literal border between the US and Mexico gave the musicians room to isolate, focus and experiment. All of the songs on this album are live recordings, some of which were recorded on the first or second take, showcasing Webster's talent for drawing a universal experience from a very specific, seemingly small moment.

Faye Webster's songs are a direct line to the human unconscious, and "Underdressed at the Symphony" documents what happens when one begins to build a new self from the wreckage of old routines. Her previously released songs "But Not Kiss" and "Lifetime" already show the rarely explored territory of emotional intimacy, where desire and passion conflict with comfort, understanding and even platonic love. These themes are echoed in "Underdressed at the Symphony," along with hyper-specific symbols that paint a picture of Webster's life, such as "eBay Purchase History" or the objects she covets at "Lego Ring."

"Underdressed at the Symphony" was recorded with her longtime band at Sonic Ranch Studios in Texas and revels in experimentation, playfulness and adventure. Vocoder moments, orchestral flourishes, spooky harmonies and synthesizers emerge without compromising the spacious quality of Webster's earlier music, so her lyrics still have plenty of room to bubble to the surface with additional layers of meaning. Matt "Pistol" Stoessel's pedal steel tones provide just the right shimmer, while Wilco's Nels Cline contributes his undeniably soulful dexterity to a number of songs. Huddling together on the literal border between the US and Mexico gave the musicians room to isolate, focus and experiment. All of the songs on this album are live recordings, some of which were recorded on the first or second take, showcasing Webster's talent for drawing a universal experience from a very specific, seemingly small moment.

Faye Webster's songs are a direct line to the human unconscious, and "Underdressed at the Symphony" documents what happens when one begins to build a new self from the rubble of old routines. Her previously released songs "But Not Kiss" and "Lifetime" already show the rarely explored territory of emotional intimacy, where desire and passion conflict with comfort, understanding and even platonic love. These themes are echoed in "Underdressed at the Symphony," along with hyper-specific symbols that paint a picture of Webster's life, such as "eBay Purchase History" or the objects she covets at "Lego Ring."

"Underdressed at the Symphony" was recorded with her longtime band at Sonic Ranch Studios in Texas and revels in experimentation, playfulness and adventure. Vocoder moments, orchestral flourishes, spooky harmonies and synthesisers emerge without compromising the spacious quality of Webster's earlier music, so her lyrics still have plenty of room to bubble to the surface with added layers of meaning. Matt "Pistol" Stoessel's pedal steel sounds provide just the right shimmer, while Wilco's Nels Cline contributes his undeniably soulful dexterity to a number of songs. Huddling together on the literal border between the US and Mexico gave the musicians room to isolate, focus and experiment. All of the songs on this album are live recordings, some of which were recorded on the first or second take, showcasing Webster's talent for drawing a universal experience from a very specific, seemingly small moment.

serpentwithfeet, the Baltimore-born singer and songwriter, is a versatile talent who moves naturally from chapter to chapter in his career. His third album, Grip, is based on the dance floor of black gay clubs and is about the intimate moments that happen there and after, no matter the venue. It explores the small moments of physical touch and how they come about. Whether it's a grip around the waist or the face, serpentwithfeet manages to explore all angles. Grip and the black gay club have an interesting relationship: the club is public; the dance floor is obviously a place where people look at and observe each other. At the same time, the black gay club is a safe communal space, it's "for us" and in that sense very private, very intimate. These clubs offered him a different atmosphere, a different comfort and a different sense of welcome that encouraged him in a new way. From start to finish, Grip sonically relives the highs and lows of not only a club night, but also a romance. "Damn Gloves (ft. Ty Dolla $ign and Yanga YaYa)" captures the adrenaline rush of a nighttime climax with a thumping bass embedded in a dance production that mimics the speed of a heartbeat as intimacy boils up between two lovers. "Spades" uses a sweet, guitar-driven melody to create a tender moment, as a slow dance would. "Lucky Me" is sweet and honest, without anything to distract from the actual moment. His voice, a glistening guitar melody and enchanting synths serve as the driving force to foster a new romance. It's a work that emphasises the moments closest to the heart. Over the course of his seven-year career, he has proven his versatility through R&B music that is both sombre, spiritual and joyful. serpentwithfeet continues to push the boundaries of his art.

As she's gotten older, Ella Smoker has found that her subconscious has been trying to tell her "some pretty wacky stuff". Thoughts will come to the 21-year-old singer-songwriter in dreams, or as she writes lyrics in studio sessions, words floating onto the page before she's really had a moment to realise what they are. "As soon as we start making the music, my brain sort of turns off," she explains. "I'll be sitting there, writing all this stuff that feels like a load of nonsense, and a month later, I'll look back and be like `oh'. It all comes from a place I didn't even realise was there." In learning how to open up to herself, gglum ended up finding a kindred spirit in producer Karma Kid (Maisie Peters, Shygirl, Connie Constance), pushing past her natural bedroom-pop introversion to find joy in the process of collaboration. Whether it's the ragged radio-rock of `SPLAT!' ("basically about realising that somebody you held up very highly is actually just a massive shambles of a person") or the riotous, industrial energy of `Easy Fun', Smoker is able to reshape her vocal around the mood, creating a record which expertly balances light and shade. "I've never really done anything in like that vocal style before," she says of `Easy Fun's near-spoken delivery. "I love that song because it's not something I would have come up with on my own, but Karma Kid was great at pushing me out of my comfort zone. I just thought like, look: I can be a little silly with this." The release of `The Garden Dream' will offer gglum plenty more opportunity to get both silly and serious, to be bold in her exploration of new ideas and sounds But it will also offer the opportunity to further accept herself as the dreamlike artist she always wanted to be; confidently embellishing acoustic worlds that her listeners can burrow safely within. "I feel like I naturally gravitate towards wanting to make musical spaces that you can feel like you're living in, rather than trying to make songs", she says. "That's something I really wanted to solidify with this album: I basically want to make music that feels like when you're looking out the window and it's the end of the film and you're imagining what comes next. That's the sound of what I want to be doing."