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Forever Turned Around came together over several sessions across the country. Though Julien Ehrlich is Whitney's lead singing drummer while Max Kakacek is the lead guitarist, when writing, both transcend their roles to piece together each offering lyrically and compositionally. "The way it ends up working is one of us comes up with a basic idea for a song and the other person serves as the foil to complicate that idea. We ask, `What can we change to make it more interesting?'" says Kakacek. Challenging each other is the core of their songwriting partnership. It's these risks and experiments that make Forever Turned Around a triumph. Take opener "Giving Up," which started from a stream-ofconscious revelation when Ehrlich improvised the chorus while Kakacek played Wurlitzer. What began as a nod to Neil Young's Live at Massey Hall 1971 in an afternoon turned into a heart-rending and relatable song about the ups and downs of long-term relationships. Over twinkling piano, Ehrlich sings, "Though we started losing touch / I've been hanging on because / You're the only one I love." He explains, "In a relationship, you don't stay at the same level at all times. You go through weeks where you're closed off."

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.

Sometime in 2006 or 2007, Jason Molina moved from the midwest to London. Separated from his bandmates and friends and never one for idleness, Molina explored his new home with fervor. Sometimes he'd head out on foot, often with no destination in mind. Other times, he'd pick a random tube stop and find his way back home. He'd pick up on arcane trivia about London's rich history, and if the historical factoids weren't available - or weren't quite to his liking - Molina was quite comfortable conjuring his own history. His adoration of The Great American Tall Tales like John Henry and Paul Bunyan's blue ox Babe stretched across the Atlantic, where he created his own personal Tall Tales. And when he learned of the London Wall's seven gates (itself a misconception), Molina went ahead and called it eight, carving out a gate just for himself. The eighth gate was Molina's way into London, a gate only passable in the mind. Fast forward to 2008, Molina set off on an experimental solo tour through Europe. While in Northern Italy, Molina claimed to have been bitten by a rare, poisonous spider. A debilitating bout of illness ensued. "I was in the hospital here in London," Molina wrote in a letter. "Saw six doctors and a Dr. House-type guy. They are all mystified by it, but I am allowed to be at home, where I am taking a dozen scary Hantavirus type pills a day that are all to supposedly help - but they make me feel like shit." There is no record of a single doctor visit, not any prescription record for these medications. It is entirely plausible there was no spider and that whatever was keeping him indoors during this time was entirely self-induced. While at home, he of course wrote songs. Molina also claimed that during this time, he fed several bright green parrots that would gather in his yard. While often associated with a greyscale sensibility, Molina was oft-clad in a Hawaiian shirt and had, at least in part, selected the name Songs: Ohia for his first project as a nod to Hawaii's 'Ohi'a lehua flower. Which is all to say, the tropical element the parakeets brought to those sick days delighted Molina. He made short, crude field recordings of them with his trusty four-track. Only once Molina was officially on the mend and re-exploring the streets of London would he learn that those parrots had their own fabled tale. Back in the 60s, Jimi Hendrix - in a moment of psychedelic clarity - released his pair of lime green ring-necked parakeets from their cage, setting them free into the London sky. Now, their decendents are spotted regularly around certain parts of the city. Or so we're told. Eight Gates is the last collection of solo studio recordings Molina made before he passed from complications related to alcoholism in 2013. Recorded in London around the time of the supposed spider bite and Jimi's supposed parakeets, some of the songs ("Whispered Away," "Thistle Blue") are fully-realized - dark, moody textures that call to mind his earlier work on The Lioness. Knowing what we know about those parakeets and their peppered presence on the recordings, one can't help but think of that colorful tree of birds on Talk Talk's classic Laughing Stock, certainly a spiritual guide for much of the set. Other songs ("She Says," "The Crossroads and The Emptiness") lay in a more unfinished states, acoustic takes that call to mind Molina's Let Me Go Let Me Go Let Me Go, and still tethered to Molina's humorous studio banter. You remember how young Molina was, and how weighty this art was for such a young man. On the closer, "The Crossroads and The Emptiness," Molina snaps at the engineer before tearing into a song in which he sings of his birthday (December 30), a palm reading and the great emptiness with which he always wrestled. It is a perfect closer and, in many ways, the eighth gate incarnate: mythical, passable only in the mind, built for himself and partway imaginary but shared, thankfully, with us.

Dosik Honed His Craft As Part Of A Burgeoning Los Angeles Scene That Reinvents Classic Popular Music To Thrive In The Present Tense. With Inside Voice, Which Features A Number Of Dosik's Closest Collaborators - Including Moses Sumney, Miguel Atwood-Ferguson, Mocky, Coco O, Theo Katzman, And Others - Dosik Delivers A Level Of Depth Rarely Achieved In A Debut, And The Result Is An Instant Classic By Any Standard. It's Brimming With Emotions That Linger And Hum. It's Catchy As Hell And Can Haunt You For Days. You Can Take A Casual Listen Or Spend Hours On Repeat. Either Way, Inside Voice Will Get You, Because Joey Dosik Writes Human Music For Human Beings. And Boy Does He Write The Hell Out Of It. Throughout, Dosik Does A Remarkable Job Of Honoring And Evolving Classic Sounds, Letting His Uncanny Gift For Songwrit...

Leftovers, the debut album from Montreal's Le Ren, stitches together a patchwork of personal songs about different relationships: those we share with mothers, lovers, and friends. Lauren Spear, the artist behind Le Ren, created a physical quilt to mirror the assemblage of stories that comprise her album: a coming-of-age collage that collects over four years of past experiences and finds their present meaning. Leftovers was originally scheduled to be recorded in LA in early 2020, but the pandemic forced Le Ren to reconsider the kind of album she wanted to make, and how she wanted to make it. Taking the time to revamp old songs and bring the past to bear upon new ones, she distilled years of material into ten tightly executed tracks united by the swooning pluck of her guitar and the crystal clear timbre of her voice. The result is a timeless assemblage of love, heartache, celebration, and lessons hard-learned, written and performed by a musician who has honed the subtleties of her craft. With its organic yet meticulous folk production and deeply felt lyrics, Leftovers exists outside of trend or time, finding a home among classic icons like Joni Mitchell, Vashti Bunyan, and Karen Dalton, as well as a new class of folk extraordinaires, such as Adrianne Lenker, Jessica Pratt, and Laura Marling. Le Ren writes with a bold clarity that lends her songs the immediate, enduring quality of good stories well-told that, like their album title-namesake, only get better with age. Leftovers is equal parts melancholy, deep love, and levity to lift up the mournful. Le Ren here weaves a rich musical tapestry addressed to loved ones lost, found, and kept that reveals new meanings within a lifetime of relationships.

Forever Turned Around came together over several sessions across the country. Though Julien Ehrlich is Whitney's lead singing drummer while Max Kakacek is the lead guitarist, when writing, both transcend their roles to piece together each offering lyrically and compositionally. "The way it ends up working is one of us comes up with a basic idea for a song and the other person serves as the foil to complicate that idea. We ask, `What can we change to make it more interesting?'" says Kakacek. Challenging each other is the core of their songwriting partnership. It's these risks and experiments that make Forever Turned Around a triumph. Take opener "Giving Up," which started from a stream-ofconscious revelation when Ehrlich improvised the chorus while Kakacek played Wurlitzer. What began as a nod to Neil Young's Live at Massey Hall 1971 in an afternoon turned into a heart-rending and relatable song about the ups and downs of long-term relationships. Over twinkling piano, Ehrlich sings, "Though we started losing touch / I've been hanging on because / You're the only one I love." He explains, "In a relationship, you don't stay at the same level at all times. You go through weeks where you're closed off."

Giving the World Away, the sophomore album from Hatchie, is the truest introduction to the songwriter/bassist at the helm of the project, Harriette Pilbeam. Produced by Jorge Elbrecht, Giving the World Away is Hatchie's most thunderous, sprawling work yet. Featuring input from longtime Hatchie collaborator Joe Agius, it takes the celestial, shimmering shoegaze and pop sensibilities of her earlier releases, but with the volume knob cranked up tenfold. Built out with percussion from Beach House drummer James Barone, it's synthed-out, sonic opulence, a more structured and ornate musicality with traces of `90s trip-hop and acid house influences. Pilbeam initially intended for these songs to go in a higher-energy direction. She had the distinct vision of a Hatchie show turned dance party, inviting more movement and vibrancy into her live shows. But then, between Covid and the lockdowns in Australia, Pilbeam retreated more into herself, and that introspection and self-discovery served as the true inspiration for the record. Again and again across Giving the World Away, she returns to that same theme of dismantling internalized shame and finding gratitude and steadiness, and finally being able to trust herself. Giving the World Away is an album about self-confidence, about the strange time in young adulthood where you begin to finally be able to see yourself clearly. Incisive and probing, Giving the World Away is the clearest look at Pilbeam yet, and a relic of the power and bravery that spring forth from embracing vulnerability and putting your heart on the line.

Alex Cameron's newest and most musically expansive LP, the glistening MiamiMemory, takes a surprising turn. Cameron's flair for narrative and characterare still on full display; yet Miami Memory's most frequent narrator is, for thefirst time, Cameron himself_singing with stunning candor of his three-yearrelationship with his girlfriend."When you listen to these songs, and you're waiting for the twist, or the joke,or any kind of discomfort, I can assure you none of those things were therewhen I wrote them," says Cameron. "These are true stories, of actual events.Specific but never esoteric. And graphic but never offensive. Miami Memoryis the story of a couple balancing sex with contemporary family values...It's mygift to my girlfriend, a symbol to hoist on the totem of love."

When Porridge Radio's Dana Margolin, one of the most vital new voices in rock, began to consider the themes of her new album, three vivid words began to emerge: joy, fear and endlessness. The artwork of the band's third full-length, Waterslide, Diving Board, Ladder To The Sky, is a surreal image that evokes the ducks and dives, slippery slopes and existential angst of life in recent times. "To me, the feelings of joy, fear and endlesses coexist together," says Dana. "You're never just happy or unhappy." Following Every Bad's release in 2020, Margolin was quickly becoming regarded as one of the most magnetic band leaders around. But if Every Bad established Dana's bravery in laying herself bare, her band's third record takes that to anthemic new heights. While there are moments of guttural release, she also finds soft power on songs. "I used to think I had to be loud to be heard," she admits, "but now I'm definitely less afraid of being gentle." The band's first new single, `Back To The Radio', sets out their stall, a lurching call to arms that contrasts Dana's lyrics of panic and closing herself off. This song is just one of example in Wdbltts that explores something that has long been an important part of Porridge Radio's process: playfulness. "I think the album needed to have that balance," Dana explains. Balance: that's the word the album seems to be eternally striving for - joy, fear and endlessness in harmony but also self-acceptance. Dana is more aware of how she's creating a persona as her star continues to rise, and how she's singing personal songs that now belong to other people which gives her purpose. She says, "I wrote these songs for myself, but I think everyone wants to feel like what they're doing is useful in some way. I'm ready to embrace it all now, whatever happens."

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...

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.

Recorded In 2011 In A Dusty, Beloved Barn, Even Your Drums Will Die Is A Time Machine, A Real One, To A Moment Packed Thick With Richard Swift's Singular, Crackling Liveliness. Where Swift's Studio Recordings Are Marked By Texture, Tone And Mood, Even Your Drums Will Die Puts A Spotlight On Swift's Voice, His Lyrics And His Songwriting. Running Through All Of Swift's Tunes Is A Certain Agitation _ A Fidgetiness, A Restlessness. It's Clearer Than Ever Now, Over Two Years After Swift's Passing, That He Used His Music To Let A Little Pressureout Of His Tire. "Ballad Of Milton Feher" Nods To All This, Its Namesake Coming From The Professional Dancer And Director Who Taught His Students To Release Their "Habits Of Tension." The Song Feels Like A Skeleton Key To Swift's Oeuvre, A Clear Look Into The Wild Wheels Spinning Inside His Big Old Artist Noggin. On The Flipside Is "Lady Luck". The Classic. The Revived Ghost Of A Lost 45 That Never Existed, Or Maybe Always Did, But That Only Richard Swift Could Make Real. If You Know These Songs, You Will Find Them Set Alight Here. If You Don't, Even Your Drums Will Die Is An Incomparable Snapshot Of Both Art And Artist. It Is A Genie, A Real One, Let Loose From The Lamp Withrichard Swift's Explosive Energy, Imagination And Mischief.

Leftovers, the debut album from Montreal's Le Ren, stitches together a patchwork of personal songs about different relationships: those we share with mothers, lovers, and friends. Lauren Spear, the artist behind Le Ren, created a physical quilt to mirror the assemblage of stories that comprise her album: a coming-of-age collage that collects over four years of past experiences and finds their present meaning. Leftovers was originally scheduled to be recorded in LA in early 2020, but the pandemic forced Le Ren to reconsider the kind of album she wanted to make, and how she wanted to make it. Taking the time to revamp old songs and bring the past to bear upon new ones, she distilled years of material into ten tightly executed tracks united by the swooning pluck of her guitar and the crystal clear timbre of her voice. The result is a timeless assemblage of love, heartache, celebration, and lessons hard-learned, written and performed by a musician who has honed the subtleties of her craft. With its organic yet meticulous folk production and deeply felt lyrics, Leftovers exists outside of trend or time, finding a home among classic icons like Joni Mitchell, Vashti Bunyan, and Karen Dalton, as well as a new class of folk extraordinaires, such as Adrianne Lenker, Jessica Pratt, and Laura Marling. Le Ren writes with a bold clarity that lends her songs the immediate, enduring quality of good stories well-told that, like their album title-namesake, only get better with age. Leftovers is equal parts melancholy, deep love, and levity to lift up the mournful. Le Ren here weaves a rich musical tapestry addressed to loved ones lost, found, and kept that reveals new meanings within a lifetime of relationships.

"All my friends were playing in these bass-guitar-drum bands," speaks Jens Lekman, casting his mind back over twenty years to his first rudimentary experiments with sampling using his father's old cassette recorder, and an instinct to create music that would set him far apart from his Swedish pop peers. "I'm going to sound like Scott Walker. But I'm going to do it in my bedroom." Works of sweeping, maximalist, orchestral wonder sung in a sumptuous tenor, weaving lifts from obscure fleamarket vinyl records with by turns burningly romantic and mordantly funny true-life tales from the sleepy-shadowy suburbs of Gothenburg - Lekman's early songs come from a different time, a different place. An era when the internet was young, limitless and disruptive, sample culture was turning music inside out, and anything felt possible. After initially finding an audience through peer-to-peer file sharing sites, Lekman signed to Secretly Canadian Records in 2003, and went on to release a slew of cherished material, including three cult limited-edition EPs - Maple Leaves, Rocky Dennis and Julie - later collected on the 2005 compilation album Oh You're So Silent Jens. His DIY fantasias found their fullest and most celebrated form in 2007 on his second album proper, the exquisite Night Falls Over Kortedala - Lekman's self-professed "dream record". It went to number one in Sweden and was later hailed as one of the 200 best albums of the 2000s by Pitchfork, as well as one of the top 100 albums of the 21st century so far by The Guardian. Now, like Oh You're So Silent Jens, it no longer exists in its original form. Oh You're So Silent Jens enigmatically disappeared in 2011; Night Falls Over Kortedala followed suit in early 2022. Lekman's impulse for giving old music fresh life and context has led him to remake the records under new names, each delicately positioned in dialogue with the past - the same albums, just different. The Cherry Trees Are Still In Blossom and The Linden Trees Are Still In Blossom are a pair of lovingly and painstakingly assembled reduxes each keeping the same core tracklisting, spirit and source material as the originals, but blending brand new versions of some tracks, in part or in whole, together with many tracks left largely as they were. Both records are fleshed out with rare, previously unreleased, and even previously unfinished old songs, as well as other contemporaneous material such as cassette diaries. On The Cherry Trees, two of Lekman's best-loved early breakout singles are completely reimagined - `Maple Leaves' as a tender ballad burnished with warm strings; tragi-comic illegal taxi ride to oblivion `Black Cab' in two different versions, a handsome full band pop song and a gentle acoustic lullaby. The Linden Trees repackages all the true-life tales, magic, and mystery of Night Falls for a new age, yet in wholly familiar form, from the joyous `The Opposite of Hallelujah' to hilariously uplifting missive `A Postcard to Nina' and open-hearted love-song `Your Arms Around Me'. Taken together, the new albums form a sort of belated farewell to Lekman's formative days as a bedroom Scott Walker, panning for sample gold in stacks of vintage vinyl. Albeit not a farewell to the original albums themselves, which will live on in fans' record collections, and perhaps illicit corners of the internet. Spread to the wind. "I feel like these new records are like portals that can lead you to the old records if you want," Lekman reflects. "I think that they can lead you to another time and a place, where you could work with music in a different way."

Kenneth Whalum balances personal maturation and artistic evolution, a testimony to the fact that he is equal parts vivid storyteller and dynamic, nuanced musician. Singer, songwriter, and saxophonist Kenneth Whalum was reared as much by his parents as he was by the melodies that narrated his earliest dreams. Born and raised in Memphis, TN, his family immersed him in both liturgical and secular music. Kenneth's journey to date has been as much the product of destiny's script as it is the result of his conscious dedication to his art. Kenneth's professional training and passion prepared him to perform tour, and record alongside some of today's most renowned entertainers, singers, and musicians including, D'Angelo, music and business icon Sean "Diddy" Combs, rapper and mogul Jay Z, Justin Timberlake, Beyoncé, Maroon 5 and Frank Ocean. As an artist, Kenneth Whalum charts a new direction in music. With a captivating intensity, his work pushes the conventional boundaries of contemporary emerging artists. He fuses together soul, alternative, hip-hop, jazz, R&B, and blues. In 2015, Kenneth released his first alternative-soul single, "Ghost Town". The following year he released his next single "Might Not Be Ok", featuring popular hip-hop artist, Big K.R.I.T. By 2017, he released a full album, Broken Land.With Broken Land 2, Whalum leaned into darker chords as therapeutic relief. A self-described loner who processes both his highs and lows solo, "Prayer" is a moment of reckoning, calling out to others to pray for him. Lead single "Party" is a dissection of manipulation and how the games we play inform others' perception of a situation they don't understand. "Make Sure," which is reminiscent of tracks on his debut album "Broken Land", invokes Whalum's everyday manner of speaking. Broken Land 2 consists of both questions and truths. "Whether you want to talk about it in public or not, people have not stopped going through these real situations. I view Broken Land 2 as medicine for myself and others."

Alex Cameron's newest and most musically expansive LP, the glistening Miami Memory, takes a surprising turn. Cameron's flair for narrative and character are still on full display; yet Miami Memory's most frequent narrator is, for the first time, Cameron himself - singing with stunning candor of his three-year relationship with visual artist and actor Jemima Kirke. ''When you listen to these songs, and you're waiting for the twist, or the joke, or any kind of discomfort, I can assure you none of those things were there when I wrote them,'' says Cameron. ''These are true stories, of actual events. Specific but never esoteric. And graphic but never offensive. Miami Memory is the story of a couple balancing sex positivity with contemporary family values...It's my gift to Jemima, a symbol to hoist on the totem of love.'' Though remnants of his synth-driven earlier work sneak in to unsettle the tone, the bulk of Miami Memory, produced by Jonathan Rado (Weyes Blood, Father John Misty) and recorded and mixed by Marta Salogni (Bjork, Kelela), revels in the emotional overdrive of classic dad rock, its warm, anthemic songs driven by bass, guitar, sax, and layers of Vegas wedding chapel-ish organ. Cameron's dad rock funhouse of an album ultimately twists and subverts the genre: it recalls classics the white male ego has historically visited for its regular adrenaline injection, and morphs them into a singular ''stepdad'' rock that largely turns its lens away from the dads, celebrating the demise of old norms of gender and power. In his depiction of his relationship with Kirke, Cameron reveals a striking honesty about love and sex in a time where a palpable fleetingness hangs over everything from relationships to human life on this planet - but also where constricting mores have deteriorated enough to let ''family life,'' in all its morphing forms, exist outside of social obligation. With arresting straightforwardness, Cameron now sings as himself, paying tribute to sex positivity, female empowerment, family and responsibility, and, to his love, Jemima.
1. Stepdad 2. Miami Memory 3. Far From Born Again 4. Gaslight 5. Bad For The Boys 6. End is Nigh 7. PC With Me 8. Divorce 9. Other Ladies 10. Too Far

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.

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.

Pink Room is Wet's EP as part of Secretly Canadian's Friends Of campaign, guided by the New York three-piece's magnetic singer-songwriter Kelly Zutrau. Pink Room follows Zutrau's third LP, Letter Blue, which was Wet's most collaborative release, with co-writing and co-production from Toro y Moi's Chaz Bear, as well as Frank Ocean's go-to keyboardist Buddy Ross. Notably, founding guitarist Marty Sulkow has rejoined the group, alongside their nimble producer Joe Valle. Altogether, they've helped to create Wet's most natural-feeling and playful songs to date. Wet released their self-titled debut EP in 2014, for the taste-making pop label Neon Gold, before moving to Columbia Records for two understated, celebrated albums, Don't You (2016) and Still Run (2018). "Wet has what it takes to make everyone care about an indie band," Fader announced in a glowing magazine profile before the band went on to play Late Night with Jimmy Fallon and sell out Webster Hall. They've toured with The 1975, Florence + the Machine, and Toro y Moi, who also featured Wet on 2019's Outer Peace. "I'm always interested in multiple feelings at once," Zutrau says. "Not just a happy song, but happy and sad and guilty _ those can all be true." This is as much a sonic statement as it is one about life: "We see these messages in music and media that are very black and white, but our lives don't really live up to those expectations. Instead, we're somewhere in the middle of all these states that are much easier to explain."

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.

This red vinyl record is accompanied by a postcard that is signed by Stella herself.

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.

*Secretly Canadian’s 25th Anniversary limited edition color vinyl with exclusive anniversary cover art + obi*
*Includes a 12×12 print and essay celebrating the artist and album, exclusively for direct orders*

To be clear, Tig Notaro’s second album is titled LIVE [liv, verb]. LIVE [liv, verb] was recorded, uh, live [lÄ«v, adj. or adv.] at Largo on August 3rd, 2012 at her monthly show, “Tig Has Friends.” The day before this set, Tig was diagnosed with cancer in both breasts. This news was the bookend to an agonizing year in which Tig spent weeks in the hospital battling an intestinal bacteria infection. A week after being released from the hospital, her mother unexpectedly died. Then, in the middle of it all, her relationship fell apart. Which leads us here. Tig’s 30 minute set is not much more than an open-mic set in that it’s half scripted, raw and real. It’s an insightful detailing of her assessing a horrible set of circumstances in a calm, clever and clear manner. “Live at The Moth” was recorded on December 5th at The Avalon Hollywood. The story, recorded for the acclaimed storytelling podcast, is a companion piece of sorts to LIVE. In the 16 minute piece, Tig elaborates on the death of her mother and how the untimely passing eventually lead to a reconnection with her step father.

*Secretly Canadian’s 25th Anniversary limited edition color vinyl with exclusive anniversary cover art + obi*

*Includes a 12×12 print and essay celebrating the artist and album, exclusively for direct orders*

Jens Lekman’s songs are each so different stylistically, each a classic in its own way. He employs each of the following as central features in his songs: horn sections, string sections, a capella singing, steel drums, piano balladry, and mandolin. Lekman is a young pop crooner from Sweden. Eyes bright, heart wide open, he’s become an overnight sensation with his home recorded magic and fantastic lyrics. It’s hard to believe that he is only 23 here. He could as well be playing Las Vegas. His timeless elegance makes the big, beautiful suburban pop songs sound like they’re already classics. With an angelic voice and golden ears he seems to be drinking from the same hard waters as the Carpenters, Harry Nilsson, the Magnetic Fields, Smog, the Modern Lovers and Belle & Sebastian.