1. “Sunday Cups” – Veronica Bianqui. I absolutely love percussion-and-vocals tunes, so the opening of this indie-pop track had me all in immediately. Building from the stark beginnings, Bianqui fills out the tune with friendly guitar, bunches ‘o layers of background vocals, grumbling piano, and wailing saxophone. It’s like the seriousness of Des Ark smashed up with the enthusiastic experimentation of tune-yards.
2. “Wilder Days” – Tors. Fans of The Oh Hellos will love this expansive, major-key, shout-it-out folk adventure. The chorus is the sort of jubilant moment that makes me think, “Oh, yes, this is why folk-pop is so great.”
3. “Me & McAlevey” – Walter Martin. The hyper-specific lyrics here make it feel like you’re listening in on an actual letter written from Martin to McAlevey. The unusual content of the song about growing older, though, makes the hyper-specificity a breath of fresh air. The song itself carries itself with a mature, hard-earned dignity. Martin’s voice is controlled, and his songwriting is spartan yet gives the feeling of lush certainty. It’s like the rare quiet tracks from Vampire Weekend as interpreted by the National. Highly Recommended.
4. “Fel I Fod” – Adwaith. Has the ethereal floating qualities that make Braid so powerful + the straightforward vocal qualities of the current excellent group of new female-fronted punk/emo bands + a big ‘ol instrumental riff at the end of the song. Also the band hails from Wales. Of course it’s fantastic.
5. “Wake Up Freya” – Marsicans. Marsicans continue their impressive run of fantastic singles with a slow-it-down tune that manages to keep all the joy of the band’s usually gleeful guitar-pop and filter it into a song structure that’s not-quite-a-ballad. I mean, check that percussion line. That’s got groove. And that chorus vocal line is just so perky. And that soaring conclusion! But yet, it’s a tender “welcome to the world” tune for a baby. Ah, Marsicans. Never change.
6. “How High” – Nathaniel Bellows. The atypical rhythmic patterns and spartan arrangements of St. Even infused with the emotional vocal charge of Glen Hansard create something altogether unique: something dense with emotion but light in its arrangement, mysterious and yet also confident.
7. “September 31st” – night drifting. A swaying melody that evokes memories of Radiohead’s “No Surprises” (in the best of ways) leads the way through this whisper-folk lullaby. The subtle electronics serve to make the song even more tender, which is an unusual trick. A lovely, lilting piece.
8. “Eliza” – Art Block. Starts out as a deeply sad ballad in the vein of Counting Crows’ “Raining in Baltimore,” but the chorus lifts into a moonlit reverie. The cello just adds more gravitas to the solemnity. If you’re a fan of very sad music, you’ll love this one.
9. “Sand” – Dan Michaelson. Michaelson’s vocal performance here is outstanding: he sounds absolutely devastated. You can hear the smallest note and tone shifts in his deep voice, conveying a feeling of loss. The somber-yet-optimistic arrangement of strings, piano, and string bass is beautiful: the aching strings of Sigur Ros are present, making this piece even more of a majestic sobfest than it would otherwise be. (I’m not even sure if the lyrics are sad–they might be–but man, the music is devastating.) If you need a good cry, here’s an elite way to get that going.