With a short week capping off such a brilliant month of new music, it’s only fair that this final May week be chock-full of great new tracks including addictive singles from future LPs (Baio, Neon Indian, Wolf Alice) and a couple of stand-alone numbers that caught our ears (Mr. Twin Sister, Arca).
Check them all out below.
Chris Baio—best known as Vampire Weekend‘s bassist and resident dance pro—has shared the details for his debut solo LP as Baio, along with its opening track, “Brainwash Yyrr Face.” It’s a snappy electronic odyssey that features chopped-up vocal samples à la Four Tet and a driving, syncopated outro.
In anticipation of the release of their debut LP next month, yesterday, English quartet Wolf Alice dropped an adorable music video for their track “Bros. The sweet and candid clips only heighten the levels of nostalgia that fans get from listening to the single. With twinkling guitars, light and airy vocals, and lyrics like “Remember when we cut our hair / Both looked like boys / But we didn’t care / Stuck it out together like we always do / Oh, there’s no one, there’s no one quite like you,” the track tugs right at your heartstrings without getting too sappy.
Neon Indian, “Annie”
On Tuesday, Alan Palomo (a.k.a. Neon Indian) dropped the first single off of his upcoming album Psychic Chasms, and boy, does it have a groove that doesn’t quit. Within the four minutes of “Annie,” Palomo takes listeners on a tropical sonic vacation with sultry vocals, memorable guitar and bass riffs, hypnotic synth lines, and perfectly used snippets of nature sounds. Where’s our daiquiri?
Mr. Twin Sister, “The Erotic Book”
The all-grown-up version of Twin Sister—now officially called Mr. Twin Sister—dropped “The Erotic Book,” their first taste of new music since last year’s self-titled album. It’s a heavy trip through disco’s darker shadows, a place where even choppy acoustic guitars and steel drums can carry high drama.
Arca, “Washed Clean”
For nearly half of its three-minute runtime, Arca’s “Washed Clean” ruminates on a single, grungy pulse. The Venezuelan producer (and Björk collaborator) turns it around, gives it a spin, brings it back in, then takes another look. It’s like being unwittingly dunked under water again and again, the sensation as fresh and frightening on the fifth go-round as the first. And, when the song finally breaks free into a caterwaul of sirens and tone-glow, it’s the worst kind of relief.
