​What is there to be said about Fonteyn’s debut album Trip the Light Fantastic that hasn’t already been said about its three leading singles? ​

Timothée Chalamet asks if he can commandeer your vehicle in an intense high-speed chase, wyd? 

Now, I have no idea what this means, or why I even wrote it.* So no one knows what it means, but it's provocative. It gets the people going! 

Have you ever read a comic book? I mean actually read a comic book. There are a lot of “comic book fans” out there now who I swear have never read a single one. And much like comic books are an underappreciated form of storytelling,* music is wildly underutilized as a storytelling medium today.

When boiled down to one sentence—as I did just months ago—this EP is a polyamorous marriage between punk, ska, and indie rock that regularly invites other genres to join the fray of love making. But despite my best efforts to summarize it into a single sentence, I am compelled to say more because this EP is so much more.

This whole album boils down to one thing: it sounds like if a combination of the lead singer of Sports Team and Matt Berninger (on the gravelly end of his register) sang songs cowritten by Conor Oberst and Andrew Bird. Oberst's latter stuff mostly. Think Bright Eyes’ most recent album and Better Oblivion Community Center.

I think I am just going to have to accept the fact that from now on every time I go to Velour I am going to be swimming in a sea of children who dress like my oldest siblings did in high school. I saw low rider jeans, and I thought I was going to faint. Why god? Why? I thought we put the ‘00s Charlie’s Angels era behind us.

A man with sloppy, sandy hair, sideburns unintentionally too long and dressed like Ted Mosby (relaxed fit jeans and a button-up with the cuffs unbuttoned) walks through the streets of a very English downtown. His surroundings are blurred. Everyone around him is moving fast as he’s left behind. He’s the only object in focus, looking lost and alone.

Utah’s Sylvan Esso, Cop Kid, has released a new single entitled “Useless.”

The title track off TV Dream’s debut EP, Come of Age, asks, “Why can’t growing old be cool,” and that might be the understatement of the year.

A woman in a seedy dive bar sings bathed in the red light of the stage. If feels cartoonish to an extent—a caricature of a seductress—something you’ve only seen in movies.