New Music Friday: 5/30/25

Here are the rules: I listen to all 100 tracks of Spotify's New Music Friday playlist, except for anything that rhymes the n-word with itself more than three times, any screamo or screamo-adjacent stuff, any CCM that reveals its true intentions in time for me to hit the skip button, and any egregiously corny modern country music, typically performed by a dude with two first names. Having sifted through this week's playlist, here's what I actively enjoyed:

"Afterlife," Alex G
This is the first I'm hearing (or hearing of) Alex G, but he has an impressive resume that includes writing for other artists (such as Halsey) and contributing music to the cult hit I Saw the TV Glow. His next album will apparently be his tenth, which means this is one of those moments that really makes me wonder what the fuck I'm doing writing about new music. Still, we forge ahead, because we must — and "Afterlife" is an addictively lilting little anthem that wouldn't have been out of place on an album by any of the Big Music artists who cropped up in the back half of the '80s. The production would have been wildly different, but those chiming guitars would have been very much the same.

"Hemingway," girl in red
I tend to think it's a fallacy that artists need to be going through terrible shit in order to produce their best work, but it's certainly true that for many of us, dark nights of the soul tend to summon the muse. That seems to be the case for girl in red, whose experiences with depression (among other things) fed into "Hemingway," and while I'm very sorry to read about the things she faced, coming away with a line like "You drink like Hemingway, but your writing's no good and your songs all sound the same" has to feel like some kind of victory.

"Darling," Whitney
Whitney say they set out to make a song that "feels like it’s over too soon in the best way possible" with "Darling," and I have to begrudgingly acknowledge that they accomplished that goal — I seethingly dislike the trend driving artists to get in and out in under three minutes, but hey, sometimes two minutes and 54 seconds (and/or one really long sentence) is really all you need.

"No Love," Matt Berninger
I am a white, suburban, 51-year-old married father of two who has a beard, likes beer, and plays guitar badly, which means I am required by law to be super down with the National. This is a law I've flouted for years — stop telling me what to do, scenesters, you aren't my dad — but this is also the second cut I've heard and enjoyed from National frontman Matt Berninger's new solo joint, so fuck it, here I go recommending it to you. Pass the IPA and let's complain about back pain together.

"Alchemy," Cam
Here's a name I haven't seen (or thought about) in years. I have a very dim memory of enjoying one or several songs from Cam's 2015 LP; ten years later, she's back with a sound that is far, far less country, but no less effortlessly hook-driven. I wasn't paying attention when this happened, but she took home a Grammy for working on Beyonce's Cowboy Carter album — here's hoping that pumped her coffers full of enough fuck-you money to keep doing whatever the hell she wants.

"Deadhead," Foxwarren
It has long been my official position that Deadheads should not be encouraged, lest they continue to multiply, and I am therefore less than predisposed to recommend a song with the temerity to call itself "Deadhead." On the other hand, when a song is this suffused with wiry, cockeyed energy, I am all but powerless to issue a recommendation, so here we are.

"Harsh Love," Blue Foundation featuring Helena Gao
If you miss the brief moment when Imogen Heap seemed poised to vault wispy female singer-songwriter stylings into an electronica-tinged new millennium, then I suspect you'll find a lot to enjoy here. I myself did not know I missed that moment. Listening to "Harsh Love" has taught me something, and as G.I. Joe taught us in the '80s, knowing is half the battle.

"Oh Dorian," Ben Kweller featuring MJ Lenderman
If you're just listening to it in the background or whatever you do in this increasingly commodified and fucked-up music streaming era, then "Oh Dorian" comes across as little more than a gently loping, charming-enough pop song. If you're actively listening, however, this unassuming tune is liable to wreck you, especially if you're a parent — Kweller wrote it as an ode to his son Dorian, who died in a car accident two years ago at the age of 16. There's been a lot of discussion this week (on my feeds, anyway) about whether "art can stop a bullet," and I must concede that it cannot, but it can certainly heal.

"Get Still," Alan Sparhawk featuring Trampled by Turtles
Former Low frontman Sparhawk teamed up with Trampled by Turtles for his new solo(ish) project, and in the course of putting that together, opted to revisit "Get Still," a track that originally appeared on his 2024 release White Roses, My God. I'm generally the type of listener who approaches any re-recording with a jaundiced eye, but in this case, everyone benefits; what was once a semi-deranged synth excursion is now a much more melodically expansive — and far easier to enjoy — experience.

"Como Un Párajo," Silvana Estrada
Most of what I remember from my four years of high school Spanish amounts to a handful of creative swear words, but I know this song title translates to "Like a Bird," which makes me think of a Nelly Furtado song I'd rather not hear again; perhaps for that reason, I'm currently swooning over this track, which is relaxed and expansively lovely. Also: whistling solo!

"Girls Like You," Sofia Camara
On one hand, the world doesn't need another song about falling for someone in spite of a billion red flags. On the other hand, Sofia Camara's "Girls Like You" makes a pretty persuasive case for revisiting familiar territory. This is a real roll-down-your-windows pop number that no one needs to apologize for loving, no matter what your better judgment might tell you.

"even as if never//," KennyHoopla
Annoying title formatting reaches its new zenith with this track. What the fuck are those slashes for? Why can't this jackass put a space between his first and last stage names like a normal person? Oh, whatever — this song is propulsive and dreamy in a way that I couldn't begin to argue with even if I had a fraction of the energy required to do so. You win, Mr. Hoopla.

"Horses Can't Outrun Me," Susannah Joffe
When I read this song title for the first time, I imagined a piece of music that somehow connected the dusty rhinestones of Dolly Parton with the day-drunk stupor of classic Mazzy Star, and it pleases me to inform you that "Horses Can't Outrun Me" does not disappoint. Your mileage may vary, of course; I'm old and half drunk and a complete idiot besides. But the bottom line is that I like this song a lot.

"Irrelevant," David Mead
If you're already tired of me sounding the alarm about a new David Mead album on the way, tough shit — it looks like he's prepared to dribble out pre-release tracks between now and September, when January, San Fernando arrives on streaming platforms. (You can purchase the whole thing now via Bandcamp, if you're so inclined — and if you aren't, I have to question your judgment.) I've already spent a lot of time with this record, and "Irrelevant" is one of my favorite songs, which is saying a lot.

"I Know You Know (Yttling Jazz Remix)," Bonny Light Horseman
If you've been waiting for the Bonny Light Horseman Venn diagram to overlap with the Peter, Bjorn, & John Venn diagram, then you're bound to be delighted with this track, which finds Björn Yttling remixing the band's "I Know You Know." If you haven't been waiting for that not-so-momentous occasion, I'd be willing to bet you'll still have a lot of fun with this remix, which weaves woodwind madness into adenoidal singer-songwriter observations on life and love.

"Irish Goodbye," The Honeydogs
We close out with the single release that made me happiest today — the long-awaited return of the Honeydogs, who preface their upcoming album with a cheery uptempo number about being ghosted like a complete fucking asshole. I've been digging these guys for nearly 30 years, and as with many veteran acts who've long since run out of major-label rope, their new releases have only grown more sporadic as time's worn on. I'd resigned myself to thinking of the Honeydogs in the past tense, but they're still with us — classic lineup and all! — and they sound like they're brimming with piss and vinegar. Bring on the rest of the record, pronto.