–Nina Corcoran
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Samba Jean-Baptiste: “born again freestyle (shed a tear).mp3”
Samba Jean-Baptiste is an artist who conjures the feeling of flipping through tear-stained scrapbook pages. Most exemplary is his bare-bones, string-laden “born again freestyle,” a frigid track that’s followed me between rainy days and heatwaves this summer. Nestled somewhere between Kid Cudi’s earnest crooning and Dean Blunt’s dry thespianism, Jean-Baptiste beckons for his lover to stay in spite of himself. “A lot of good things come in weird packages, baby,” he sings, and I can picture that sheepish, give-me-one-more-chance kinda smile on his face. We’ve all been there, right?
–Olivier Lafontant
Smerz: “Feisty”
Stop, this is my soooooong! Like I’m the only girl in the wooooorld. OK OK, pee faster, pee faster, gotta get back out there!! Oh my God, no, of course, here, I’ll pass you some toilet paper. Ugh, did you see him out there too? I can’t believe we matched on Tinder, he’s so not my type. You think he’s flirting with me? Oh noooo—I mean, did you see his shoes? I guess that’s what they’re calling fashion these days. Ugh, is my eyeliner bleeding? Oh my God girl yes, of course you can borrow my lip gloss. Fuck, you look amazing! I love you, girl. You’re right, fuck him. Hey, what’s your name?
–Arielle Gordon
dexter in the newsagent: “Special”
Have you ever been so in love that you start talking crazy? On the brisk “Special,” London’s dexter in the newsagent meets us there, in those moments when the summer sun kisses our crushes so gracefully that we’re ready to give it all away. She’s reserved yet assured as she makes big promises behind sweet guitar plucks: “I can love you like you want me to,” “I can give you all you want and more.” It’s a lot to offer, but it sounds so dreamy, the sort of love you want to root for.
–Rae-Aila Crumble
Sickboyrari: “Can I gaal Yu”
Summer is for flings, and also, in some cases, obsessively reinventing yourself in order to impress said flings. Just ask Sickboyrari, a lovelorn emo-rap legend who also answers to Black Kray, Gvcci Kray la Goth, 400 Dagree GothBwoi, Persian Cellphone Prince, and, a million other made-up monikers. Call it disingenuous, but there’s a certain honesty in customizing yourself, presenting as the person you would rather be. On “Can I gaal Yu,” he commits his most brazen act of shape-shifting yet—up-pitching, contorting, and layering his voice into a yearning squeak, like a small army of horny mice. The vocals might not sound human, but the desire certainly does.
–Samuel Hyland
