Single: Lucie – Pale Grey
This tender, atmospheric song wields lo-fi textures and vibrant charm to evoke a pitch-black nursery room, and the overwhelming love and joy within the haze.
This tender, atmospheric song wields lo-fi textures and vibrant charm to evoke a pitch-black nursery room, and the overwhelming love and joy within the haze.
Therein lies the brilliance of Frog: a coy, sleight-of-hand songwriting that launders longing through desire, dread through humor, and profundity through crassness—all neatly packaged into infectious, instant-classic tunes.
An intimate EP that leans into themes of displacement and solitude with polished production, rich instrumentation, and a heavy dose of longing.
“Watery Road” is a spark of child-like wonder—a song that feels at one with the river on which it was conceived.
Birds? is here to remind the world that Pennsylvania is, and shall remain, the beating heart of fourth wave emo.
At once longing and unapologetic, “Dark Out” is yet another enchanting portrait from Frog. Like the band itself, it contains multitudes.
A polished tapestry of guitar-driven bedroom pop, 90’s slacker indie, and 60’s psych-pop whose effect lands softly, vivid in its impact but blurred at the edges like a memory.
“Je Ne Sais Pas” captures the Bateman brothers at the height of their creative whimsy, and proves once again that Frog might be the most interesting thing to happen to popular music in the past decade.
“No Other” is a catchy surfwave ballad that blends sun-kissed alt/indie sensibilities with the viscous textural presence of dream-pop and shoegaze. Fans of Beach Fossils, Day Way, and Far Caspian will find plenty to enjoy in this finely-crafted track.
“It’s pretty underground, you wouldn’t know what that, uh, what that is,” jests “Parting Words”,
Otracami’s textural approach to songwriting creates a collage of imagery and cohesive narrative, evoking disquiet of winter’s depths.
Catchy vocals, at once raw and diffuse, ride a hazy wash of jangle and grit in this instant classic banger that dares the listener to remain immobile, knowing full well that it’s already won the wager.
Pretty guitar work and an unfussy chord progression float atop a gentle stream of cassette tape hiss. Equal parts the antique aesthetic of Julian Koster’s Orbiting Human Circus and the detached yearning of an angst-free Duster, this bedroom-pop vignette will sink into your chest and linger long beyond its brief runtime.
Italian four-piece All You Can Hate doubles down on their raw-yet-refined vision
Through this lens, every detail feels poignant and deliberate.
The band maintains the energetic roots and infectious melodies they’ve long been known for.