There Is No Tomorrow by Ty Segall is a kind of anti-slow dance. Its t-shirt is wrinkled, its shoulders are slouched, but the love is still true. If I had been born ten years earlier, I would have been the beta girl sidekick in every teen movie, the one with dark hair and darker eyes, the one two inches shorter than my camera-focused best friend, sitting in the corner and hating every second of it, the one whose story is actually worth telling.
Radio Waves I by Van She takes me to another place, where my headache doesn’t matter anymore, and I’m curled up under the blankets on a Saturday morning, expecting warm waffles on a plate bathed in sunshine. An orange clock radio is blaring this song, but I don’t even mind.