July 29, 2025 — Weekly Bullet Reviews
New week, new reviews. A few of us went to Warped Tour last weekend so there’s a few chill-er songs on here so we can recover from the high. Another fun mix, as always!
As always, some ground rules:
- These songs are listed in no particular order.
- Basically these blurbs are our rough first impressions of these tracks, so our reviews will be a lot more relaxed!
- Anything released from the past 3 weeks/month is eligible for a bullet review.
- Songs with new, recent music video releases will also be considered for a weekly bullet review.
Mya: I’m reminded of those videos where people mimic how video games animate human movement. Maybe it’s the glitchy, recursive feeling of the vocals. Like running in place. A dream you can’t escape.
Justin: “J’ai le cafard” is weirdo electronic French-Japanese music to get steppy to. The “J’ai le cafard / Je n’ai envie de ne rien faire” lyric makes my brain feel good and I will try to implement it in my daily life somehow. Listening to this make my brain try to roll out of my head to do its own thing. Pairs perfectly with “Le poisson steve.” Thanks ZOMBIE-CHANG.
Li-Wei: Ok, I gave up and had to Google what “J’ai le cafard / Je n’ai envie de ne rien faire” meant, and it roughly translates to “I’m feeling down, I don’t want to do anything.” Going into this new ZOMBIE-CHANG song, maybe that’s some good context to have since she repeats the phrase ad nauseum throughout, somewhat turning the breakdown of a sad phrase’s syllables into a morphing beat. This track works with its thumping house beat and wonky theatrics, and it’s just enough to make me want to press replay. Shoutout to that cute kindergarten-core cockroach that features in the video… someone turn it into a marketable plushie. I’m buying.
C: “J’ai le cafard” elicits the feeling I have late at night, when my thoughts slow to an uncomfortable crawl. The constant repeated hook supported by shifting arrangements of sawtooth bass and synths feel like saliva that’s sat in my mouth too long. Listening to the track leaves me feeling dazed and enthralled. I’m not sure what to make of it. It’s far from insubstantial, but the feeling it elicits is akin to engaged confusion.
Mya: “Saltburn” captures that desperate, crawling feeling of a casual, one-sided crush. “Let me eat off your plate!” I understand it very well.
Justin: This is my type of summer sound. “Saltburn” is a reclined, reserved, hand in the breeze jam that will break through all the inevitable heat. Easy to love track that makes you want to make plans with friends. Which reminds me, I have to schedule that bonfire. For fans of the pillows, Subsonic Eye, and Scott Pilgrim.
Li-Wei: YONLAPA has been making a big splash in the Asian indie scene recently, and a cursory listen to “Saltburn” tells me exactly why the Thai band is on that upward trajectory. “Saltburn” reminds me a lot of the grungy 90s-00s era muffled indie rock that’s currently in the nostalgia cycle (The Breeders first comes to mind) and they’ve got the chops to make it big. Also, is “Let me eat off your plate!” a Saltburn reference? I have no idea but that’s an awesome line to put in your chorus. Plus, there’s some lovely guitarwork that I can’t help but fall in love with towards the end, too.
C: YONLAPA has long had a place in my slacker rock playlist (named “Something that rhymes with Pavement” of all things). The band often blends laid back grit with shoegaze. Last year’s “I’m Just Like That” had me in a chokehold for a few months, solidly cementing itself as one of my favorite songs of the year. Fewchy’s hair might be majestic but what really gets my head bobbing is YONLAPA’s confidence in riffs. Gun’s guitar insists itself, repeating over and over a riff that forms the backbone of a song’s catchiness before pulling back to highlight Noina’s singing.
Mya: Superfan, I’m trying so hard to decipher what you’re saying, but I’m going to need the lyrics posted somewhere. I like the sound of this song. The strings towards the end are just lovely.
Justin: Superfan hands us an off-kilter wandering yarn that evokes Bob Dylan and Joni Mitchell. The sawing violins intensify the angular, slurring wavering of this track. Can’t help but visualize drunkenly trying to find your way through your apartment complex with stairs once the sun starts to rise. Strong twenty-something overstimulation recovery aura emanating from this. It’s great.
Li-Wei: New Superfan? I’m a fan. “Miss W Jones” is a disheveled, lowkey slow-burning rocker that somehow feels majestic in a time-stopping sort of way. The strings on there are just gorgeous.
C: I want to be drunk just so I can be hungover to this song. “Miss W Jones” sways slowly like a tiny lullaby you could sing yourself to sleep with. While the core is small and intimate the song takes form as a single, long build that’s incredibly emotionally expansive. I don’t often listen to this type of music so, for me, a surprising highlight.
Mya: I associate EDEN with songs that punch your heart over and over. “Ghost in the Shell” has all that I love from him — raw vocals, break-up lyrics, shattered sound. I like how the echoey, haunted notes shift into ripped up, collage-like vocals.
Justin: A blistering, heavily crunched heartbeat. I really appreciate how strangled “Ghost in the Shell” sounds. It’s hard to follow a single voice layer, sample, or instrument. I imagine the entangled production mirrors the yearning. I am less familiar with EDEN’s work but if he’s writing sobering lines like “The ghost I love is in love with someone else / And he doesn’t know about us,” I am sat. Really enjoyed this track.
Li-Wei: I have a few sources near me who are highly anticipating EDEN’s first new album in a few years, and I think I can hear why. “Ghost in the Shell” feels like it’s headed for an epic EDM drop that never comes, and instead makes use of some amazing vocal effects to build a sense of dread. I can feel that sense of excitement if the album is gonna be like this! I also must be missing the reason why EDEN is invoking the wrath of an orchestral four-piece throughout the city in the music video, but it’s out there in the world now.
C: “Ghost in the Shell” is a song that feels like running through stretched paper banners, punching through semi-opaque barriers only to reveal a new space and transition. EDEN leaning into thumping bass and heavy crushed vocoder is a particular favorite of mine; just as the ghost lives in her shell, truthfully, things are more human when you bite through an inhuman exterior. Its effect is similar to Audrey Nuna’s output. I’m somewhat indifferent to the long, escalating spans of vocals and ambient instrumentation that lead in and out of the more danceable midsection, but as a tool to reach something new in between, I tentatively approve.
Mya: Like shimmering, polyester satin.
Justin: Blissful bedroom R&B that would have done numbers on MTV. Yel’s attitude and vocals remind me of the Filipina girl groups One Voice and Pinay. I feel like there could be a great opportunity to explore more of that space.
Li-Wei: “in my room” is all glimmery pop that glides easily through your mind. Yel’s wistful longing is colorful and sweet, which really sells the intimate vibe of the song. I’m amazed at just how well the lyrics, “Can’t help what I’m feeling / I want you in-ti-mate-ly” works here.
C: Sparkling. Echoey. Would go good in several playlists. No further comment.
Mya: Just good, classic 90s rock lyricism. “I’d love to see / Who you won’t become.”
Justin: It’s rock, baby. “7Degrees” is pulled right out of the floor pounding sound of Nirvana and Pearl Jam. Somehow Joseon was able to time travel and bring us a sonic palette that sold CDs and band t-shirts that kids snuck out to get. Wonderfully executed and fun to listen to.
Li-Wei: With their blaring, shoegazey guitarwork, I can see Joseon really finding their audience with this one. Some people in the comments pointed out the mbv similarities, and I’d definitely say that that’s a reference point in “7Degrees.” Maybe Joseon say it best themselves in the song – “It feels / It feels delirious.”
C: 90s commercial grunge has never been more modern or indie. Joseon has managed to extract Nirvana’s ichor and swallowed it without dying.
Justin: Khantrast bares his teeth on “Did It Again” with an aggressive, confident flow with hard rock accoutrements. With headphones on, I can feel him spitting into my ear saying “EFFORTLESS.” If you are in the venn diagram of ASMR and rap, this one’s for you.
Li-Wei: Chat, did he do it again? Khantrast is a rapper who recently “Landed In Brooklyn” and turned that into a viral hit. “Did It Again” is a hip-hop track that finds him taking a victory lap after the success of that one. It’s kind of funny, because I think he has a few other popular songs? He’s already done it multiple times! As for “Did It Again,” it’s a steady one that reinforces Khantrast’s rapping chops, but it’s a bit bloated compared to the concise, fiery song and album that preceded it. But it also gives him a chance to spit the line “And I did this with no major label telling me shit.” With all his recent success, that’s something to be proud of.
C: Oh my god, I remember this guy from his viral On the Radar clip. I truly never thought I’d see him again. I’m not the biggest fan of New York drill but “Did It Again” is a well produced trimming with heavy bass and a solid guitar sample. Khantrast hosts some solid bars but my opinions on him are mixed, it’s tough to definitively say he has the talent to forge a longevity beyond his viral clips. Like many rappers today, his brand is wrapped up in high production and Instagram hype but as much as he has room to grow, he has room to fall.
Mya: At points, “Blame The Gods” reminds me of the tender, bittersweet vocals of Regina Spektor.
Justin: “Blame The Gods” is a quaint, ascendant track swimming in vulnerability. This is the type of music I’d be bawling my eyes out in high school. Gentle piano and lyrics reckoning with relational detachment make for somber bedfellows. There’s an indie movie waiting for a song like this. I crave a bit more push or forcefulness from a track like this.
Li-Wei: Yeemz recently released their new album Blame The Gods a few weeks ago, and the title track off of it is something to behold. She may be best known for the mastery of smaller stringed instruments, but “Blame The Gods” lets the piano shine before coming in with a gorgeous stringed instrumental solo towards the end. Be careful listening to this at 2 in the morning – you might just shed a tear. If you’re a Laufey, Luna Li, or Mei Semones fan, this one’s for you.
Mya: “slip away” describes the stomach-churning anxiety of standing on the outskirts, wanting in on love, dances, and dates. You think you can settle for a pitiful, scornful invite, but once the evening’s over and you’ve slipped away…you know it wasn’t worth it.
Justin: I’m post Warped Tour fam, so I am all about the pop-punkishness of “slip away.” Jewel Owusu’s gliding vocals are such a good contrast for the edgy, punchiness of the guitars and drums. Really, really cool hometown, understated, romantic energy that makes me so sentimental. My track of the week. Also omg, the end of the music video is so stark and almost made me cry!
Li-Wei: “slip away” makes a lot of unexpected turns for a pop song, and maybe that’s why it’s such a curious earworm. I didn’t expect that guitar to come out of left field and creep in, and I definitely didn’t foresee the song to almost dip into hyperpop territory with that beat and those vocal effects. Cool! I’m intrigued – I’ll be keeping an eye on what she’s releasing next.
C: Jewel Owusu’s blend of pop punk and digital production is full of new sounds. Upbeat guitars and drums juxtapose the tick-tacks of electronic high hats and bitcrunched vocals. Owusu’s lyrics seem to ramble on, enjambing line after line about a love lost. I lack some love for pop punk as a whole but Owusu does well mixing genres for a unique sound, I’m excited to hear more.
Galdive – “Teach Me How To Love (ft. Chase Shakur)”
Mya: The sampling is fun and catchy. It’s almost electro-swingy? I like the drip-drip-dripping in the background. It lends a subtle, cavernous feeling to the song.
Justin: This tune swings! Alt kids love the ¾ time signature. There’s a ton of tiny glistening details in this track like the baby piano trills and lyrics getting cut mid-length. It’s a cool effect that makes “Teach Me How To Love” feel like a music box. So glad it escapes the worn down lo-fi hip hop allegations by doing something different.
Li-Wei: Galdive’s Blue might be one of the most underrated albums of the year so far. The Indonesian pop duo signed to Mom + Pop last year and I honestly haven’t heard much about the album since its release back in May, even with its obvious comparisons to Alina Baraz/Galamatias collab Urban Flora EP that would’ve made Blue a surefire hit if it were released in 2015. (Curiously, Mom + Pop also released Urban Flora too, lol)
Maybe that’s why this remix featuring a guest verse from Chase Shakur is being released now, to give it an extra boost? This version builds upon one of the best songs on the album, adding a sexy conversational element to the already smoldering track. It’s good, but honestly probably not essential. Stream Blue, y’all.
C: Galdive never fails to surprise: “Teach Me How To Love” is absolutely no exception. The track seems to limp forward and catch itself every bar, falling on a cushion of thumping staccato bass. There’s no doubt Galdive is very technically skilled, but I sometimes find that their production style sometimes leads to a Jacob Collier-like overproduction. “Teach Me How To Love” grazes but manages to escape these trappings, creating a new and unique palette with enough room to breathe. Its endless trills and grace note arpeggios create the feeling of an enormous, lush space.
Header photo taken from ZOMBIE-CHANG – “J’ai le cafard.”
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