Some songs arrive like a thunderclap. Others slip in unnoticed, weaving their way into your subconscious until you realize they’ve taken root. Cameron Stenger’s latest single, “Lingering,” falls squarely into the latter category. A quiet, emotionally rich meditation on memory and aftermath, the track serves as the first glimpse into his forthcoming album Lighter, due Summer 2025. It’s a subtle, slow-burning triumph from a songwriter who has long favored introspection over spectacle, and with “Lingering”, he invites listeners into one of his most vulnerable spaces yet.

Stenger, based in North Carolina, has built a steady following over the years for his evocative songwriting and hushed, aching delivery. Comparisons to artists like Elliott Smith, Nick Drake, and Jeff Tweedy persist, but Stenger has never chased mimicry. Instead, he’s worked with restraint, carefully carving out a voice that’s distinct in its understatement. With “Lingering,” he doesn’t demand attention—he earns it, line by line, note by note, breath by breath.

The song begins in near silence. Fingerpicked guitar creates a delicate lattice beneath Stenger’s hushed vocal, his words arriving like thoughts formed in real time. The pace is intentional, mirroring the emotional paralysis of its subject: the hollow space between loss and healing. “Lingering” is not about catharsis—it’s about the time just before it, when you’re still sorting through the wreckage, still tethered to what’s already gone.

A descending bassline, rich and melodic, begins to pull the track downward before lifting it into a new plane. Subtle, Beatlesque in shape, it’s the first sign of movement. Then the dam breaks: drums tumble in, guitars swell and shimmer, and Stenger’s voice strains—not with volume, but with feeling. There’s a storm inside this song, but it never spills over. Every element remains in service to the emotional architecture, held together by the delicate tension between control and collapse.

One of the most devastating lines comes almost casually: “Still in love with the aftermath.” It lands like a punch to the chest, perfectly capturing the central paradox of the song—how we sometimes cling to the debris of heartbreak long after its fire has gone out. It’s that complicated, in-between emotional state that “Lingering” embodies so effectively. Nothing is resolved here. Nothing is easy. But everything is honest.

The song’s accompanying video, directed by Erin Scannell, offers a visual meditation to match. Dreamlike and disorienting, it features ghostly doubles, slow-motion sequences, and nature rendered both intimate and unfamiliar. Floating flowers, flickering mirrors, the soft erosion of identity—all of it echoes the internal shifting that “Lingering” speaks to. The video is as gorgeously composed as it is emotionally unsettling, allowing the viewer to sit inside the very limbo the song conjures.

What sets Stenger apart, particularly with this release, is his trust in the listener. He doesn’t rush to the hook, doesn’t overstate his message, doesn’t force a resolution. Instead, he asks you to stay. To sit with the discomfort. To notice the small turns of phrase, the undercurrents, the silences between sounds. It’s the kind of songwriting that rewards patience—and more importantly, presence.

With “Lingering”, Cameron Stenger offers a compelling introduction to Lighter, an album that already promises to be his most emotionally ambitious to date. If the rest of the record carries even a fraction of the resonance heard here, Stenger won’t just be returning—he’ll be redefining the shape of his artistic identity.

For now, “Lingering” is enough. It’s a song that doesn’t beg to be played again. It just waits—on the edge of your day, in the corner of your mind—until you come back to it. And you will.

Award-winning Canadian Folk/Americana artist Robert Thomas and the sessionmen channel a youthful spark and the warmth of lifelong friendship on “Kick the Can,” the nostalgic and upbeat opening track from their sophomore album The Way We Roll, out now.

A deeply personal and resonant record, The Way We Roll captures Thomas’ reflections on his Atlantic Canadian upbringing with sharp lyricism and a rich, organic sound. From the bittersweet “Springhill” and stripped-down piano ballad “Beside You,” to bluegrass-tinged moments like “Lake Louise” and “A River Runs Through,” the album draws vivid emotional lines between joy, heartbreak, nostalgia, and resilience.

Rooted in a real childhood memory of moving from L.A. to Ohio, “Kick the Can” recalls the night Thomas, then the new kid in town, was invited to join a group of neighborhood kids for a game that changed everything. “In about two hours, I had more friends than I ever had in LA,” he shares. “I had a helluva good time in Columbus for the next two years.”

Fun, insightful, and infused with a spirit of community, “Kick the Can” showcases the Folk/Americana magic that defines The Way We Roll. Produced, engineered, and mixed by JUNO Award–winners Catherine MacLellan and Mark Westberg, the track brings together rich acoustic textures, spirited harmonies, and top-tier musicianship from the sessionmen (Ray Legere, Jon Arsenault) and a handpicked roster of guest players.

British-born, France-based singer-songwriter Simon Scardanelli delivers a thunderous call to arms with his latest single, “Battle Ships,” a gritty and rebellious folk-rock anthem drawn from his forthcoming climate-themed folk-opera La Mer.

Both defiant and mythic in tone, “Battle Ships” imagines a mythical race waging war against humankind in a last-ditch rebellion against our environmental destruction. Featuring raw acoustic textures, urgent vocals, and an unexpected dose of ukulele power, the track feels like an uprising in motion – intimate and cinematic in equal measure.

Originally written for La Mer (slated for release in late 2025), the track earned its place on Scardanelli’s new album after proving to be a showstopper in his live sets. “It brings the house down live,” Simon shares. “There’s not many times you get to hear a ukulele played with this kind of aggression.”

New England folk songwriter Dan Pallotta has a new single out entitled, “Working Man’s Son,” a powerful, upbeat and introspective folk track that captures the emotional tension of gratitude and guilt in a son’s relationship with his father.

The inspiration for the song came from Pallotta’s relationship with his father, who passed away three years ago. Pallotta reflects on the complex feelings that come with being the son of a working-class father.” Pallotta explains.

Speaking of the song’s title, Pallotta states, “It’s lenticular. It means at once intense pride on one hand, and a heavy burden and sorrow on the other.”

The song’s production reflects the emotional depth of the lyrics, with Pallotta opting for a more upbeat arrangement after initially considering a slow, intimate piano ballad. “We tried that ten different ways and it was dragging. Once I decided to pick up the tempo and raise the key to about the top of my voice, the existing arrangement came together,” he explains.

The track’s mood is both melancholic and inspiring, with a powerful sense of tribute and loss interwoven into the music. Pallotta’s poignant lyrics and thoughtful storytelling are complemented by his collaborators, including multi-instrumentalist Peter Davis, who contributed a variety of elements, including djembe, cajon, shruti box, electric guitar, and bass to the recording.

California-based singer-songwriter Ynana Rose unveils a tender new take on “Landslide,” reinterpreting the classic 1975 Fleetwood Mac ballad through the lens of midlife transition and acoustic folk-pop beauty. With silky vocals, understated piano, and warm, expressive cello, the track is a loving ode to change, reflection, and the enduring strength that comes with age.

Originally added to her live set just a few years ago, Rose’s connection to the song deepened when her teenage son Luca encouraged her to record it. “Mama, you need to record that song,” he told her after a performance – so she did, with Luca contributing a heartfelt piano arrangement and Logan Castro lending lush cello to complete the intimate production.

“Landslide” is part homage, part personal reckoning – balancing wistful melancholy with honesty, gratitude, and love. The children that I built my life around for so long have grown, and I need to re-focus my energies onto other things, including my own expansion. One of the many gifts of aging is that we become bolder in the pursuit of what we desire. – Ynana Rose

With her devastatingly honest new single, “Learning to Miss You,” Toronto-based artist City Builders unveils a raw, cinematic pop track rooted in heartbreak, longing, and emotional release. Shaped by Grace Turner’s deeply personal experiences, the track explores the kind of grief that comes not just from romantic loss, but from the complex mourning of deep friendships.

Written alongside acclaimed writing duo Thank You Thank You and her former partner, the song’s emotional weight is amplified by the fact that the final vocals were recorded the very day Grace’s relationship ended. The breakup became not just the backdrop but the heartbeat of
“Learning to Miss You,” making this track one of her most vulnerable and affecting yet.

I wrote this song after running into my ex-best friend at a show. Despite everything that went wrong, I suddenly missed him again. Later, when I recorded the vocals, my partner broke up with me right after the session. Those vocals, captured in the rawest moment, are the ones you hear on the track. – Grace Turner