Indie folk singer/songwriter mer marcum offers a hushed, intimate act of release on “Body” (ft. Jia*), a breathtakingly beautiful, achingly tender confession that finds healing not in erasing what hurts, but in finally listening to what the body remembers.

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Stream: “Body” – mer marcum ft. Jia*

There’s a particular kind of stillness that only comes when you stop running from yourself – when you finally listen to what your body has been trying to say all along.

That’s the space “Body” inhabits: A hushed, hauntingly beautiful moment of reckoning and release from singer/songwriter mer marcum, featuring the warm, soul-stirring harmonies of Jia*. Built on a gentle, aching guitar line and voices that seem to breathe in unison, the song unfolds like a confession whispered inward to yourself – tender, exposed, and deeply alive.

Released January 9^th, “Body” doesn’t rush its revelations. Instead, it moves with patience and care, letting emotion surface through repetition, restraint, and breath. Marcum’s voice feels close enough to touch, carrying a vulnerability that never performs its pain, but allows it to exist. Lines like I’m listening, listening to my body land with quiet force, framing the song as an act of attention – to memory, to trauma, to the ways we carry experience not just emotionally, but physically. The result is indie folk at its most intimate: Less storytelling than shared presence, less resolution than recognition.

I’m listening, listening to her sing
While I’m taking a shower
I’m finally getting clean
I’ll wash you off for hours
I’ll let the water run blue
But nothing could remove
the taste I have of you

That intimacy is rooted in who these artists are and how they move through the world. mer marcum, a Waco, Texas–born, Brooklyn-based singer/songwriter and producer, has steadily emerged as one of indie folk’s most quietly arresting new voices, blending lyrical intimacy with a willingness to sit inside discomfort rather than resolve it. After releasing music under a previous moniker and earning early support from NPR’s Bob Boilen, Marcum has since found her stride under her own name, crafting songs that feel less like confessionals and more like open rooms you’re invited to enter.

Jia*, the Los Angeles–based duo of siblings Jake and Sophia “Fia” Augustine, bring a complementary emotional fluency to “Body,” known for their warm, R&B-inflected harmonies and instinct for restraint. Together, their voices don’t compete for attention – they listen, respond, and hold space, mirroring the song’s central act of care.

At its core, “Body” grows from Marcum’s reckoning with the idea that our bodies remember what our minds try to outrun.

Long before she had language for it, she was circling the truth behind Bessel van der Kolk’s The Body Keeps the Score – a book she admits she wasn’t ready to face. “They say the body keeps the score, and for a long time I believed certain people and experiences would have a permanent hold on me – like an eternal iron grip,” she shares. “I never actually read The Body Keeps the Score; it sat on my nightstand like something I wasn’t ready to face, so instead, I wrote a song.” Rather than narrating trauma directly, “Body” traces its residue – how memory settles into muscle, habit, and sensation, quietly shaping how we move through the world.

That awareness surfaces most clearly in the song’s lyrics, which ground emotional release in everyday ritual. I’m listening, listening to her sing / while I’m taking a shower / I’m finally getting clean, Marcum sings, letting water become both witness and attempted absolution. The desire to wash something away is met with resistance: nothing could remove the taste I have of you. Listening becomes the song’s central verb – listening to others, to memory, and finally inward. Mia says it’s been keeping score, she offers later, naming the truth the song has been circling all along. As the final refrain dissolves into layered voices repeating around, around, around, the song stops moving forward and begins to surround you, mirroring how emotion loops rather than resolves.

I’m listening, listening to my body
Mia says its been keeping score
I wonder how she knows as much as she does
When I was her age I didn’t know enough

This sense of exposure extends directly to how “Body” was made. Originally conceived as a layered, electronic demo, the song only found its true shape once Marcum allowed it to be dismantled alongside Jia*. “I brought ‘Body’ to them as this super overproduced demo I had made, and they whittled it down and excavated from it this form, which is super exposed and stripped back,” she explains. Recorded live at Wasatch Studios in Los Angeles, the final version preserves first takes – Marcum’s vocal, Jake Augustine’s guitar, Sebastian Jones’ bass – untouched and unguarded. “I didn’t double my vocals, we didn’t really comp anything,” she says. “… Feels close to magic.”

Her restraint is felt in every breath. Jia*’s harmonies don’t decorate the song so much as hold it, weaving softly around Marcum’s lead like a second pulse. The result is a shared vulnerability rather than a solo confession. “This song makes me feel naked,” Marcum admits – and you can hear it. Every hesitation, every swell of harmony, every silence feels intentional and human in the best possible way.

The collaboration itself grew organically. Marcum first encountered Jia* through a friend, sensing immediately that their emotional sensibilities aligned. When the song stalled in its original form, the group chose to stop forcing it and start fresh. That decision – to listen rather than push – mirrors the song’s own message. “It was scary to let go of the guitar part and melody I had brought in because I was pretty attached to it,” Marcum reflects. “But what a great lesson to learn that when you aren’t so attached to things and you’re willing to let them change, who knows what they’ll become.”

That philosophy carries through the song’s emotional impact. Inspired by the idea that our bodies never forget, “Body” is less about recounting specific events than evoking a sensation – the slow realization of how deeply we’re shaped by what we’ve lived through. Marcum describes it as learning to listen differently: noticing how self-talk, care, and neglect register physically over time, and how awareness itself can become healing. That sensitivity pulses through the song’s structure, especially as its final verse circles and echoes, letting “word gets around” gently surround the listener like a thought you can’t quite shake.

I’m listening, my ear is to the ground
I heard what you said
Word gets around
Around, around, around
Around, around, around
Around, around, around

In the end, “Body” feels like both a prayer and a quiet affirmation.

It doesn’t offer answers so much as attention. It invites you to slow down, to notice what you’ve been carrying, and to trust that listening itself can be an act of care. Soft without being fragile, exposed without being unsafe, the song holds space for feeling without demanding resolution. It’s a song to walk with, to sit with, to let wash over you slowly – and in its stillness, it offers something rare and generous: Permission to feel, to listen, and to trust what your body already knows.

mer marcum and Jia*’s Jake Augustine recently sat down with Atwood Magazine to talk about their collaboration on “Body” – from stripping the original demo down to its exposed, live-recorded core, to learning to let go and let the song lead the way – and what it’s meant to finally listen inward instead of pushing past what the body remembers. Read our conversation below, and let “Body” linger long enough to hear what it’s really saying. As breathtakingly beautiful as it is achingly tender, this is a song that sits with you – on the ears, the heart, and the soul – long, long after the last note fades.

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:: stream/purchase Body here ::

:: connect with mer marcum here ::

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Stream: “Body” – mer marcum ft. Jia*

A CONVERSATION ABOUT “BODY“

mer marcum: I sure hope people like what they hear! I am constantly changing and so is my music, so I want to keep people on their toes and bring them into my mind through both my songs and my visual world!

Jake Augustine: I met Mer through some mutual friends at a show at The Fable in LA, and Sophia connected with Mer through me. “Body” just needed some vocal love, and Mer asked if Jia* could feature.

mer marcum: My friend Max Himelhoch actually sent me Jia*’s record last year and I was like oh this is special. I brought “Body” to them as this super overproduced demo I had made, and they whittled it down and excavated from it this form, which is super exposed and stripped back.

mer marcum: “Body” is my first non-bedroom production. We made it in Wasatch Studios in LA and I think the quality really shows for that. Like the last couple releases, “Body” is in line with the sort of gentle, folk-inspired sound I’ve been exploring, but there’s a vulnerability to this particular song. I didn’t double my vocals, we didn’t really comp anything, we used the first take of my vocal and Jake’s guitar and Seb’s bass from pretty much the day we wrote it. Feels close to magic!

mer marcum: It’s one of those concept songs written non-linearly about a couple instances reflecting this idea of “body keeps the score.” This tends to be how I write. Last year I was thinking about my body a lot. I was feeling resentful some times and grateful others. I started actually listening to my body. I became aware of how I was treating myself, how I was talking to myself, etc. And as trite as it may seem, just that awareness became so healing. I realize the verses to this song aren’t exactly about any specific instance you can imagine or place yourself in, but rather they evoke the sentiment of having a physical body that is affected both externally and emotionally.

Jake Augustine: I can’t remember my first impression. What I remember is it wasn’t working, and we kept trying to force the demo into a new place. Mer had the sense to stop us and redirect, start fresh. We actually made headway jamming on new instrumentation, and we pumped out the bones for the song in a new direction.

mer marcum: This song makes me feel naked.

mer marcum: Oh totally. Firstly, working with Jake, Fia, and Seb taught me so much, watching their process and getting to know them as artists through this. So inspiring. This was also the first song of mine that I reworked to sound completely different from how I wrote it. The only thing that stayed the same from the initial demo I made were the words. It was scary to let go of the guitar part and the melody I had brought in, because I was pretty attached to it. But what a great lesson to learn that when you aren’t so attached to things and you’re willing to let them change, who knows what they’ll become! Something magic perhaps!

mer marcum: I love the use of the verb listening throughout this song. It begins each verse but adapts differently to each context. I also really love how verse three turned out on the track. It could have just been an after thought tacked on to the end. It can be tough to justify three verses, you know. But melodically it’s my favorite verse, especially the way the “word gets around” part evolves and starts to sort of surround you right at the very end.

I’m listening, my ear is to the ground
I heard what you said
Word gets around
Around, around, around

mer marcum: I hope it feels hopeful to people and prompts some sort of reflection. I think it’d be a nice song to go for a walk to. Or to listen to in the shower. A happy accident that it’s coming out right at the beginning of the year!

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:: stream/purchase Body here ::

:: connect with mer marcum here ::

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Stream: “Body” – mer marcum ft. Jia*

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