Atwood Magazine is excited to share our Editor’s Picks column, written and curated by Editor-in-Chief Mitch Mosk. Every week, Mitch will share a collection of songs, albums, and artists who have caught his ears, eyes, and heart. There is so much incredible music out there just waiting to be heard, and all it takes from us is an open mind and a willingness to listen. Through our Editor’s Picks, we hope to shine a light on our own music discoveries and showcase a diverse array of new and recent releases.

This week’s Editor’s Picks features Chappell Roan, Jo Hill, Joy Oladokun, Trousdale, MARIS ft. Caroline Kingsbury, and The Ophelias!

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“I get the job done,” Chappell Roan croons – and on her latest single she does exactly that, with a wink, a strut, and a whole lot of sultry, seductive heat. Finally released March 13^th after months of anticipation following her SNL performance last November, “The Giver” is a boot-stompin’, lip-biting, innuendo-laced romp – a rhinestone-studded embrace of that country-pop music made famous by titans like Shania Twain and Carrie Underwood, full of winks, swagger, and sweet sexual liberation. It’s playful, it’s provocative, it’s camp, and it’s proof that Chappell Roan can own any genre she touches – not by parodying it, but by fully embodying it.

Ain’t got antlers on my walls
But I sure know mating calls
From the stalls in the bars
on a Friday night
And other boys may need a map
But I can close my eyes
And have you wrapped
around my fingers like that

Pop’s recently anointed Midwest Princess – and 2025’s Grammy Award winner for Best New Artist – leans into a rowdy, fiddle-fueled sound that feels entirely natural and authentic to her artistry and identity, like she’s been wearing cowboy boots all along. With her signature unapologetic boldness and charismatic flair for storytelling, she makes twang feel timeless and queerness feel classic, delivering a track that’s as effortless as it is electrifying.

“I think I have a special relationship to where I’m from because of country music,” Roan, who hails from the small town of Willard, Missouri (population 6,500), recently told Apple Music Country’s Kelleigh Bannen. “And [I] honor that part of myself by making a country song… Yes, I am gay, and yes, I am ultra pop. Yes, I am a drag queen who can also perform a country song.’”

“The Giver” is campy, frisky, and fun, opening with a swell of soaring fiddle, crunchy electric guitar, and driving drums that instantly set the tone.

Roan wastes no time diving into her cheeky, self-assured world, trading traditional country imagery for something far more exciting and mischievous. “Ain’t got antlers on my walls, but I sure know mating calls,” she teases, turning honky-tonk bravado on its head with a smirk and a knowing grin. Her delivery is suave and effortless, leaning into the song’s flirtatious energy as the rhythm picks up steam. By the time she hits the pre-chorus – “So, baby, when you need the job done, you can call me, baby” – it’s clear she’s in full command, balancing humor, confidence, and pure, unfiltered desire.

The chorus of “The Giver” explodes with unshakable bravado, a foot-stomping, full-throttle declaration of prowess and passion. Roan belts with fearless determination, riding the raucous country-pop instrumentation as she flips the script on traditional roles. “So take it like a taker, ‘cause baby, I’m a giver,” she sings, her voice dripping with charm and innuendo. The pounding drums and electrified strum of the guitars only amplify the song’s playful tone and fiery attitude, each lyric landing like a dare. And when she hammers home the hook – “I get the job done” – it’s less a promise and more a guarantee, cementing “The Giver” as an irresistible, invigorating anthem of agency, thrill, and undeniable allure.

So, baby
When you need the job done
You can call me, baby

‘Cause you ain’t got to tell me
It’s just in my nature
So take it like a taker
‘Cause, baby, I’m a giver
Ain’t no need to hurry
‘Cause, baby, I deliver
Ain’t no country boy quitter
I get the job done
I get the job done

The wider world may have been ‘introduced’ to Chappell Roan through sleek pop masterpieces like “Femininomenon,” “HOT TO GO!” and “Pink Pony Club” (or my personal favorite, “My Kink Is Karma”), but “The Giver” is as true to her roots as any of those songs. Call it ‘country (Chappell’s Version)’ – this music runs through her veins.

“I have such a special place in my heart for country music. I grew up listening to it every morning and afternoon on my school bus and had it swirling around me at bon fires, grocery stores, and karaoke bars,” she tells Atwood Magazine. “Many people have asked if this means I’m making a country album? My answer is.., Right now, I’m just making songs that make me feel happy and fun, and ‘The Giver’ is my take on cuntry xoxo – may the classic country divas lead their genre, I am just here to twirl and do a little gay yodel for y’all.”

Girl, I don’t need no lifted truck
Revvin’ loud to pick you up
‘Cause how I look is how I touch
And in this strip-mall town of dreams
Good luck finding a man who has the means
To rhinestone cowgirl all night long

Only Chappell Roan could make country-pop sound this sexy, this subversive, and this much fun. With “The Giver,” she proves once and for all that when put to the task, she gets the job done.

What does this mean for all us? It’s going to be yet another Chappell Roan summer – this time, with a swanky, sizzling country flare.

So, baby
If you never had one
Call me, baby, yeah

‘Cause you ain’t gotta tell me
It’s just in my nature
So take it like a taker
‘Cause, baby, I’m a giver
Ain’t no need to hurry
‘Cause, baby, I deliver
Ain’t no country boy quitter
I get the job done
I get the job done

“You got this, babe.” With her latest single, British singer/songwriter Jo Hill shouts from the mountaintops, delivering a spirited message of love, reassurance, and unwavering trust. Released March 7^th, “ZOOM OUT” is a triumphant, charismatic, comforting, and deeply affirming anthem of self-empowerment and perspective. Written during a period of personal hardship – including heartbreak and the fallout of being dropped by a label – the song is Hill’s love letter to herself “and every other bad bitch out there that doesn’t know their potential and lets the smaller annoyances of life get in the way of the bigger picture.” Through a dynamic rollercoaster of speed-ups and slow-downs, raw reflections and accentuated gang choruses that become instantly irresistible singalongs, Hill reminds herself and anyone listening to “speak to yourself like you would speak to your best friend.” Infused with hometown memories and a shifting energy that mirrors life’s highs and lows, “ZOOM OUT” encourages all of us to break free from self-doubt, embrace optimism, and – above all – “zoom the f* out” when life feels overwhelming.

When you’re face down
still feeling sorry
with my hand wrapped ‘round
an empty bacardi
screaming what now?
but I am what I am
but i don’t wanna be this way
Be this way

And when you’re strung out
ugly crying over
hella dumb idiot guys
Baby zoom out,
it’s a crime to be crying
over thing that you
just can’t change.
You got this babe.

Sonically, the track blends playful, tempo-shifting momentum with a country-inspired flair that Hill attributes to a recent trip to Nashville. “My inner pow girl was able to come out in this song,” she smiles, emphasizing the organic, free-spirited nature of the recording process. The track’s heartbeat lies in its refrain: “You got this, babe,” a phrase that encapsulates the theme of resilience and camaraderie central to Hill’s recently released debut album, girlhood. As Hill puts it, “I hope listeners feel empowered and like anything is possible. I hope it flips people’s perspectives when they’re feeling low, makes them want to go out and have a pint with their friends.”

“Sometimes it’s about zooming out, looking at the bigger picture, taking a deep breath and shouting, ‘U GOT THIS BABE.’”

Candid, uncompromising, and emotionally charged, “ZOOM OUT” is rooted in Hill’s upbringing and the tough-love wisdom passed down from her mother. “Growing up, whatever happened – if a boy cheated on me or even older, when I’ve faced tricky periods like getting Lyme disease – she’s like, zoom out, wake up, bigger picture,” Hill recalls. This philosophy became the backbone of the track, a vibrant call to shift perspective and find joy even in difficult moments. With lyrics that traverse both childhood struggles and adult anxieties, “ZOOM OUT” serves as a mirror to Hill’s past and present selves, offering a universal reminder to let go of the little things and embrace life’s bigger picture.

Johnny’s got a car
he’s a real boy racer
hurrying to third base
and you’re saying you’re fine about it
but you lied about it

Walking ‘round school
with your reputation,
he’s got his hands
on another girl’s waist,
you’re crying about it
wasting your time about it

You’re never gonna need no man
and no one’s gonna hold you’re hand
‘Cause honey you’re a real bad bitch
and you got bigger plans
You gotta give it all you got
but never give it too much thought
‘Cause damn you’re in a real deep ditch
but I’m gonna pull you out

The production, like the song’s message, is refreshingly unfiltered and raw. Recorded in the moment with collaborators Martin and Havelock, the track was built on a foundation of fun and spontaneity. “All the vocals in this are from one vocal take – we were just having so much fun on the day we just put it in, no drums or anything, just over a guitar,” Hill explains. That effortless energy translates into an electrifying listening experience, where the song’s shifting tempos and genre-blending elements create an intoxicating sense of movement.

“I’d always wanted to write a song that slows down and speeds up,” Hill says. “I think I was just Lime biking and singing into my phone on a journey home, got the melody and just wanted to make a song that was going to be really fun to play live – and turns out, the best way of doing that is changing tempo!”

When you’re face down
still feeling sorry
with my hand wrapped ‘round
an empty Bacardi
screaming what now
but I am what I am
but I don’t wanna be this way
Be this way

And when you’re strung out
heavily crying over
hella dumb idiot guys
Baby zoom out,
it’s a crime to be crying
over things that
you just can’t change.
You got this babe.

“ZOOM OUT” arrives alongside news of a special edition of Hill’s critically acclaimed debut album, which Atwood Magazine previously hailed as “a seductive, spirited indie pop record of raw passion, inner beauty, and human connection [that] simultaneously aches and inspires, capturing Jo Hill’s coming-of-age through a collection of bold, beautiful melodies and unapologetically honest, witty, and warm lyrics.” Fittingly titled girlhood. (u got this babe), the new record features eight additional tracks that keep with the theme, while highlighting Hill’s more playful side.

To that end, her latest single is a perfect reintroduction – a lively and frisky, yet poignant all the same, “ZOOM OUT” is a reminder to loosen our grip on life, soak in the present, and never forget to enjoy the ride. In truth, Jo Hill has crafted more than just an infectious, genre-blurring anthem, but a rallying cry for resilience, self-compassion, and finding joy in the chaos. It’s a song that captures the emotional whiplash of life, blending nostalgia with forward motion, struggle with celebration.

Hill’s signature mix of raw honesty and playful defiance makes “ZOOM OUT” feel like a conversation with a close friend – one who reminds you to take a breath, shift your perspective, and remember that you’ve got this. In a world that often feels overwhelming, Hill’s message is clear: Life isn’t meant to be spent sweating the small stuff, so zoom out and enjoy the ride.

My first major job in the music industry was in content protection and anti-piracy, where my department head continuously reminded us that the most valuable resource in the world wasn’t money, but time. Our time is limited; we only get 24 hours in a day, and while he was primarily focused on funneling listeners toward revenue streams, his words became a mantra and a guide for how I live my life today.

Listening to Joy Oladokun’s latest single, I get the sense that she shares my values in this arena: Our time is so valuable, and so limited, that we must cherish it and spend it as wisely as possible – prioritizing our loved ones over trivialities, and making sure we are where we want to be, as often as we can be there – both physically and emotionally. Released March 10th, “All My Time” is part love letter, part confession, and part level-setting: A warm, easy-flowing declaration from the deepest depths of Oladokun’s heart and soul.

Every hour of the day
I wonder what you’re doing so far
Even when we’re miles away
my watch is set to wherever you are
Oh my mind’s always on you
You can have all my time too

“Being on tour for the past few years has taught me a lot about time zones,” the Nashville-based singer/songwriter shares. “I’m constantly calculating how many hours I’m away from the people I love. I wrote ‘All My Time’ during some downtime at a festival in Mexico while checking to see where I was and who I could call. All of it was recorded in the back lounge of the bus where I’m currently racing across America so I can get back to the place I call home.”

Oladokun’s words add a striking layer of intimacy to “All My Time” – a song that isn’t just about love, but about presence, longing, and the deep-rooted desire to stay connected despite life’s inevitable distances. Her gentle, flowing melody mirrors the song’s sentiment, wrapping listeners in a warmth that feels both nostalgic and urgent: A reminder that time is fleeting, and the people we hold closest are worth every second we can give them.

In a world that constantly demands our attention, “All My Time” feels like an antidote to distraction – an invitation to be intentional with the hours we have. Whether it’s a fleeting phone call, a stolen moment of stillness, or a journey home, Oladokun reminds us that love isn’t just about words or gestures; it’s about showing up, again and again, in whatever way we can. Because at the end of the day, time may be our most valuable resource, but how we choose to spend it is what truly defines us.

Trousdale kicked off 2025 on an especially lively note this January, returning to the ‘spotlight’ just six months after their debut album’s deluxe release with the first tease of their sophomore album. Sweet, sassy, charming, and churning, “Growing Pains” radiates that same heat and sun-soaked passion we first fell in love with five years ago. The Los Angeles-based trio of Quinn D’Andrea, Georgia Greene, and Lauren Jones bring love and light to everything they touch, and the lead single (and title track) off their next record is no exception – radiating with an infectious passion underscored by big, bold melodies and lyricism that is at once empowering and honest.

I feel it in my knees
Catching up to me each morning
I’m proud of how far I’ve come
But there’s a long, long way to go

So, I run the extra mile
And I do it with a smile, no problem
I may not win the race, but
Steady and slow

“This song was about what we feel every day in this band, what we’re going through as a band,” Georgia Greene explains. “This is our shared experience, being exhausted but finding beauty together.”

That duality – of passion and exhaustion, of chasing dreams while grappling with their weight – is what makes “Growing Pains” such a relatable and memorable anthem. The band captures the tension between ambition and burnout, balancing the thrill of creative fulfillment with the harsh realities of an industry that demands constant output and reinvention.

“The idea for this song came about pretty naturally by discussing one of our favorite subjects: How exhausted we are,” bandmate Lauren Jones adds. “It really is so disorienting at times to have a career that is your passion, but also your work. Your boundaries are constantly being pushed and pulled, and you’re always willing to put-in the overtime because you care so much. Over time, this can really start to look like burn out if you’re not careful. ‘Growing Pains’ is about living the dream while acknowledging that the dream can be pretty hard sometimes.”

Yet, through it all, Trousdale continue to find joy in the journey. “Growing Pains” isn’t just about struggle – it’s about perseverance, camaraderie, and the love that keeps them moving forward. With its anthemic energy and heartfelt honesty, the song sets the tone for what promises to be a deeply personal and electrifying new chapter for the band. Troudale’s sophomore album Growing Pains is out April 11 via Independent Co.

“I’m not just one of the girls,” MARIS admits at the start of her stunning new single. “Can’t you see I’m thinking about your lips?” There’s a tension that sits at the heart of “Give Me a Sign” – a nervous, fluttering energy that pulses beneath MARIS’ shimmering melodies and Caroline Kingsbury’s soaring vocals. It’s a song steeped in longing, fear, and the unspoken weight of queer desire – one that many listeners will find painfully familiar. And yet, for all its aching uncertainty, “Give Me a Sign” is as much an anthem as it is a confession: A cathartic, synth-drenched burst of hope wrapped in irresistible indie pop euphoria.

“Growing up and starting to have romantic feelings in Missoula, Montana meant a few things,” MARIS tells Atwood Magazine. “One of them being, a slight nervousness around accidentally making the first move on a girl who may not be into me, let alone queer! Because not only does that rejection sting – the potential social ridicule of being gay and making a straight girl feel gross is terrifying.”

That fear lingers into adulthood, shaping the emotional core of “Give Me a Sign”: “Now, as an adult, I find myself terrified to make the first move, subconsciously begging my crushes to make the first move – so I can know if it’s safe for me to express my own attraction. ‘Give Me a Sign’ is that plea for my crush to show me they want me, so I can show them how badly I want them. Is it Girlie Pops… or is it more?”

That plea echoes throughout the track, carried by MARIS’ emotive vocal performance and Kingsbury’s powerhouse delivery. “I saw the icon that is MARIS on Instagram and was blown away by her talent,” Kingsbury recalls. “We set up a writing session and literally from the moment I walked in the door I felt her joy and spirit… We’re ‘80s rock vocals mamas. I’ve never felt so seen by another artist! Our collaboration on ‘Give Me a Sign’ was just a matter of time… and the first of many.”

What makes “Give Me a Sign” so compelling isn’t just its lyrical vulnerability, but the way its sound mirrors the emotional push and pull of queer longing. The track is coated in glossy, cinematic production, blending glistening synths with raw, impassioned vocals that crackle with both anticipation and hesitation. MARIS and Kingsbury don’t just sing about wanting a sign – they make you feel that desire in every breathless beat and soaring chorus.

For all its heartache, “Give Me a Sign” doesn’t wallow. Instead, it dances on the edge of possibility, leaving space for connection, courage, and maybe even love. It’s a song for anyone who’s ever hesitated before sending a text, stolen glances across a crowded room, or waited just a second too long before leaning in. And at its core, it’s a reminder that, sometimes, the sign we’re waiting for is already there – we just have to trust ourselves enough to see it.

The Ophelias’ “Cumulonimbus” feels like a song pulled straight from the deepest hours of the night – when the world is asleep, the streets are empty, and your thoughts echo louder than they should. There’s a charge in the air, an eerie loneliness that clings to every note, as if the song itself is a streetlamp flickering above an empty road. The lead single off the band’s forthcoming album Spring Grove – notably the first album Julien Baker has produced for another artist – “Cumulonimbus” is heavy with self-reflection, memory, longing, and the ghosts of what’s been left behind.

Vocalist/guitarist Spencer Peppet wrote the song during multi-hour nighttime walks through her Ohio neighborhood at the height of 2020’s isolation. “No one was out, especially not late at night,” she recalls. “On those walks, I would listen to my designated walk playlist (which still rips – Slow Pulp, HAIM, Yves Tumor, The Books, Blood Orange) and crisscross down the center of the road. That playlist still brings back the sense memory.”

Not like I could have told the future
but it makes sense
You say that in the years to come
you wish me all the best
And I don’t doubt it for a second
that you know it’s cruel
You are already prematurely grey
so you can choose the rules

This intimate solitude seeps into the track’s core, wrapping listeners in an electrically charged haze of reverb and melancholia. The chorus is cinematic in its storytelling – the memories you locked into the trunk of the car are going to start to bang on the back window, cursing at nothing – a visceral image of nostalgia turned restless, haunting the present with the weight of the past.

I know that you are gonna miss me
more than you say you
Will, the memories you locked
into the trunk of the car are going to
Start to bang on the back window,
cursing at nothing
Smashing the taillights and waving
hello, saying “You better pull over”

Produced with a delicate yet expansive touch, “Cumulonimbus” is the kind of song that lingers long after it ends. It’s a spectral presence, whispering down empty streets, weaving between flickering neon, pressing against glass. The Ophelias have crafted a nocturnal anthem for the lonely and the lost – those who find themselves awake when they shouldn’t be, chasing something they can’t quite name.

And in the glow of Spring Grove’s impending release, “Cumulonimbus” stands as its first beacon, illuminating the road ahead with quiet, mesmerizing intensity.

Not like I’m blissful,
being stuck in here
My palpitations last so long
that I can overhear
The next decisions being made
without me in the room
These things are predetermined
and I’m doomed

I know that you are gonna miss me
more than you say you
Will, the things that
I didn’t say are always going to
Hang above you
like a cumulonimbus
I am on your heels,
I’m running like it’s nothing

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Editor’s Picks

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