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 The Favors (FINNEAS and Ashe), Hushtones, ROLE MODEL, Adult Mom, Zac Farro, & fanclubwallet!!

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The Favors have left me speechless – not for lack of words, but because I’ve been singing their song nonstop since its release. As sonically raw and radiant as it is emotionally resonant, “The Little Mess You Made” feels like an instant classic. The Favors’ breathtaking debut single is a slow-burning reckoning that wears its wounds out in the open. It’s Ashe and Finneas O’Connell like we’ve never heard them – not just as collaborators, but co-conspirators in heartbreak. It’s unfiltered. It’s human. It’s harmony as confrontation and catharsis, all wrapped into one. There’s something timeless about a duet done right – the tension, the tenderness, the quiet ache of two voices pulling toward each other even as they fall apart. This song checks all the boxes.

The little mess you made
Is filling up our room
A little bit of rain
Is filling up our shoes
Maybe second place
Is just the first to lose
You can have your cake
You can have mine too

Say when
You’ll never see me again

Structurally, “The Little Mess You Made” is genius – a slow waltz of hurt and honesty. FINNEAS opens with his side of the story, Ashe responds with hers, and by the third verse, they’re singing over and through one another, echoing lines like ghosts of conversations past. “The little mess you made / Is filling up our room…” becomes “The little mess you made / Is all over the news…” and the weight builds from there, each verse intensifying until the pair collapse under the ache of it all. “Say when / You’ll never see me again,” they repeat, until there’s nothing left to say.

Lyrically and emotionally, “The Little Mess You Made” holds nothing back – but it’s the delivery that devastates. The way Ashe leans into her lines with quiet fury. The way FINNEAS lets his voice break just enough to sting. There’s no ego here, only ache. As Ashe puts it, “This is the way every artist dreams of making an album. People don’t sing together anymore when they’re recording, but it was so romantic and fun.” That magic – of two artists in the room, facing each other, singing through the wreckage – lives in every line.

The little mess you made
Is all over the news
The littlest mistake
Can leave the darkest bruise
Maybe I’m too late
Maybe it’s too soon
Who gets all the blame?
I guess it’s up to you

Say when
You’ll never see me again
Just pretend
She was just a friend

The song sets the tone for The Dream, the pair’s forthcoming debut album under The Favors moniker (out September 19^th via Darkroom Records). A project inspired by the golden Laurel Canyon era, The Dream was written and recorded between Nashville and Los Angeles – a transcontinental labor of love. “It’s a true ‘long-play album’ in its real intended meaning,” says FINNEAS. “Hopefully, you can have friends over, cook a meal, and play this on vinyl front-to-back.”

A former Atwood Editor’s Pick herself, Ashe adds, “I want you to feel simultaneously warm, fuzzy, and heartbroken at the same time.”

Mission accomplished. “The Little Mess You Made” is dramatic and dynamic, delicate and devastating – a testament to what happens when two artists choose to share the spotlight, the story, and the scar tissue. It’s not just a reintroduction; it’s a reckoning. And it’s one hell of a debut.

The little mess you made, the little mess you made
Is filling up our room, is all over the news
A little bit of rain, the littlest mistake
Is filling up our shoes, can leave the darkest bruise
Maybe second place, maybe I’m too late
Is just the first to lose, maybe it’s too soon
You can have your cake, who gets all the blame?
You can have mine too, I guess it’s up to you

Say when
You’ll never see me again

There’s a golden light in “Fragments” – a kind of sun-soaked shimmer that shines through even as the lyrics wrestle with darkness. Liverpool’s Hushtones open their upcoming sophomore album Wildflowers in the Mystery with this radiant song about standing beside someone in the midst of their unraveling. It’s about watching someone you love struggle, knowing you can’t fix it for them, and choosing to stay close anyway. “Keep this in your pocket / Keep this close to your heart / I’m not your doctor / I’m just your friend,” Martha Goddard sings, her voice earnest and inviting. It’s warm, heartfelt, and deeply human – a tender moment of presence and patience, delivered with a sparkling, harmony-rich glow.

Keep this in your pocket
Keep this close to your heart
I’m not your doctor
I’m just your friend
And I want to make it all fine
I know you love the sunshine
And it’s a practice
It’s a practice alright

It’s no surprise
They’ve cut you down to size
You fall only to rise
Step into the light
Picking up the fragments of your mind

“We wrote this song a bit differently to the rest of the songs on the album,” Goddard tells Atwood Magazine. “I came up with the initial guitar rhythm and riff and thought it could be something. I wrote the first verse and the second verse and made a basic demo on logic. I couldn’t immediately think of what the chorus should be so I sent it to Mick (Campbell, Hushtones’ co-frontman), and he totally understood what I was trying to say. He filled in the gaps and wrote the chorus and middle 8 section. At that point we brought it to the band who lifted the song to where it is now!”

Glorious, layered, and perfectly executed vocal harmonies add a refreshingly bright glow to what is, at its core, already an exceptionally warm and wondrous song. It’s a stunning reintroduction to Hushtones for those in need, and an all too perfect way to set the tone for all that’s to come.

Are you ok?
Are you okay with just fine
Are you alright
Or are you wasting your time?
I want to give
I want to give you something
I want to lie
I want to lie it’s alright

It’s no surprise
They’ve cut you down to size
You fall only to rise
Step into the light
Picking up the fragments of your mind

“We wanted to start the album with something vibrant and fresh, even with its darker meaning,” the band shares. “We thought this song encapsulated the overall sound of the band well and was a nice place to begin.” Built on a foundation of urgency and instinct, “Fragments” was the first song written for this new chapter – and it set everything else in motion. “Martha had started a song (just two verses) about helping a friend,” Campbell recalls. “I picked it up and instantly connected with the message… it just clicked. That urgency pushed us creatively. I really believe our best work happens when we don’t have time to overthink it.”

That spark is audible in every bar – from their soaring harmonies and sunburst guitars to the push-pull interplay of Goddard and Campbell’s vocals, a hallmark of Hushtones’ sound. “It’s no surprise / They’ve cut you down to size / You fall only to rise…” they sing together, pulling the listener into a story of quiet resilience and hard-won hope. “Fragments” is spirited, seductive indie pop that gleams and glows with feeling – full of fire and sweetness, heartbreak and grace.

Just like before
Behind your eyes
There’s something more
The wheels are turning
You’re burning out
There’s a silver line on every cloud

Comprised of Goddard, Campbell, Caitlin McPaul (bass and backing vocals), Joe Dillon (guitar and backing vocals), and Abraham Tesfachristos (drums) Hushtones have been actively spinning thoughts and feelings into musical gold for five years running. They self-describe as a guitar driven, vocal harmony focused indie band, and released their debut album Greetings From the Other Side in 2020. “We have all spent a lot of time in monotonous full-time jobs and we use music as an escape from this and a source of joy and passion,” they say. “A lot of our songs touch on this juxtaposition of wanting to be free and creative, but feeling trapped. We are basically five friends who love playing music together, and we hope people enjoy listening to it!”

That honesty comes through in every detail of “Fragments,” a song that feels like a hand on your shoulder and a burst of sunlight through the clouds. It’s the beginning of something special, and the start of what promises to be a transformative year for this Liverpool band.

ROLE MODEL’s “Sally, When the Wine Runs Out” has been soundtracking my summer ever since I stumbled on it – which, yes, was months after it released, but good songs don’t come with expiration dates. The viral highlight off the deluxe edition of his sophomore album Kansas Anymore, “Sally…” hits like a golden hour daydream: It’s glistening, groovy, laid-back and lovesick – a feel-good swirl of late-night confessions and early morning regrets, bottled into three-and-a-half minutes of shimmering, smile-inducing indie pop. From the first listen, it felt like a classic. Like summer, distilled into song.

Well, I met Sally at a late-night dive bar
She don’t dance, but she downs her drinks
Heard through a friend she’s a born-again wildcard
She was telling me wild things
Oh, she was telling me wild things

Lives down the street, past the 7-Eleven
Just close enough that I spent the night
She grabbed my hand at the intersection
I spilled my guts at the red light

ROLE MODEL – the moniker of singer/songwriter Tucker Pillsbury – has always thrived in the intersection of charm and ache, and “Sally…” is no exception. “Sally! That feeling’s coming around / Please don’t go falling in love / Then disappear when the wine runs out,” he pleads in the chorus, his voice soft and sticky with hope. The song teeters between vulnerability and swagger, between smooth flirtation and emotional freefall. It’s bright and catchy on the surface, but underneath it’s an anxious love letter written in real time – part warning, part wishful thinking.

Sally
That feeling’s coming around
Please don’t go falling in love
Then disappear when the wine runs out
Sally
I’ll buy a couple of rounds
Don’t let me think I’m enough
Then disappear when the wine runs out

“Aw, shit, here we go again, I’m falling headfirst…” he admits in the bridge, and that’s exactly what “Sally” invites us to do. The production – helmed by Noah Conrad – leans into clean guitars, easy grooves, and dreamy textures that mask the chaos of feelings in flux. There’s something playfully reckless about the whole thing, like the kind of night you know won’t end well, but you live for anyway. It’s a vibe. A reverie. A late-night conversation under neon lights that turns into a memory before you’ve even left the bar.

Aw, shit, here we go again
I’m falling headfirst
Ankles hit the two-step,
Sally makes my head hurt
Heard through the grapevine,
she can be a diva
Cold like Minnesota,
hotter than a fever (Hey)

Sally (Hey)
That feeling’s coming around (Ah-ah, ah)
Please don’t go falling in love (Oh)
Then disappear when the wine runs out (Hey)
Sally
I’ll buy a couple of rounds (I’ll buy a couple)
Don’t let me think I’m enough
Then disappear when the wine runs out

Whether you found this track on Valentine’s Day or somewhere along the way, “Sally, When the Wine Runs Out” feels like a standout from a record already packed with emotional hits. It’s seductive, silly, and sneakily heartbreaking – everything that makes ROLE MODEL such a thrill to listen to. Sally may or may not disappear when the wine runs out, but this song? It’s staying on rotation.

At once blistering and beautiful, “Crystal” isn’t just a standout on Adult Mom’s Natural Causes – it’s the song that stopped me in my tracks. Breathtaking, feverish, and roaring with emotional intensity, the fourth track on the indie rock band’s latest album is an aching portrait of self-denial and the slow, painful process of self-recognition. You can feel the heartbreak in every line, the tight-lipped tension between truth and repression. It’s raw and radiant, steeped in banjos and overdriven guitars, fragility and fury – the sound of someone trying to outrun their own reflection, and failing.

Driving home in your little blue car
You turn the corner and you pull off
Cut the engine before the seatbelt clicks out
And I answer your call

I am living in crystal, two way glass
I can see myself but you cannot see me back
And you sit at a long brown conference table
Determine if I’ll fill what you lack

Written about a relationship that existed before Adult Mom’s frontperson Stevie Knipe came out, this song captures the dissonance of being seen and not truly known – of living a life that isn’t yours, even as your truth pulses under the surface. “‘Crystal’ is written from the perspective of feeling trapped while still being seen in a distorted way,” they share. “It’s about knowing yourself but not being ready to face it.”

That tension builds in waves: “I am living in crystal, two way glass / I can see myself but you cannot see me back.” It’s a gut-punch lyric, as charged as it is churning, delivered with a mix of passion and deep-seated pain.

I’ve been stomach sick lately
I fantasize greatly
Of passing out in a public space
And the ambulance comes in
They call the next of kin
It’s months before I wake
And by then everything is okay

The song unravels with a kind of furious tenderness – banjo plucks and guitar noise rising around a voice that never wavers, even when it’s breaking. Adult Mom have always told the truth, but on Natural Causes, they’re screaming it. As Knipe reflects, “Thematically, I got more comfortable with getting darker. I knew there were things I wanted to explore that I didn’t get to on Driver, like the traumatic side of trying to unravel all this learned straightness. There were things happening interpersonally where I was like, OK, now I need to really tackle the tough parts of this process.” “Crystal” is one of those moments – both confession and confrontation, as beautiful as it is brutal.

You look hard at me when you say
“You don’t love me, but you better stay”
I tell you I’m sorry, I’ll shield my eyes
The next time the pretty girls pass me by

I am living in crystal, two way glass
I can see myself but you cannot see me back
And I sit at a long brown conference table
Determine if it’s worth it just to pass

In just under four minutes, “Crystal” holds a mirror to the past and dares you not to look away. It’s an anthem of reckoning, of rage, of finally cracking through the glass. And when it’s over, you feel the heat of that breakthrough – burning, but real.

I’ve been stomach sick lately
I fantasize greatly
Of passing out in a public place
And the ambulance comes in
They call the next of kin
It’s months before I wake
And by then everything is okay

I wait in line for a better time
Breaking the glass comes with bad luck
But it eventually will pass
‘Til then I’ll try to find safety behind, it’s not you
I need someone who’s more kind

Paramore’s Zac Farro has always had a gift for feeling – for translating heavy things into something light and breathable, like letting pain evaporate in the sun. “My My,” his first-ever solo release under his own name and the dreamy, sun-soaked fourth track off his brand new album Operator, is a golden reverie – sweet and sad in the same breath. It’s the kind of song you want to hear with your feet in the water and your eyes half-closed, feeling everything and nothing all at once. Very Laurel Canyon, very California. Very summer.

Time has turned around another table
You can only do what you are able

Oh, my my, my my
If I could take your pain away
Oh, my my, it’s in your eyes
If I could take it all away
Oh, my my, my my
If I could take your pain away
Oh, my my, it’s in your eyes

“‘My My’ is a personal song about witnessing a loved one try to let go of someone they care for deeply. That kind of silent pain,” Farro shares. “This song holds a lot of weight and captures those moments of reflection and processing that run throughout the album.” That tenderness radiates through the song’s lilting melodies and subtle ache – especially in the chorus, where his voice folds gently over itself like a whispered prayer: “Oh, my my, my my / If I could take your pain away…”

There’s a softness to this song that never veers into fragility. It feels lived-in, patient, and glowing – a quiet kind of care made musical. Farro’s production lets the track drift and sparkle like light on water, letting its emotions breathe without ever pushing too hard. You don’t need to know who he’s singing about to feel the depth of love and helplessness in every word.

“My My” might be one of the quietest moments on Operator, but it’s also one of the most powerful – a reminder that the gentlest songs can sometimes hold the most weight. It’s an offering, a comfort, a quiet reckoning. One you’ll want to return to every time the sun sets just right.

And when the memories awaken
Then the heart continues breaking

Oh, my my, my my
If I could take your pain away
Oh, my my, it’s in your eyes
If I could take it all away
Oh, my my, my my
If I could take your pain away
Oh, my my, it’s in your eyes

fanclubwallet’s “Cotton Mouth” glows like a match about to burn out – soft and steady with a sharp, undeniable heat beneath the surface. The latest from fanclubwallet is a dreamy haze of fire and fervor, all pulsing drums and glowing guitars burning into a subdued tempest. It’s the sound of someone barely holding it together, delivered with Hannah Judge’s signature cocktail of charm, melancholy, and that just-right kind of fuzz. The Ottawa-based multi-hyphenate (cartoonist, singer/songwriter, and label founder) has built a distinctive sound in fanclubwallet that’s soft and loud at once – full of spark and bite, but still glittering with gentleness.

Everyone is wondering when i’m gonna do
The next best thing for them
But what’s the next best thing for you?
I’ve got cotton in my mouth
I can’t seem to get it out
Oh no

If you asked me how I felt yesterday
Well I wouldn’t know
But I know every days the same
I’ve got cotton in my mouth
I don’t wanna spit it out
Oh no

Written while sick and deep in a slump, “Cotton Mouth” came close to never happening at all. “I couldn’t move forward but couldn’t move backwards either,” Judge shares. “When we made it, it was the first song I’d been able to write in a long long time and I almost gave up, but [my co-writer] Michael [Watson] stopped me and made me keep going and I’m so glad they did!” The result is a track that feels like a sigh and a scream wrapped into one – radiant and restless, tangled up in expectations, uncertainty, and the weight of just trying to get through it all.

I sunk into the living room chair
Now everybodys looking at me
Everybodys there

She’s got cotton in her mouth
She can’t seem to get it out
Oh no

“Those were better times / But were they better at all?” Judge sings, wading through nostalgia with a skeptical eye. Her voice is clear but cracked, floating above a sparkling, champagne-fizz production of bubbling synths, guitar haze, and soft-driving drums courtesy of co-writer and producer Michael Watson. “Cotton Mouth” is indie pop at its most deceptively urgent – catchy and cool on the surface, emotionally gutting underneath.

Everything about this song feels uniquely (and unapologetically) fanclubwallet – the textures, the tension, the off-kilter sweetness and brutal self-awareness. “Cotton Mouth” doesn’t offer easy answers, but it makes space for the kind of messy, tangled honesty that helps you feel a little less alone. It’s a quiet triumph from an artist who continues to shine by saying exactly what she means – no matter how hard it is to get the words out.

Those were better times
But were they better at all?
Now everything’s so similar
I don’t know what to call it

When there’s cotton in your mouth
You just wanna spit it out
Oh no

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