Welcome to The SALSA Weekly! The SALSA Weekly is a curated playlist/post on the blog, wherein members of SALSA will submit one song they have been digging the past week and why.

The List

For your listening pleasure, here are our picks in one handy dandy Spotify playlist. Scroll down for what we have to say!


Amdusias: St. Vincent — Los Ageless

I’ve actually pretty much slept on St. Vincent’s music; lots of people told me she’d be my kind of thing, but over a bunch of listens, nothing really stuck. Knowing that, I still decided to check out MASSEDUCTION, her newest record, because it was getting a lot of buzz and positive reviews.

It’s SO GOOD.

Proxy and I somewhat agree that we really enjoy when people dunk on LA (I as a contractually-obligated NorCal resident, them as someone who just hates its culture), and this is an excellent LA dunk. It’s also an excellent song in general, and I’m a lot more apt to check out her next project after this immediately instead of just going “ehhhhhh” for months.

Found on: Spot Vincent

Proxy: Mitski — Goodbye, My Danish Sweetheart

Mitski is an artist I’m obsessed with that I do not often talk about, but they’re one of the few artists that can elicit a giddy reaction in me. I’ve legitimately loved every single record she’s made so far, with a talent for compelling internal songwriting without being navelgazey and a lot of good compositional difference in her work accompanied by a fantastic voice. ‘Puberty 2’ is one of my favourite records of last year, with “Your Best American Girl” being my absolute jam of the year. But we’re not here to talk about that record today! We’re here to talk about her second record ‘Retired from Sad, New Career in BUsiness’. Or rather, the first track from it.

“Goodbye, My Danish Sweetheart” is a breakup song about being on the receiving end of a breakup, about eventually making the realization that you actually were in love with the person you were dating after it’s all over. It’s shockingly mature, with lyrics that accept how she was at fault for being distant, but pleading for her partner to not hold any bitterness: “And I don’t blame you if you want to // Bury me in your memory, I’m not the girl I ought to be, but // Maybe when you tell your friends, you // Can tell them what you saw in me, and not the way I am”

The off-kilter arpeggiated guitar melody adds a lot to the accepting melancholy of the situation, and I love how active and confidently flightly the vocals are during the chorus. The gradual buildup of expanded instrumentation and modulation fit the mood she’s going for. It’s such a solid track, and i’ve specifically had the exact progression of the vocal melody stuck in my head all week. I’ll be thinking about it again for a long time, an ideal version of this song buried in my memory.

Found on: The source that you ought to see, not what it turned out to be.

Makyo: Zammuto — It Can Feel So Good

GLaDOS, Backed By The Blue Man Group, Sings About Your Heart Pumping Blood And It’s Not Creepy At All.

Found on: The SALSA Enrichment Center reminds you that Spotify hell is a real place where you will be sent at the first sign of defiance

Lorxus: Jamie xx — Just Saying

In the lightless crushing depths, illumined in stygian blue, still it turns restlessly and dreams and mourns for the sun.

Found on: Suspended, as in heavy syrup, in a bubble of endless hyperbolic space

Lu: Stars — Fluorescent Lights

There is a melancholy to Stars’ power pop that acts like a siren song to me. They have managed, magically, to marry this excessively cinematic, airy, utterly danceable music style with lyrics that are not sad, per se, but filled with the small joys and small losses that falling in and out of love brings. It’s very human-centric pop music, eschewing massive gestures of undying love. “Fluorescent Lights”, by its chorus, is about how it’s easier to fall in love in a darkened room, having fun, dancing; all the song surrounding the chorus, though, is about the fact that that might be our narrators’ only chance to ever feel connection, that they will pass from each other soon after and maybe never talk again.

It’s sad, but it’s beautiful. It’s upbeat, and complicated. Stars is worth a lot of your time.

Found on: The 2020 Spotlympics

Alteq: The Mountain Goats —— Amy aka Spent Gladiator 1

In the last few years I’ve delved more and more into The Mountain Goats, and I’m so glad I did. This isn’t their best song, but it’s one I return to a lot.

Found on: And the dish ran away with the Spoot