Some heartbreaks sound like silence while others ride back in with a grin. HRVY Dent’s “High Horse” opens with gentle folk-country guitar chords, setting the stage for a story of love lost and lessons learned. But don’t mistake the melody for misery; this is heartbreak with a pulse.

“I told her that I love her, she said that it’s okay.” That’s the turning point. As soon as the line lands, producer Nick Nash drops the bass in, lifting the energy like a cowboy refusing to sulk. It’s the sonic embodiment of getting back on your high horse, that moment when heartbreak meets hope and you realize healing might just sound like 808s and open roads.

Detroit has a long history of birthing artists whose voices carry both grit and soul, from Slum Village to Dej Loaf, Dwele to Danny Brown. Junii is the next to emerge from that lineage, carving her own space with music that thrives in vulnerability and raw honesty. She reminds me of artists like Smino, Doechii, Samara Cyn, and even flashes of Doja Cat, but there’s a texture in her sound that makes her stand entirely on her own.

Jill Scott’s debut turned 25 years old today, and we celebrated with the second installment of our Music Nerds vinyl listening experience.

For 80 minutes, the room swayed with head nods and two-steps, quiet mm-hmms, a little karaoke, and the kind of deep sighs that come when you feel seen as Who Is Jill Scott? Words and Sounds Vol. 1 spun front to back at the Association for Creative Enlightenment.

As each track rolled in, so did the reflections. We talked about how Jill didn’t just sing, she spoke. About the way she fused poetry and melody. How her jazz-like phrasing stretched words into moments. How the go-go rhythms and live instrumentation gave her space to breathe and testify. And how “I Think It’s Better” might be one of the greatest transitions into a love song ever. (Okay, that one might just be me.)

It’s been 25 years since Jill Scott asked us a question that still lingers in the air like incense, Who is Jill Scott? And somehow, even after all this time, the album still feels like both an introduction and an invitation into Jill’s sonic journal pages lined with love, longing, and liberation.

It’s been ten years since The Internet’s Ego Death dropped, a timeless, Grammy-nominated album that hinted at transformation. And transform it did. For the group, for the sound of alternative R&B, and for a generation of music lovers navigating love, identity, and the vulnerability of existing both online and in real life.

Our Ego Death 10-year anniversary celebrations started on June 13th thanks to DJ Chef Dro, the creator of Music Nerds and the curator of the vinyl listening experience, and Thanks for Listening record shop in Virginia Beach. I had the honor of co-hosting alongside her, and together we guided the conversation, shared reflections, created space for the community to connect, and the energy in the room was truly unmatched.

Hearing the album on vinyl just hit different. The instrumentation felt warmer, fuller, more alive. As the needle dropped on each side, we vibed out, fully immersed in the layers of sound that made Ego Death so special. What started as subtle head nods and quiet sways turned into full-on karaoke, with folks singing their favorite lyrics like we were at The Internet concert 10 years ago.