Listen: Prettiest Girl Of Heaven by Caroline Strickland

Originally hailing from Virginia, Caroline Strickland is a Brooklyn-based musician who focused on making music exploring the sense of self, self-actualisation, and ‘the tension between arrogance and tenderness’.

Prettiest Girl Of Heaven is the final single to be lifted from Strickland’s forthcoming EP, Martha’s Calling. The song sees Strickland perform the kind of rousing vocal that reminds me of Florence Welch, setting it against a slowly building crescendo of fuzzy, folky guitar and earthy instrumentation. Carefully overdubbed vocals create soft harmonies and a sense of self-compassion, those additional layers feeling like the support of a friend gently providing encouragement, as Strickland repeats the song’s title refrain to herself.

The song itself has a slightly complex origin story — an example of someone arguably saying the wrong thing, but it landing in a moment where it actually ends up helping the person it is said to. Caroline explains:

‘Prettiest Girl Of Heaven takes its namesake from a catcall I received walking east in Manhattan towards 2nd Avenue (in) Fall 2023. I had just left a shift at Madewell in SoHo. I was crying my eyes out. It was November (…) Walking with a wet cold face under scaffolding someone, some angel, yelled at me, “You are one of the PRETTIEST GIRLS OF HEAVEN!!!” I was struck with a white blade of light and love all at once, despite the misogyny of it all. It was as if this yeller brought me back to the present, where I suddenly had the strength to reckon with the fact I was alone, and most of my continued unhappiness was now a choice.’

The imperfect nature of the moment somehow created a moment of perfection for Strickland, being the thing she needed to re-centre herself and find what she needed to know at that moment. Just don’t take this as validation of misogynistic behaviour.

Check out Prettiest Girl Of Heaven below, and look out for Caroline Strickland’s forthcoming EP, Martha’s Calling, set for release on 7 March through Good Eye Records.

Listen: Love Me Harder by HunBjørn

With smooth-yet-android-like bleeps and analogue synth bass tones, HunBjørn’s latest single Love Me Harder opens with a cool, stripped back electronic aesthetic. Combining those with HunBjørn’s shimmering vocals serves to enhance her sense of humanity, but rather than appearing vulnerable amidst so much technology, she sounds augmented, emboldened, and enhanced by it. It is as though those synthesisers and drum patterns have adhered themselves to her skin, a form of cybernetic armour.

HunBjørn has spent the past year establishing a collection of songs tackling ‘sensitive dilemmas for a distinctly feminine perspective’. Love Me Harder arrives as a preview of her forthcoming album, The Digital Organic Life, targeted for release on 4 April. On the song, HunBjørn has chosen to depict the universal experience one has at the start of a romantic relationship. There is a point where you hesitate, waiting for a definitive signal from the other person, or alternatively build the determination and confidence to make the first move. Describing the song, HunBjørn says:

‘The song is about finding the courage to reveal yourself to someone else. It’s about the doubt and nervousness that arise when you start falling in love. You long to know if your feelings are reciprocated, but it takes bravery to speak up and expose yourself. Often, we need to push through our own insecurities to achieve the connection we desire.’

The writing and production of Love Me Harder were developed by HunBjørn herself, and the production work is a masterclass in understatement, slowly building to emphasise HunBjørn’s emotional state. Each section of the song introduces additional elements, like the complexity that comes with a deepening relationship. Additional synthesisers begin to pick out melodic refrains in the second verse, with the bridge out of the second chorus embracing a clutch of soaring acid synth stabs. As she lets loose, HunBjørn’s vocal vamping gives me goosebumps, unveiling the full extent of her feelings. It is a thrilling moment that sees the song unshackle itself from restraint, much like someone who has finally committed to telling the subject of their affection how they really feel.

Listen: HWYGO by Mins

As the year unfolds before us, a blank page of possibility and moderate anxiety, Natherlands musician Mins is here with his second release, and BlackPlastic’s first song of the 2025.

Opening with soft synths, muted guitars and an earnest falsetto vocal, HWYGO is restrained as it gradually builds to a drop, one-minute in, which sees propulsive percussion establish a sense of momentum. Mins’ vocal performance culminates in a distinctively hushed shout of the song’s titular reference, “How would you get out?”.

The escape portrayed here is in reference to moving on from relationships and people, as Mins describes:

‘HWYGO is a song about acceptance and goodbyes, letting things be how they are, and moving on. I have a hard time with not thinking about things too much, I spend too much time regretting and hoping and not living in the now. In this song, the main topic is about love, but it's applicable to every part of life.’

Mins is the musical pseudonym of Minne Bussemaker, who grew up in the countryside close to Amsterdam. Raised in an artistic family, by actors, Bussemaker was surrounded by creativity from a young age. Music was originally a side project, and in high school his focus shifted to basketball. Whilst he had the support of his family, and even travelled oversees to Dublin to further develop before going on to play college basketball in the US, unfortunately an injury led to Minne having to move on from basketball as a career. In the period that followed, he started to explore music production, initially in Garage Band, and after a period exploring law and then politics in education, Minne realised he wouldn’t be happy doing anything that didn’t involve music. Since then, he has been accepted into LIPA, the Liverpool Institute of Performing Arts, and whilst studying music, has launched his musical career as Mins.

At a time of year that is ripe with reflection and change, HWYGO feels particularly appropriate. I appreciate the soft-focus psychedelia in Mins’ production style and performance. Check it out below, and look out for Mins’ upcoming debut EP.

Listen: 7.5 Years by Sasha & The Bear

Having already appeared on BlackPlastic’s pages earlier this year and back in 2023, duo Sasha Daniel and Dov Igel are back again, sneaking in just before the hammer falls on 2024 with another introspective piece of melancholic pop.

On their new single, 7.5 Years, Sasha gives voice to the process of grieving that comes with a break-up, and the overwhelming sense of loss. As she lays out in the song’s chorus, the feeling of disconnection results in a painful experience of being lost and directionless… The anchors and plans associated with a long-term relationship suddenly removed, we are adrift, with the sense of a future unwritten. It is overwhelming, cold, and forbidding, the change yet to culminate in any kind of rebirth and possibility.

As is always the case with Sasha & The Bear, the pair have constructed a sophisticated alt-pop aesthetic that lends weight to their new single’s emotional message, without distracting from the feeling conveyed in the vocals and lyrics. There is a refined aesthetic to the sound here that I truly appreciate, as the song itself puts me right in the shoes of a person navigating the painful experience of an emotional severance.

Check out 7.5 Years below:

Listen: Xmas Sox by B. Miles

My holiday song vibe is generally on the more reflective end of the spectrum — Wizzard have their place, but I’m more likely to be quietly playing Joni Mitchell’s River, morosely exploring my sadness, at the happiest time of year. Christmas is a time to think about the connections that are important to us, but I also find myself thinking about those people that we don’t get to share the season with.

The new single from New York musician B. Miles, Xmas Sox, exists in that same headspace. Emotive, delicate vocals hang like baubles in a tree, as soft instrumentation casts a fairy-light-like cast across the song’s message of loss. Inspired by the most innocuous of objects, B. Miles finds herself looking back at a connection that exists in memory now, rather than a direct, living form. Describing the song, Miles says:

‘You know how certain objects can trigger a flood of memories? For me, it’s Christmas socks—specifically, my ex’s Christmas socks. While going through a breakup, I found something of an unlikely metaphor in those socks: they’re an item everyone has, but are often hidden, just like the emotions I kept buried about our relationship. There’s a certain romance in continuing to wear something that once held such comfort and charm, especially around the holidays, even as the meaning has shifted to something more somber.’

The experience of listening to Xmas Sox evokes the memories of those that stay with us in a myriad of tiny ways… Random objects, thoughts that come to mind when we hear about a specific movie, book or celebrity, or even when the clock hits a certain time of day. Not here with us physically, but in our minds. The song gradually builds to an instrumental outro, a layered guitar solo and soft, driving beat briefly flourishing, and then evaporating just like our memories and, sometimes, the connections themselves.

Having picked up coverage from Nylon and Refinery29, B. Miles has accumulated an impressive 28-million Spotify plays, whilst appearing at venues that include the Bowery Ballroom, in her hometown. Check out Xmas Sox below: