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Colombian musician, Eblis Álvarez, front man and songwriter for the Latin-electronic group, Meridian Brothers, is a scholar. Álvarez studies music and the cultures that birthed its different styles. He researches musical equipment as well as various existential philosophies. He’s as equipped to talk to you about the history of traditional cumbia music in his home city of Bogotá as he is talking about cognitive manipulation in modern day capitalism. In other words, Álvarez is an amalgam of interests and talents. Like its source, Álvarez’ music is much like a mosaic where disparate sounds connect with age-old cultures to create something new, interesting and challenging. And the artist will release his latest record, Cumbia Siglo XXI, which is full of quirky rhythms and masterful melodies, on August 21st.

Sometimes a life in music can be traced back to one important moment, a choice someone made or a word of advice someone passed along that they easily might not have. Such is the case for Philadelphia-born musician, G. Love (born Garrett Dutton), who began to play music and take guitar lessons at 8-years-old. But while countless kids have taken music lessons at that age, one of Love’s teachers could see something special in the young student and she encouraged him to start writing his own songs. While other teachers had him learning the basics of the Beatles, this one teacher said Love should write his own stuff. And without that moment, it’s unclear whether or not Love would have gone on to flourish in his successful career that continues to span the decades today.

For a moment, think of your favorite bands. The Beatles, Led Zeppelin, Heart, Bruno Mars, Salt-N-Pepa. While all of these groups comprise stellar musicians and creative minds, what brings them over the proverbial top for you, most likely, has nothing to do with musicianship, per sé. Often, our favorite tunes have less to do with the music and more with the people who make them. There is that unknowable chemistry – what the French call a certain Je ne sais quoi. But while the quality is hard to pinpoint, it’s not often hard to notice, in a general sense. And the Seattle rock band, Naked Giants, permeates that special element. For evidence, look no further than the band’s latest single, “The Shadow,” which we’re happy to premiere today.

For those that know, Valentine Recording Studios in Los Angeles is a special place. When the trio who comprise the band, L.A. Witch, first walked into the historic-yet-kitschy locale, they, too, understood its magic and mystique. The band, which recorded its latest record, Play With Fire, there, in the former 60s music hub, will release the new LP on Friday. The album, which is thick with the sound of vibrant guitars and propellant, buoyant rhythms, took on the character of the studio. So much so that one can almost hear the era-specific equipment and the spirits of past artists like The Beach Boys and Frank Zappa come through its driving songs.

When guitarist and songwriter, Malina Moye, first moved to California from Minneapolis to pursue her passion for music and performance, she had just $20 in her pocket. She washed up in gas stations. She slept in her car between the front and back seats with clothes covering her so no one would notice her face. These were the early days before the Billboard chart-topping record, Bad as I Wanna Be, and recent viral single, “Enough.” For Moye, it was a good thing then that she wasn’t seen there in her car. But she’s come a long way since then. Now people can’t help but notice Moye. And she’s using that newfound attention to help others gain the notoriety and consideration they deserve, too.

When, at eight-years-old, Alexander Glantz (aka Alexander 23) saw his father play guitar, he knew in his bones that he had to learn it, too. Watching his dad play and hearing the music emanate from the strings called to Glantz (“I had no choice,” he chuckles). Glantz signed up for lessons soon after but he hated those, so he began to play on his own. Glantz, then quickly realized an important personal truth. Music helped him with his strong emotions. More precisely, music helped him balance his nuanced, deep feelings while simultaneously creating a delivery system for them to other people. This dynamic is the core of Glantz’ creative superpower and the spark that’s resonated with his myriad fans around the world today.

Matt Quinn, frontman for the Americana rock band Mt. Joy, calls it a “flash memory.” He was just 10 years old when he ran up to his mother carrying a toy guitar. Even at a young age, the instrument was one of his prized possessions. Quinn played a song he’d written on it for her. She complimented him. He grinned.

But Quinn remembers another time much more vividly. He can recall that same toy guitar snapped in half, neck broken on the sofa. Some with weaker constitutions might have let that be the end of their careers, but not Quinn. He persevered. And now Mt. Joy is one of the rising — and most adaptable — groups in rock.

“I don’t know who sat on it and snapped it in half,” Quinn says with a laugh. “I can picture it now. It’s probably why we write a lot of sad songs now.”

Grammy-winning songwriter Bruce Hornsby grew up in a small southern town. In fact, he’s been there most of his whole life, and still calls the place – Williamsburg, VA – home. In the 70s and 80s, according to the artist, the region had a certain pervasive “narrow-minded” attitude. So, like any good songwriter, he wrote a song about it. That song was his first hit, “The Way It Is.”

Yet this was 1985, when its distinctive, piano-based sound didn’t seem to fit in the with popular music of the time, which included power-pop hits by Van Halen, Janet Jackson, Bon Jovi and Madonna. So the record companies didn’t get it at first, and it was rejected almost everywhere. Everywhere except RCA, that is, who signed Bruce Hornsby & The Range that year. “The Way It Is” was the first single and went to the top of the charts. It’s still the biggest hit he’s ever had.

Since then, though he had other hits such as “Mandolin Rain,” Hornsby has persisted in pushing boundaries – both sonic and social. That tendency continues today with the release of his latest LP, Non-Secure Connection.

When John Prine comes to see you play a show in Nashville, you know you’re onto something. Even for someone who has been singing since they could talk – as Cincinnati-based Country songwriter, Arlo McKinley, has – seeing one of the greatest songwriters to ever pluck a six-string and pen a verse in the audience is a one-of-a-kind moment. McKinley, who later signed to the now-late Prine’s Oh Boy Records label, will release his debut 10-track LP, Die Midwestern, on August 14th with the spirit of hall of famer in his heart.

“It was the first and only time I’ve been just star struck,” says the 40-year-old McKinley, recalling the performance. “It was a surreal moment knowing that he’s there to watch you do what you do. It means the world to me.”

For Scott Avett, co-founder of the wildly popular Americana band, The Avett Brothers, the unknown is not a scary thing. Looking into the metaphorical dark of the future does not worry him. Indeed, it’s the opposite. Avett finds the unknown beautiful, exciting. This realization, which he came to formally some time ago while playing music, was a life-changing one for the Grammy-nominated and celebrated artist. The lesson opened his eyes to the possibility of not simply technical expertise. Rather, it opened him up to his internal self more and that’s made all the difference for the musician, who, with his brother, Seth, will release the band’s latest album, The Gleam III, on Aug. 28.

“Plenty of times in my life,” Avett says, “I’ve been quite insecure about my musical abilities and my musical knowledge. But then somewhere along the way it dawned on me that, ‘Hey, this has nothing to do with that at all.’ So, since I don’t know what I’m doing, that’s all the more reason to do it and step into the unknown, which is what really makes art.”

If you ask Memphis musician, Tikyra Jackson, when she first became aware of music, when it initially entered her universe as a young person, she’ll say that she thinks she was simply born into it. Jackson, who comes from a musical family, was also raised in church. So, she’s been immersed in song, essentially, since the very beginning. But while Jackson isn’t the only person to have grown up singing in church, she did learn an important, singular lesson there. It’s an idea that applies to just about everything she does, including playing in her Grammy-nominated group, Southern Avenue, or recording her own compositions – like her pointed debut single, “No More Fear,” which we’re happy to premiere here today.

“I definitely feel that being exposed to music and church at such a young age,” Jackson says, “made me adjusted to becoming more vulnerable on stage. And when you’re vulnerable, you can allow the music or that energy to overtake you.”