The essence of Peach Pit’s music is true to its name. It’s sweet, digestible, but with a melancholy undercurrent. After all, it’s not named after the fruit itself, but the part that’s left over after it’s been eaten.
A lot of the band’s songs carry a similar feeling – musings on the party after it’s over, lingering on an ex’s shampoo bottle left on the shelf after she’s long gone, hungover regrets. The newest album still has bittersweet notes, but Peach Pit feels more mellow than ever before.
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Jamal Vickers’ yoga series bridges music and mindfulness.
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A sequel five years in the making, the Toronto rapper reveals his evolving blueprint for connection.
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With a deconstructed reggaeton sound and a devil on her shoulder, the Montreal-based artist examines the dark side of vanity.