Tiny Desk Contest Our search for the next great undiscovered artist to play a Tiny Desk concert.
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Tiny Desk Contest

Our search for the next great undiscovered artist to play a Tiny Desk concert
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Hometown: Nashville, Tenn.

Pairs well with: Pressing flowers; changing seasons

On "Wilted," singer-guitarist Katie Domschke reflects on a love that's wilted like plants in a neglected greenhouse. "Do you feel it getting colder the further / We are from the sun?" she asks, her voice strong, consoling and conversational. In the video, four band members — Domschke, Geoffrey Mutchnik, Peter Vance and Max Hewett — perform where two staircases meet, each artist's talents coming into focus as the song progresses. The group's catchy "oohs" and "aahs" back Domschke's melody on one verse; they finish her sentences in the next. "Words we," Domschke begins, "Buried under," the band interjects; "Crowded," Domschke continues, "Lonely garden," the band responds. "Wilted" is like a comforting friend there to help soak up a melancholy feeling.

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Hometown: Los Angeles, Calif.

Pairs well with: Driving by your old school and wondering what could have been

"You made me feel like a criminal / I was a kid," Figgy Baby raps to an old teacher, the song's namesake, who had expelled them for marijuana charges when they were in 8th grade. This Contest entry, "Mr. Baron," is a reflection on this common experience and how it uprooted their life at such a young age, enwrapping unresolved resentment and self-awareness with a greater message about drug culture, all while exuding childlike joy. Figgy Baby's energy here is motivated at least in part by the fact that, while years and laws have passed, not much has changed. People, kids like he was, can still be harshly punished for marjuana possession. With a sly smile on their face, Figgy shares that "you can tell Mr. Baron I'm still smoking," before going on to thank the ones that did protect them. Figgy Baby's commentary takes center stage in this performance, only accompanied by a light drum beat, slipping keys and dusted harmonies.

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Hometown: Cleveland, Ohio

Pairs well with: Skimming the SparkNotes page for The Phenomenology of Spirit

From a slightly too-crowded room, weighted blnkt offers a cozy anthem to all the enigmatic crushes I had in college – though the group skips the all-black outfits, we do get a taste of the self-seriousness that can stem from reading too much Kant, as McCooey calls out "out into the snow / midnight repose / wandering through prose I used to espouse." But with Gatton's ad libs about Duke Deuce and childhood friends and the hazy feel of "sigma male anthem" takes a more tongue-in-cheek approach to insufferableness. Even as they sing of solitude, weighted blnkt's homespun style gives its music a sense of warmth that encourages us to stick around.

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Hometown: Nashville, Tenn.

Pairs well with: Choosing to not be the bigger person

Being bitter is frowned upon more often than not, but in this entry Jordan Lindley's animosity is the central wheel spinning this sneering song about getting left by an ex. Accompanied by a simple, strummed guitar pattern, "Dust" shines a light on all of the dark, negative and very human emotions that occur during the stages of a breakup. (Especially if you thought they would be The One™.) "Don't be kind enough to leave me / I'm so in love, I don't need you to love me / Don't go, rent's cheaper the longer we're in it / You'll regret it / Maybe you won't," Lindley sings, timid. In its last verse the song shifts from a fragile outpour of denial and desperation to disconcerting spite and revenge, as Lindley dreams of when his ex comes crawling back. "When you get close / I'll be a mouse trap / Disintegrate you / You deserve that / I can't wait."

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Hometown: Brooklyn, N.Y.

Pairs well with: Playing darts at the dive bar

The ability to put on a powerful performance in a small space is key to any great Tiny Desk concert – and A Very Special Episode has it down. The trio of self-described "NYC noise rockers'' told us it recorded its Tiny Desk Contest entry at a desk under the band members' office bed. In the video, guitarist Patrick Porter and drummer Chayse Schutter create a behemoth of sound that washes over the room. And like a new sheriff in town, bassist-singer Kasey Heisler steps into that dusty desert of sound, lavishly rhyming "mystery," "masculinity" and "toxicity" while plotting the demise of a no-good cowboy.

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Hometown: San Juan, Puerto Rico

Pairs well with: Laying in the park and looking up at the clouds

The Supa Crew, led by vocalist Luis Anchondo, exudes effortless confidence and craft. The group's Contest entry, "I Don't Wanna Wait," captures the feeling of floating away, the desire to escape to a lighter place and not come down any time soon. The song ebbs and flows from ethereal to jam to jazz, linked together by dreamy guitar solos and Anchondo's guiding voice. There are so many charming moments in this performance, from the recorder played at the beginning to Achondo's barefoot dancing to the scatting solos and percussion breakdowns. "I don't wanna wait, another moment in time," Achondo sings — The Supa Crew certainly isn't wasting any time.

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Hometown: San Juan, Puerto Rico

Pairs well with: Watering your plants in your dream house

With a spare and sweet acoustic guitar behind his voice, first-time Conest entrant Celso Garayúa describes expansive love: an idyllic house on the beach. The imagery is palpable here – palm trees swaying in the air, the hypnotizing sensuality of ocean tides, the dreamstate of drinking coffee by a window that overlooks the sea, with each chorus asking: "Who gave you this light?"

Surrounded by four white walls in a small courtyard with a few tropical plants, a big antique desk and natural light pouring in, it's as if for his video Garayúa actually went to the place his heart had imagined. Turns out it's not a far stretch from where he actually is – on an island filled with natural beauty (that we were happy to welcome to this year's Contest), Puerto Rico.

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Hometown: New York, N.Y.

Pairs well with: Tears blurring diary pages

Jack Braun, the singer-songwriter who performs as Jackfruit, opens their Tiny Desk Contest entry narrating an act of defiance: "I asked you to grow your hair out / So you slept with a girl from your book club," they sing. "Lou" was inspired by Lou Sullivan, the gay and transgender author and activist who died from AIDS-related complications. "If I can't live like you / I'll die like you instead," Braun repeats achingly over melancholy chords. Braun told us they wrote the song as a final project for a school class – but even without the educational context, it's easy to feel moved by the tender songwriting of "Lou." "I tried to grow a beard / You said it didn't look right," Braun sings, their raspy, gorgeous voice breaking with emotion. "Don't you think I know?"

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Hometown: Philadelphia, Pa.

Pairs well with: Brutal honesty

"Tromping the Duck" is an angsty ode to not giving a f***. The Lunar Year's 2022 Contest entry is cleverly filmed in a bathroom, with bassist Erik Kramer in the shower, drummer Adam Shumski on the toilet and guitarist-singer Katie Hackett in the bathtub. The song builds slowly, with Hackett's intense and powerful lower register, Shumski's steady beating of the bass drum and Kramer's fervent plucking. "Tromping the Duck" is about looking out for yourself, evident in the repeated lyrics: "No one's gonna have me / No one's gonna get mine / No one's gonna have me / I just look out for myself." Culminating with the simultaneous screams of all three band members, the song ends in the most fitting way — with a flush of the toilet.

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Hometown: Atlanta, Ga.

Pairs well with: Gratitude

Yah Yah's "All Bad" reminds us of how the best is ahead, even when the grind of everyday has us reaching our breaking point. "Cuz I got bills on bills, so much money to make / I got generational curses that I can't break / too much pressure on me, too much I don't wanna change." Yah Yah sits on top of a desk, wearing and surrounded by grounding hues of green. Her smooth vocals are backed behind a soulful, guitar-filled R&B groove, drums that knock and lush synths, locked in by The 442 Band. "I try to tell myself that it ain't all bad," she sings through the chorus.

Just when I thought this entry couldn't get any better, the white telephone begins to ring with, guess, a perfectly timed spam call asking about her vehicle's "extended warranty." Yah Yah responds: "I already got enough bills, I don't need you calling me about ones that don't exist, damn," before diving right back into the groove. Perhaps my favorite part of the entry because I know I can't be the only one who receives at least 10 of those calls a day. Towards the end, rapper KaliPop delivers a playful, melodious verse that drives Yah Yah's melody and message home: "Give your worries up to God, you'll be glad you ain't stop." Amen to that.

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Hometown: Chicago, Ill.

Pairs well with: Looking at old family photo albums

"There's nothing in this whole world that you can't do / You're so much stronger than anything life throws you / So even when the storm won't seem to pass through, just sing this tune." Though I don't know for sure who or what they're about, I hear these words and imagine a father's love letter to a newborn daughter, a mantra of affirmations she can return to someday to be reminded who she is. Wallace Tallman's whispery crooning is transportive and cathartic, and when he sings the refrain — "Remember that you are Cecilia June" — for the final time, the feeling is like a satisfied painter reveling in the glory of a completed canvas. It's a muted, lullaby-like performance, just a few simple guitar chords played to a blurry camera lens, but it brought me to tears.

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Hometown: St. Louis, Mo.

Pairs well with: A victory lap

LouTribe Jigg raps with an effortless flow reminiscent of André 3000. In his Tiny Desk Contest entry, Jigg nods to his hometown pride, sporting a St. Louis Cardinals windbreaker as he repeats, "running through the hood like fee fi 314-fum," and weaves in clever wordplay, rhyming "all these itty bitty spiders always trying to doubt 'em / then I see 'em climbing up and I water spout 'em." When Jigg does take a breath to slow down, his lyrics are just as satisfying: "I told 'em before I'm just a man of understanding / who can't stand under no man / I am what I am and what I think about expands / Manifesting my future into the palm of my hands / Who am I?," he asks. But when DJ Domo picks up the beat again, Jigg stifles a smile and raps with the assuredness of an artist who knows just who he is and where he's going.

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Hometown: Brooklyn, N.Y.

Pairs well with: Journaling about your past, pondering about your future

Marcus Jade's entry is recorded with such intimacy that you almost feel like you're invading his space, witnessing a private performance that wasn't meant to be shared – and we're grateful it was. "Legs and Bones" opens with an enchanting guitar melody, as he sets the scene — "tell me how does it feel, to live in the same place you grew up in?" Jade's voice carries such a unique richness and tone, cutting and projecting through the small Brooklyn bedroom like it's a concert hall. He reflects on a strained relationship with his hometown in a spilling stream-of-consciousness – even so, the coherence of Jade's performance makes it surprising to hear this Tiny Desk Entry was made "real quick," as if it was a lark in his day.

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Hometown: Vallejo, Calif.

Pairs well with: Your journey to the other side

With an opening closeup shot of skulls and a droning guitar riff eventually accompanied by teasing snare, Mother Muerte carefully and eerily sets the tone for the mystical journey the band is about to take you on. A slow widening shot opens up the frame as, finally, the masked faces of our guides are revealed, and we see the skulls occupying what looks like a tiny-desk-as-ofrenda setup.

"Al Mas Allá" ("To The Beyond") is Chelsea Rose Sanaloa and Jose R Cadena's psychedelic invocation of the "sombra en el cielo" ("shadow in the sky") that takes us to the afterlife. It's a slow build, backed by the entrancing guitar riff throughout the song, until Sanaloa goes full-on Grace Slick at the end of "White Rabbit" in her final wailing, her biggest offering to the forces on the other side.

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Hometown: Lexington, Ky.

Pairs well with: Feeling high lonesome

With the melancholy wail of the fiddle and the catch of Caleb Bailey's voice, "White Knuckle, Black Lung" paints a portrait of a man whose hurt can't be hidden. Explaining that "Paw never fought in the army / But he was always at war," Bailey shares the isolation at the end of a lifetime of hard labor in the valley of tears. But rather than demand the healing of a sadness that might be too deep to fix, Caleb Bailey & The Bottom Dollars meet the man where he is. The band captures the heartache with empathy and grace, sharing in the sorrow as they sing: "Folgers in the mornin' / Bonded whiskey by night / Cough drops and Tylenol / Anything to help him get by."

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Hometown: Los Angeles, Calif.

Pairs well with: Preparing for a tough conversation with a loved one

"One, two, three, hey!" That's our spirited introduction to "Come Around," in which james the eighth sings passionately about being in a one-sided relationship. However it's happened to you, in romantic, platonic or familial love, the artist's therapeutic vocals vividly express the frustration of dealing with someone who only shows up when they need you: "See things from my point of view / All you do is let me down, 'cause you never come around." james the eighth's R&B-inspired vocals are filled with sultry falsettos and rich vibrato, and a simple arrangement — just a cajón drum, guitar and bass — envelops the melody in a blanket of soul. "Come Around" begins by laying out the addressee's pattern of neglect, and ends with a pretty firm solution: "Don't come around / Don't come knocking on my door." Or, in other words, keep that same energy.

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Hometown: San Francisco, Calif.

Pairs well with: Sitting down to start a new creative project

Rebirth Canal describes its entry as vocal jazz fusion, but there really isn't a box that can fit this performance. It's jazz, it's electronic, it's world, it's postmodern — but above all, it's surprising. The group's first Tiny Desk Contest submission, "AI," builds with craft and intrigue: Beginning with syncopated syllables chanted over a simple electronic beat, the seeming nonsense sounds invite the listener to linger and wonder. The performance ramps up as phrases begin to lock and loop into place, the camera panning to capture layering instruments. The EWI (electronic wind instrument) particularly stands out, tying genres together with a unique and memorable melody. The real showstopper, though, is the dog sitting contently in the middle of it all, absorbing the surrounding soundscape and making us wish we were there, too.

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Hometown: Los Angeles, Calif.

Pairs well with: The uncontrollable urge to dance

Latin jazz artist Yosmel Montejo's 2022 Contest entry opens with a sweet update since his 2021 entry: He's had a baby! Montejo says it's been three weeks since he's slept, but you can't tell from the band's high energy submission. Filmed in a garage, Montejo and band have more room to play and dance around than last year – and thank God for that, because "Como Suena" is impossible to listen to without moving your body to the beat. Take the time to listen to each band member's playing and be inspired by their technical brilliance, rhythmic flair and the joy radiating from them.

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Hometown: Boston, Mass.

Pairs well with: The first girls' night out after a bad breakup

Unapologetic is the word that comes to mind when listening to "Bring Me Back." In her Tiny Desk Contest entry, elishéva describes losing herself in a relationship: "Buried every little thought that didn't make him happy / 'cause I put him first," she sings in the grooviest way. From the bluesy instrumentals to the band snapping during a sultry bridge sung in French, this entry exudes How Stella Got Her Groove Back energy. Surrounded by colorful balloons, a confetti-covered cake and party hats, elishéva is not subscribing to the typical sad girl narrative: "Lost my way," she sings, "but now I'm coming back."

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Hometown: Los Angeles, Calif.

Pairs well with: Crying after the party

Jack Rabbit, the duo of Mo Donegan and Andy Leon, says "New Year's Eve" is about a forbidden high school crush – and its Tiny Desk Contest entry plays out like an epic love story, complete with queer yearning, heart-swelling melodies, a spectacular bridge and devastating regret. The video begins as Donegan and Leon's complementary voices tenderly recount the roots of a secret kinship. Then the band builds and the story fast-forwards five years, erupting with an avalanche of what-might-have-beens. "And we'd kiss bodies intertwined / Changed after that night / Trace the things I'd memorized / Finally get to call you mine," they sing with such a hopeful fervor that you almost believe they could rewrite history with a pen of pure will.

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Hometown: San Diego, Calif.

Pairs well with: Crying just because

This is Kimiko's first time entering the Tiny Desk Contest, but you'd never know it. Her demeanor is steady and effortlessly commanding, like her voice, and on "Hush and a Warning Sign," her pleading, siren-like vocals take us deep into her eerily beautiful thoughts. The lyrics feel like riddles, as if Kimiko was the only person meant to understand them – an intimate peek into her vulnerable mind. "But nothing ever really matters when you pretend you're something that you're not / And nothing really matters when you're hung up again on your own thoughts," she sings softly. Kimiko's performance proves you don't need to know the meaning of a song, you just need to feel it, and her entry conjures a full range of feelings: longing, frustration, sadness, passion.

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Hometown: Philadelphia, Pa.

Pairs well with: Pumping yourself up in your room before heading out

SNACKTIME PHILLY's Tiny Desk Contest entry opens with a classic party scene — glasses clinking, pizza boxes stacking, energy building. And within the first few seconds of the intro, you'll be wishing you got an invite to this party. "Gotta Get Funky" is a proposal — a command, really — and the group's high-energy performance makes the title an easy request. Juggling sophisticated solos, impassioned breakdowns and joyful lyrics, SNACKTIME PHILLY takes you on a wonderfully windy journey that never rests in one place too long. Good luck keeping up; this group is always a few steps ahead.