Who’s Laughing Now? My New Mixtape Gets Uncomfortably Honest

Jarrett Nicolay—aka My New Mixtape—isn’t here to coddle. His latest single, “Who’s Your Daddy?” is a smirking Molotov cocktail lobbed into the echo chamber of American politics. Draped in eerie synths and gritty, stripped-down production, the track creeps in like a bad dream you can’t shake, and you shouldn’t want to.

Billed as “existential dread pop,” this one leans hard on the dread. It’s an open letter dressed as a dark anthem, directed straight at the red-hatted voter, and it doesn’t pull punches. Nicolay’s voice floats somewhere between weary disillusionment and sardonic glee, as he lays out biting questions—“Are you happy now?” lands like a slap, but it’s the repeated title line, “Who’s your daddy?” that drips with acidic irony.

The brilliance of the track lies in how it weaponizes catchiness. There’s an undeniable groove underneath the gloom, making it the kind of protest song that sneaks onto your playlist before you realize it’s calling out half your family at Thanksgiving.

It’s not trying to unify. It’s not trying to soothe. “Who’s Your Daddy?” is a barbed mirror held up to a divided America, and Nicolay wants you to take a good, hard look. Whether you laugh, wince, or nod along—you won’t forget it.

Floating in the Fog: Windows Finds Magic in the Stillness

Windows’ newest single, That’s When, is like stepping into a faded photograph—warm, wistful, and just a little haunted. Recorded at Rami Jaffee’s studio during the quiet ache of the pandemic, and brought to life by producer Rocco Guarino, the track hums with analog soul and late-night reflection.

Right from the first note, you feel it: a soft pulse that pulls you into a suspended moment, as if time forgot to tick. There’s something cinematic about the way the instruments melt into one another—gentle guitars, dreamy synths, and a rhythm section that doesn’t rush, but strolls through memory. It’s groove without ego, presence without noise.

Lyrically, That’s When doesn’t shout its truth—it sighs it. It leans in close and tells you about waiting, remembering, and maybe even healing. It’s a love song, or a lost moment, or a whisper to a younger self—you decide. That ambiguity? That’s the magic.

Windows has always played with nostalgia, but this one hits different. It doesn’t just sound retro; it feels timeless. It’s the kind of song you stumble upon at midnight, headphones in, wondering how it knew exactly what you were feeling.

Play it once. Then play it again. You’ll hear something new—because That’s When knows how to linger.