Floating Between Certainty and Chaos

Myra Keyes’ “Foam” drifts in like a late-night thought you can’t quite shake—soft, glimmering, and strangely grounding. The Chicago-based artist’s latest single feels both effortless and intentional, shaped by a spirit of experimentation that’s become her quiet signature. There’s a confidence in how the song refuses to rush; each beat lands like it knows exactly where it needs to go, without ever announcing it.

Keyes’ sound sits somewhere between the cool restraint of Warpaint and the emotional candor of Elliott Smith, yet it’s unmistakably her own. The production—helmed by Scott Weddle and Matt Brown in a Portland studio that sounds as alive as the city itself—wraps her vocals in a hazy warmth, striking a balance between vulnerability and polish. The drums snap with understated precision, and the guitars shimmer with a kind of nostalgic melancholy that lingers long after the track fades.

What makes “Foam” so magnetic is its sense of self-awareness. Written during a period of restless transition, the song feels like a dialogue between motion and stillness, self-doubt and renewal. It’s the kind of track that grows on you quietly, revealing new corners of itself with each listen. With this release, Myra Keyes proves she’s not just finding her voice—she’s already speaking in one that’s unmistakably her own.