Not For Radio’s debut album “Melt” is a somber indie wonderland that explores the natural world, grief for a relationship and self-exploration.
Not For Radio is a new solo project for María Zardoya, the frontwoman of famed indie band “The Marías.” The band is known for wistful, romantic songs due in part to the lyrical work of Zardoya and the production work of drummer Josh Conway. The pair recently ended a lengthy romantic relationship, according to Rolling Stone — a conflict explored in their 2024 album “Submarine.” Despite their relationship ending, the band is still active — collaborating with popular artists like Selena Gomez and Benny Blanco, as well as performing at Coachella this year.
Zardoya commented on her musical exploration following the end of her relationship with Conway in an interview with Vogue and how this project was individual, unlike the music of the Marías, where the songs are a 50/50 split between Conway’s musical DNA and her own.
“Post breakup, I had so many questions. Who am I as an individual after a seven-year relationship? Who am I without the context of a relationship? That led me to the question of who I am musically without the context of this relationship,” Zardoya said.
The sound of Not For Radio isn’t a strong diversion from that of The Marías, but that doesn’t mean it’s not a valid solo endeavor. Despite her collaboration in production and lyrics for the album with Luca Buccellati and Sam Evian, the album feels like it stems from a singular voice. It echoes the words that live in your head through the moments of vocal repetition, floating behind tracks like “Water On Your Nose.” Zardoya is exploring herself and discovering her individuality, and she invites you to do the same.
I’ve been searching for an album that sounds like the gray Pittsburgh skies of fall, and “Melt” is that. The album made me feel alone — in a room with Zardoya’s thoughts echoing my own. Zardoya heavily employs strings through the album that contribute to the whimsical, dreamlike sound of her relationship grief, alongside her depressing yet ethereal soprano.
The album is watery and complex with its layers of synth and varying instrumentals, which further emphasize its moments of clarity. Zardoya’s simple groan of “Don’t go” in the album’s final track, “Slip,” is a plea that speaks to the album’s central questions of identity outside of a relationship. Is she simply telling the listener to stay with her for a few more tunes? Is she talking to her former lover and partner of seven years, the co-creator of her musical success? Or is she talking to herself — to the person she’s discovering outside of a relationship? These questions are left unanswered by the time “Slip” fades out, yet transcend beyond the album.
The tracks that stuck out the most to me were “Back To You,” “Puddles” and “My Turn.” “Back to You” calls upon the familiar feeling we all experience after ending a relationship, saying “Maybe in another life, I’ll be yours again / ‘Cause I tried to find a fallen star, and hope it brings me back to you.” Zardoya displays strength in guttural lyricism — it’s raw, it’s vulnerable and it’s hopeful, until the feeling is crushed by scratchy instrumentals. The background countermelody Zardoya adopts around the three-minute mark reminds me of a nursery rhyme, playing on her juvenile feelings of getting back to “you” — her former lover.
The lyricism of “Back to You” doesn’t exactly match that of “Puddles” — a lighter song that opens up the album. It sets the scene for the upside-down world Zardoya occupies throughout the album, diving down the rabbit hole of “Puddles and puddles / Walking in circles.” The song takes a darker, deeper shift before the final chorus visit, falling further into her world of whimsy until it turns harsher and more explorative. “Puddles” serves as a road map for the album, questioning different parts of Zardoya’s life after she leaves the reality of her relationship and returns to her own consciousness.
“My Turn” is formatted as a letter to “Daisy,” with Zardoya apologizing for everything she’s done wrong to Daisy and stating how she wants to be like her. The song has its moments of shock with the sharp insertion of instrumentals after the one-minute mark, and imitates the sound of what I imagine to be the end of a James Bond movie. The combination of Zardoya’s haunting and regretful lyrics contributes to the album’s wonderland-like setting, with a confrontational theme of change that doesn’t ever fully disappear.
Songs like “Not the Only One” and “Water On Your Nose” stuck out thanks to their interesting lyricism and repetition. I also appreciated the instrumentation of “Vueltas” to differentiate it from the rest of the album, and offer the listener a break into a new sound. For me, the album didn’t have any obvious skips — with intentional listening into Zardoya’s lyrics, everyone can find parts of themselves in this album.
I would encourage all Zardoya’s fans, alongside any avid indie music listeners, to dive into the masterpiece of “Melt.” Zardoya drags the listener into a whimsical, heartbreaking, dark and mystifying world of self-exploration after loss — a world I find intensely relatable.