The obsession with biking through Toronto is a strange phenomenon I've noticed since moving here. Obviously it's also just a convenient (and eco-friendly) mode of transportation for some, but the off-handed recommendations from friends and acquaintances alike that I get a pair of wheels and fling myself into traffic have yet to cease. I'm from a small town, I grew up biking on rural roads; I'm an anxious person and almost get run over by Toronto drivers (and bikers) often enough as a pedestrian — which is all to say: I'm good, thanks.
But, on "Biking" — her first solo release since 2020 — Montreal singer-songwriter Daniela Andrade captures the feeling that I imagine everybody's raving about. "I'm terrified," she trills, drawing out the syllables with a sterling ease before remarking the paradox: "Somehow that feels good."
In the subtly splashy, reverb-drenched soundscape, Andrade repeats "I go, I go," in the background of the chorus, nearly an echoed onomatopoeic invitation into the cavern of her cycling experience. You can feel the wind on your face, the cinematic affect of what's coming through your headphones overtaking the whirr of car engines. In less than three minutes, "Biking" creates a fantastical, meditative bubble that maintains a grounded stasis amidst the forward momentum — understanding a particular type of freedom.