Bad News is the newest solo EP by Jeni Magaña, a Mexican American musician and photographer based in Los Angeles. Best known for her bass and backing vocal work with Mitski (including a performance on Mitski’s 2024 single), she has also played with Lady Lamb and is half of the pen pin pop duo with Emily Moore. Bad News arrived January 24 via Audio Antihero and marks Magaña’s third release in ten months, rounding out what she calls the “Teeth trilogy.”
Earlier in 2023, she returned from a three-year break in her Magana project with the Teeth LP, reunited with Audio Antihero—who had originally issued her Golden Tongue debut in 2016.
That record landed in March, timed to the peak illumination of the Worm Moon, and brought out a “Witchy Rock” atmosphere that wove acid folk, synth pop, and indie rock into one.
Later in October came Dreams, a multimedia release on the UK’s Hand Drawn Hand label, blending ambient electronic music, spoken word, and a photography book. Bad News offers a pivot to what Magaña playfully labels “cozy core” and “winter pop,” stripping away the heavier edges for a more bare singer-songwriter warmth. It echoes the spirit of her past approaches, but with even sharper attention to words and change.
Past publications have noted that “the sound of late-night emotional fragility writ large…Magaña’s parched vocal is a complete heartbreaker.”
There’s also been praise that “Magana wades through earth and space on Teeth,” and that “Teeth is a mosaic, with crunchy guitars, airy woodwinds, gorgeous strings, and synths that sound like they were summoned from a different dimension blending together beautifully.”
Others focused on her “staggering honesty and melodic ingenuity,” describing her style as “brutally vulnerable and beautifully breathtaking,” while also noting how it “feels equally at home in the era of doomy 60s girl pop and the modern age of dreampop and lushly-drawn indie music.” One final commentary framed Teeth as a shape-shifting blend of “acid folk, dream/alt-pop, and a touch of krautrock…Each song brings something new and vulnerable to the aching LP, a stunning representation of growth and self-discovery through the lens of a fever dream.”
Bad News extends that sense of layered identity but dials back on the rock and ambient layers.
Magaña calls it four vignettes, each living in different worlds. She’s complemented it with a special photo essay—her own images—intended to capture cinematic stills of characters grappling with personal struggles all at the same time.
“This photo project was especially fun to do for Bad News because I think of the EP as little vignettes into the lives of different characters around the world. I imagine it all happening at the same time, and that these are movie stills. I like this because it takes the narrow perspective of each of these individuals and lends it a broader perspective. Like, we might be going through something and at the same time the person across the restaurant is going through their own thing. I hope it reminds us to be kind to one another as much as possible,” Magaña says.
Bad News channels those “cozy core” and “winter pop” elements, layering gentle folk influences with hints of bedroom pop. Magaña names Sufjan Stevens, Sharon Van Etten, and St. Vincent as kindred spirits, and the new songs place her voice in a spacious, reflective atmosphere.
Each piece stands alone but forms a set of snapshots, underscoring the idea that many stories unfold at once. The complete photo essay pairs with these tracks, placing everyday feelings into cinematic frames.
Let’s dive into it.
“Half to Death”
A moment of nighttime dread and the fear of sudden loss shape this track. The narrator confronts panic head-on, wrestling with what feels like an impending catastrophe. It’s a quiet reckoning with the fragility of life and relationships.
Long night
I’ll drive
I really thought that I was gonna die.
Clear head
Back in bed
I hear you sleep; I’m still drowning in dread.
You scared me half to death, Oh Jonathan
But I won’t play a game that no one wins.
Street light
Where you cried
But I can’t forget what I saw in your eyes.
You scared me half to death, Oh Jonathan
But I won’t play a game that no one wins.
You scared me half to death, Oh Jonathan
But I won’t play a game that no one wins.
“Hold On”
A gentle plea rooted in unwavering devotion.
Magana stands ready to support someone struggling, promising comfort and practical help through dark times.
Breathe easy in your sleep.
Hang on. Heal yourself for me.
I will be here in the morning
To give you everything you need
Darling, I’d do anything
If you just hold on to me.
I search for signs in your eyes.
I feel so lonely I could die.
I will be here in the morning
To give you everything you need
Darling, I’d do anything
If you just hold on to me.
Oh well I will put your shoes on for you.
I will clean up in the yard.
And we will do the things you want to
To be near your beating heart.
Because you are all that I see
You’re the air that I breathe.
I will be here in the morning
To give you everything you need
Darling, I’d do anything
If you just hold on to me.
“Shower Song”
A tense portrait of a relationship’s fraying edges.
She knows they’ve reached a breaking point but keeps circling those moments in the solitude of hot water and self-reflection.
I put on clothes I know you hate
I tell you ten but I stay late
I break a glass I know you like
I make you sad when I start crying
You want to stay but I say no
It never lasts, I told you so
Don’t want to live here anymore
Forgot what we are fighting for
So here I am, standing in the shower again
Thinking about things I can’t change
When life gets old and the water here is getting cold
That’s how I know we’ve done the wrong things
I guess I knew that you were right
I think about it all the time
I’ve got these problems on my mind
But I am dumb and you are blind
So here I am, standing in the shower again
Thinking about things I can’t change
When life gets old and the water here is getting cold
That’s how I know we’ve done the wrong things
And I don’t want to make love anymore
Because you feel like a stranger
And I feel like a bore
I don’t want to talk shit out no more
Because you’re a rearranger
And I’m a broken door
I don’t want to do this anymore
So here I am, screaming in the shower again
Thinking about things I can’t change
When life gets old and the water here is getting cold
That’s how I know we’ve done the wrong things
“I’m Not Doing Anything”
A subdued confession of exhaustion and isolation.
Magana avoids social ties, admits to feeling stuck, and clings to small, solitary routines in an attempt to keep going.
Everybody else is so much fun
But I’m still heaving breaths out of wilted lungs
They keep calling, asking about me
I’m not doing, not doing anything
Oh well I’m not doing, not doing anything
I keep to myself and change my plans
Because I hold heavy thoughts in both my hands
Some people complain about their dreams
But I am counting breaths just to get some sleep
Oh and I’m not doing, not doing anything
I’m not doing, not doing anything
I’m not doing, not doing anything
Oh well I’m not doing, not doing anything
I’m not doing, not doing anything
