Okay so I stumbled onto this one through the submission pile and honestly, I clicked play expecting background noise and ended up sitting through the whole thing twice. Igor’s got this whole story — Ukraine, then Russia, now New York — and you can hear that kind of restlessness baked into “My Number One,” this scrappy, guitar-forward thing that splits the difference between My Chemical Romance’s theater-kid drama and Avril Lavigne’s knack for a chorus you’re humming an hour later. There’s even a weird little Mars Volta wobble buried in there if you’re paying attention. It’s messy in the good way, the way a song sounds when someone actually meant it.

And that’s the thing that got me, really — the sincerity. This feels like a guy writing his way through something, self-love as the whole point rather than a hashtag tacked onto a press release. Production-wise it’s still got that bedroom-dreaming-of-arenas quality, rough edges and all, and I kind of love that about it. Igor’s catalog is already stacking up — “Alone,” “You,” now this — each one another piece of the same honest puzzle. If you’re anywhere near the pop-punk revival happening around New York right now, put “My Number One” on the list. Worth the follow.