Frostbitten Feelings: Richard Tyler Epperson’s "December Night"
Some songs feel like they’ve soaked up the frostbite of a winter night and kept it hidden in their chords—“December Night” by Richard Tyler Epperson is exactly that. This isn’t your neatly packaged holiday radio tune pretending at warmth; it’s the 2 AM conversation with yourself that you wouldn’t dare admit to having.
There’s something deeply unsettling about how Epperson captures emotional isolation here—it’s surgical and strangely tender. The indie-rock instrumentation wears its weariness like an old scarf, wrapping itself tightly around lyrics that don’t romanticize toxicity but instead expose its magnetic, merciless pull. Love as self-destruction. Love as déjà vu you can’t outrun. You want to scream at the narrator, “Run away!” only to realize you’d stay too, wouldn’t you?
There’s a specific push-and-pull in the tension—it reminded me unexpectedly of the Futility Closet podcast, which unearths forgotten moments of history. The same feeling exists here: the way Epperson digs up the rubble of dysfunctional relationships, illuminating the absurdity of clinging to what weighs you down but still somehow feels like home. One lyric twists like barbed wire: you’ll hear it, and something old inside you bruises.
Frostbitten Feelings: Richard Tyler Epperson’s “December Night”
While the music itself is deliberately understated—a rain-cloaked guitar here, a weary drumline there—it never hesitates. No moment is filler. The sound shuffles forward purposefully, like someone walking home in the biting cold after leaving the house of someone they never meant to visit again.
By the song’s end, there’s no resolution—and that feels like the point. “December Night” doesn’t offer clean answers because it knows there aren’t any, only the complex and messy emotions we carry into the next version of ourselves. What lingers isn’t relief; it’s recognition.
You may not “like” this song, but you’ll understand it. Whether that understanding comforts or unravels you, though, is anyone’s guess. What a question to leave behind—a haunting on loop.
The Sound of Resilience: Alex Cambridge Talks 'Rupture'
Music industry veteran Alex Cambridge makes a remarkable comeback with “*Rupture*”, a deeply compelling single that marks her return after a seven-year professional hiatus. More than just a song, it’s a powerful narrative of resilience, capturing Cambridge’s personal journey through significant life challenges, including her courageous battle with cancer and professional setbacks.
The track is a masterful blend of alt-folk and dream-pop, showcasing Cambridge’s exceptional songwriting and emotional depth. Her vocals are particularly striking—simultaneously vulnerable and strong, they draw listeners into an intimate storytelling experience. The delicate guitar work builds gradually, creating a rich soundscape that feels both personal and universal.
The delicate guitar work builds gradually, creating a rich soundscape that feels both personal and universal.
Lyrically, “*Rupture*” is profound. Lines like “When the flame burns out, you belong to someone else” reveal a raw, unfiltered exploration of love, loss, and personal transformation. The ghostly backing vocals and textured acoustic arrangements enhance the track’s emotional complexity, making it feel almost like an audio memoir.
What’s particularly impressive is that Cambridge self-produced and mixed the track, demonstrating not just her musical talent but her creative independence. It’s a mature, nuanced work that reflects significant artistic growth.
For fans and newcomers alike, “*Rupture*” isn’t just a comeback single—it’s a statement. Cambridge proves that true artistry transcends time, and her ability to connect through music remains as powerful as ever.
“Take Me Down” Sets the Stage for JD Days’ Grand Comeback
Hey, have you heard JD Days’ new track yet? I can’t stop playing “Take Me Down” – it’s seriously got me hooked! The band’s been quiet for a bit, but they’ve just dropped this absolute banger that’s got me remembering why I fell in love with their music in the first place.
Released a couple months back, it’s the first taste of their upcoming album, and wow, they’re not holding anything back. Those guitar solos? Insane. It’s like they’ve taken everything great about classic rock and gave it a totally modern spin with Take Me Down. There’s this raw energy that just grabs you from the first few seconds.
There’s this raw energy that just grabs you from the first few seconds.
What I love is how they’ve managed to sound both nostalgic and totally fresh. It’s got that 90s Britpop vibe, but it’s not just some throwback track. The harmonies are killer, and the chorus is the kind that’ll be stuck in your head for days. I’m already counting down to the full album – if this single is anything to go by, it’s gonna be epic.
Seriously, do yourself a favor and give “Take Me Down” a listen. Trust me, you won’t regret it.
"Sambwich" by Goetia: A Playful Defiance Against Life's Sour Notes
How do you capture the glint of sunlight on a swaying Brighton pier—the kind you only half notice when you’re too caught up in living? “Sambwich,” the latest offering from Goetia, feels like an answer wrapped in sound rather than words. It doesn’t announce itself; instead, it pulls you, dancefloor-first, into a jam that seems like it was born under the sudden bliss of realizing you’re alive on a Wednesday afternoon.
Charlie’s guitar work carries a swagger that’s part funk, part reggae daydream—sharp but lazy, as though it knows exactly how good it is but doesn’t want to flaunt it. David’s scattershot lyricism lands somewhere between a rallying cry and a grin-filled conversation with your rowdiest friends. The track plants roots in reggae’s breezy pulse, quickly challenging it with unpredictable bursts of tight grooves and jazz-forward detours—not the “look-how-clever-we-are” kind, but the kind that feels like they snuck into the song while no one was looking.
“Sambwich” by Goetia: A Playful Defiance Against Life’s Sour Notes
Yet, beneath the song’s undeniable party aura runs a surprising undercurrent. Is it self-help in danceable disguise? Hard to say. The choruses don’t just suggest you seize the moment—they practically pin you to the wall and demand it. Not tomorrow, or at 30, or later, but now. The exuberance eggs you on, but there’s a hint of defiance, too—a playful kick against all the sourness life tries to hand you. The “Sambwich” isn’t just a meal; it’s how you eat it while laughing your head off.
The risk with fusion like this is ending up in a soup where nothing stands out. Yet Goetia nails the alchemy, refusing to let a single instrument stand still for too long. It feels like they took “genre labels are dead” as a dare instead of a lament.
After “Sambwich,” you’re left wondering—not how sounds can be blended, but why moments as ephemeral as these always seem to punch the hardest.
Anacy’s "Tattooed To My Heart": Where Love Meets the Ink of Eternity
Love is one of those things that feels ancient, yet it reinvents itself in every generation, like a language spoken in dialects only the heart can decode. Anacy’s latest single, “Tattooed To My Heart,” doesn’t break love down into parts; it welds it, whole and fierce, into a story that feels as personal as it is universal. In this three-and-a-half-minute electro-pop confession, she unravels the impossible—the feeling of permanence in a world spinning too fast for anything to stick.
The production is lush without being indulgent, like walking into a room filled with too many flowers, their aromas colliding but somehow blending beautifully. Synths swell, beats pulse with hesitant affection, and in the center of this sonic lattice, Anacy’s voice carries both strength and a delicate tension that feels moments away from breaking. You could swear she wrote this song from the same place Georgia O’Keeffe painted her intimate flowers—intensely personal, yet magnified to the point of universality. This is less a pop song and more a moment frozen in bold colors and soft whispers.
Anacy’s “Tattooed To My Heart”: Where Love Meets the Ink of Eternity
Lyrically, she goes for something quietly devastating—there’s no overly clever phrasing or forced metaphors. The words land like petals and needles, painting love as a contradiction—a permanence that still stings. There’s an almost cinematic fluidity here; listening feels like reading the midpoint of a romance novel, where heartbreak is somehow hopeful.
But the real trick is the push and pull between emotional vulnerability and grandiosity. At one point, her voice dips into vulnerability so piercing, it could be the sound of someone laughing while fighting back tears, then rises into a chorus so loud it feels like a heartbeat ensuring you’ll never forget.
“Tattooed To My Heart”—is she singing to someone else, or is this a love letter to herself?
"Yours, Always" Is A Soulful Journey Through Love and Loss
In “Yours, Always”, MAEVEN’s debut album, Canadian artist explores love, loss and resilience. This seven track indie folk pop gem is another deeply emotional and melodic release that speaks directly to the listener.
The album is an intimate conversation, MAEVEN’s angelic vocals in line with delicate but expansive instrumentation. With raw honesty and lyrical authenticity she delves into themes of heartbreak and self discovery. Over four years, *Yours, Always* is a deeply personal reflection about growth and relationships, written and crafted mostly with guitar and her father.
It seamlessly weaves acoustic intimacy with lush cinematic flourishes. Each track spans the full width of human emotion from gentle ballads, to soaring anthems. MAEVEN’s voice is unapologetically its own; it effortlessly rocks between strength and vulnerability, the weight of which carries her poignant storytelling.
A beautiful and poignant look at life’s complexities. This is a great debut where listeners are encouraged to think about their own experiences, leaving a lasting impression long after the last note disappears. ‘MAEVEN has become a pretty powerful new voice in the indie music scene.”
Exploring Life’s Transience: Chellcy Reitsma on 'Momento Mori
Alchemy Suite is a poignant ode to life’s transience, and Momento Mori, Dutch-American singer-songwriter Chellcy Reitsma’s latest album, is a beautiful, sad and beautiful song. Combining blues, alt rock, rockabilly and American in a compelling mix of sound and a striking film noir aesthetic that’s far too cool to mess up, Reitsma masterfully weaves this tapestry into something worth your time.
The haunting refrains of “Sad Lullaby” and the folk narratives of “Death’s at the Door” give the album a singular list of solid tunes, pulling the listener in as Reitsma invites us to think about mortality and its effects on the human condition.
Reitsma now lives in Malta and her artistic expression goes beyond music, tapping into her roots in visual arts and choreography in order to tell her stories. This is the first of a conceptual double album, to be followed by Carpe Diem, which investigates what it means to live life without regret.
This ambitious project showcases how Reitsma’s innovative approach, along with his dedication to authentic artistry, come through in his work. In our conversation we discuss the creative process behind Momento Mori, its thematic resonances and the influences that contributed to its singular sound.
With Momento Mori: Chellcy Reitsma, join the Journey and see what inspired and moved her. Get into the life of this visionary artist and listen to this haunting release.
What sparked the concept and inspiration behind “Memento Mori”? Our Covid experience and after. During Covid it was a very dark time, thinking or hearing about death almost daily and fighting depression. After Covid everyone was happier, getting out more, feeling hopeful, live music events made a comeback, etc. We wrote these songs over the last 3-4 years. Momento Mori is the first half of a double concept album.
It is a play on the concept of Memento Mori, popularly translated to “remember death.” Momento means ‘moment’, so for me it means to remember there is death but don’t dwell on it for more than a moment. Carpe Diem will be the second part released in 2025. Carpe Diem means “Seize the day.” So the idea is to remember you will die, so seize every moment and live life to the fullest.
How does this release reflect your artistic growth since the last project? I feel we have grown as artists, and songwriters and I feel I have grown as a singer too. We started blending even more genre’s into our songwriting. I feel we started really developing our own unique sound, which we will continue to further develop.
What emotions or reactions do you hope listeners experience? Hope, inspiration, and a touch of nostalgia. I want people to reflect on life and feel hopeful about the future; to be motivated to live to the fullest while they can and not let fear, loss or any negativity stop them.
I want people to reflect on life and feel hopeful about the future;
How did you blend styles to achieve the song’s unique atmosphere? We blended alternative rock, psychedelic rock, folk rock, poetry, and more. We experimented with unique rhythmic changes as well and I drew on my Egyptian and Turkish dance background with some of the more unusual rhythms.
Describe the songwriting process for “Memento Mori.” I usually write most of my songs in the car while I’m driving. I record my vocals and melody lines on my phone or computer and send it to a guitarist to lay down chords. We usually meet up then and finish the song and further discuss the direction we want to take it in. In the case of “Momento Mori” on most of the songs my composer is Alan Degabriele, but there are a few other songwriters too like Chuck Moyen on Phoenix Fly.
Then I send the demo to a producer, telling them the stylistic direction I want to push it in and the instrumentation I desire. In the case of this double album, I produced everything with The Animal Farm because they are edgy and brilliant.
Were there production challenges, and how did you overcome them? I produced all the songs at The Animal Farm in London and got them mastered at Hafod mastering. The biggest challenge during production was deciding how I wanted to sing each song. The other challenge was distance. I live in Malta and The Animal Farm is in London, so I recorded my vocals and the backing vocals with Kristijan Volchev at Swe4r Lab Studio in Malta and had a number of online meetings with The Animal Farm.
How do your life experiences influence your songwriting? Very much! Most of my songs are inspired by my own life experiences. Loss, live, overcoming challenges in life, travel, and and being an immigrant are all recurring inspirations and themes for me.
Are you working on an album, EP or standalone singles? Yes, we have the second part of the double concept album “Carpe Diem” releasing in 2025 and a 7 track EP called “Home”, which I wrote and recorded while on a songwriter tour in Nashville, that I’ll release in late 2025 or early 2026.
What’s next for Chellcy Reitsma? Besides or upcoming releases mentioned above, we also just finished an album release concert where we recorded all the music and filmed. So we are planning to also release those as well as use the video to apply for festivals and opportunities abroad. My dream is to tour more. We will also continue songwriting, performing locally and in Nashville, and plan the release of the live album and film from our release concert.
How do you balance darkness and light in your creative expression? I try to put a hopeful spin on everything. For example in Poenix Fly, which could be an incedibly dark and depressing song, I lightened it up with a happy-sounding chorus and a positive outlook and message that they rose up like a phoenix and flew away.
What role does introspection play in your songwriting? Everything is introspection. I feel it’s important to always examine one’s self for growth as a human and as an artist. I believe I need to look inward to become a better person and to discover what I can give back to the world.
How do you navigate vulnerability and authenticity in your art? I wear my heart on my sleeve and I think both my songwriting and performances are raw, emotional and honest, demonstrating a lot of vulnerability and my authenticity as a person and an artist.
I really lay it all out there and put myself on the line.
Baylee Dowling's "Not Turning Back": When Life's Softness Hits Hardest
It’s strange to think about silence as a form of noise, isn’t it? The kind that fills a room after you’ve heard something so emotionally dense, anything else feels obnoxious. That’s the type of quiet that “Not Turning Back” by Baylee Dowling leaves behind. It’s not the silence of emptiness, but the kind where something just sank deep into your chest, and you need a moment.
Written at 16—an age where life hits you hardest with its bewildering softness—Baylee seems to have distilled the essence of farewell into something frighteningly pure. Simplicity, in this case, doesn’t mean easy. No, this acoustic ballad is as bare as an unpainted wall after taking down old pictures; every lyric floats with purpose, sitting uncomfortably with honesty.
The guitar walks a fine line between comforting and restless—Baylee’s hands keep it in check, but you can tell it wants to wander off into dangerous territory. Honestly, that tension between what’s said and what’s implied is quietly brilliant.
Baylee Dowling’s “Not Turning Back”: When Life’s Softness Hits Hardest
Moving on from someone who’s left a lasting impact feels a bit like tearing Velcro off your skin—it should just peel away, but there’s always a rip. The feeling isn’t shock, but a slow ache, and that’s where this song lives. Maybe Tolstoy felt something like this when he wrote about life’s small sufferings being universal. Though, with acoustic guitar rather than dense Russian prose.
At its core, “Not Turning Back” doesn’t demand resolution. There’s no fiery triumphant cry here, just a steady pull of acceptance, almost like Baylee Dowling’s voice itself is exhaling tired, but peaceful. The courage is subtle. You might not notice it right away.
"Digital Voyage, Vol. 1": ReSeT Ryan Tram's Heartbeat in the Hum of a Late-Night Dream
Plugging into “Digital Voyage, Vol. 1” feels like slipping into a late-night dream that somehow matches your heartbeat to the hum of your computer’s cooling fan—comforting, mechanical, yet undeniably human. ReSeT Ryan Tram turns his years of reflection into a landscape of shards and circuits, but then blurs the line between metal and skin. Imagine calling a friend on speakerphone, only to realize halfway through the conversation you’re talking to their hologram instead. You’re both there… but not.
Blue and Red are not just pixelated avatars wandering in some digital arena. They are feelings—the ache of distance and the exhilaration of uncharted spaces. There’s a tug-of-war pulsing within every synth line, a push and pull between isolation and expansion. Amidst the eruptions of supersaws and atmospheric swells, you can almost feel the clash between the two forces. Maybe it’s the shifting friendship dynamics Ryan experienced from Toronto to Spain. Maybe it’s something far bigger, something cosmic and imprecise.
The future bass elements pave a familiar road, sure. But there are subtle detours—moments when you think the beat will drop traditionally, but instead, it lingers, almost like it’s waiting for you to catch your breath. And then, you’re in it. A digital freefall. It’s not scary though, more like sticking your hand out a car window on the freeway. You could be hurt, but in that instant, you don’t care.
“Digital Voyage, Vol. 1”: ReSeT Ryan Tram’s Heartbeat in the Hum of a Late-Night Dream
And really, isn’t that the digital experience? Laura Canela’s pop-touched lyrical touches barely flutter against the tidal hooks—just enough for you to catch words between blips, but mercifully abstract. In a world where everything—especially identity—gets uploaded, the small, intentional vagueness reminds you that feeling doesn’t need full definition.
After this journey, one has to wonder: Are we designing the virtual world, or is it designing us?
Jagged Justice: Lazywall’s 'L3ado Lbared' Cuts Deep
Here’s the thing that caught me off-guard about “L3ado Lbared”: it feels like an ancient protest painted onto a modern soundscape. And I’m not just talking about the oud lurking between the guitar riffs. I mean, this track digs deep into themes older than cities—but sounds like something you might hear in a dark, smoke-choked venue where the walls are sweating. How does that even happen?
Lazywall (shoutout to brothers Nao, Youssef, and Monz) aren’t tiptoeing around the darkness of forced marriage, rape, and broken social structures. No, they’re kicking the door open. “L3ado Lbared” is a gut-punch, and they don’t need to speak the language you grew up with for you to feel the sting. The narrative brings the horror to focus—there’s the desperation of a girl, married off to her abuser, and the silence of everyone who should be screaming instead. Those Arabic time signatures? They’re almost tripping over themselves, like they’re caught in the same nightmare.
Jagged Justice: Lazywall’s ‘L3ado Lbared’ Cuts Deep
Sonically, it’s like walking down a twisted path of jagged stones where the oud and electric guitar are battle axes, cutting through the scream of injustices that swirl like smoke. There’s no politeness here. Layers of grit collide with traditional Arabic nuances like a forgotten revolution banging to be remembered.
And it’s not just the music; it’s the visceral. It leaves you off-kilter, like a Picasso portrait staring back at you after too much whiskey—faces distorted, but the emotion still piercingly clear.
The odd part? It’s cathartic. There’s anger, sure. But somewhere in there, between Youssef’s riffs and Monz’s heavy rhythms, there’s a rough hope. Or… maybe that’s just us hoping someone’s finally ready to change something.
“L3ado Lbared” doesn’t let you forget. What’s left, though, is whether anyone’s really listening.
From Cardboard to Chaos: Dead Tooth’s "Birthday Boohoo"
When was the last time you contemplated the emotional gravity of a pizza box? Dead Tooth’s latest single, “Birthday Boohoo”, doesn’t ask you to stare at the cardboard container, but it certainly invites you to contemplate life’s absurdities—its folded corners, its grease-stains of existential dread. Queens-based Dead Tooth has cooked up a post-punk fever dream with this one, turning what could have been a throwaway slice of alienation into something unsettlingly digestible. This isn’t just another birthday party track. This is a glitch in whatever simulation you’re currently running.
Zach Ellis howls like he’s stuck in a photo booth—those sticky flashes of intimacy and distorted laughter gone wrong. And then there’s the saxophone. John Stanesco manages to somehow make five quick notes of wind sound like the dying gasp of New York City itself. What’s that? A sax in post-punk? Yeah, it’s possible, and it doesn’t just fit—it leaks into the cracks of your brain, uninvited, yet essential. You’re thrust in and out of sync with the landscape, while Taylor Mitchell’s disjointed, jagged guitar matches the fractured storyline, each note echoing the dislocation that “Birthday Boohoo” revels in.
From Cardboard to Chaos: Dead Tooth’s “Birthday Boohoo”
This track hammers at you like a bad birthday party that you never wanted to attend, drenched in odd, intimate reflections. James Duncan’s bass grooves feel like footsteps in a dream—you can hear them, but they’re too far from you, impossible to follow. Ginno Tacsiat on drums practically stutters his way through, leaving just enough stability for the chaos to float atop. It’s an uncomfortable kind of beautiful.
Themes of isolation and disconnection? Sure, but this feels less like a song about feeling out of place and more like an attempt to rewrite the rules of any room Ellis walks into. And sometimes, those rooms are covered in pizza boxes.
“Birthday Boohoo” isn’t the anthem of your 20s. It’s the messy, emotional hangover of realizing that some things just don’t fit—yet, somehow, they’re the most unforgettable.
Jetglo’s “Begin Again”: The Reboot You Didn’t Know You Needed
If Jetglo’s “Begin Again” were a Polaroid, it wouldn’t capture a sunny day; it’d be caught mid-throw, just before it hit the asphalt. This single is rough around the edges, like ripping through a tired notebook, and yet, somehow, it’s exactly the sort of tension you lean into.
Let’s talk about that heaviness. Where Jetglo once skimmed the top of sleek indie surfaces, this time they’ve piled on weight, letting their riffs clatter like something teetering on the brink, one chord away from snapping. It’s gritty—but not in the overdone, let’s-get-our-hands-dirty way. It’s like you walked through a damp alley and found yourself humming along to the hum of something broken. Their signature hooks, yes, they’re there. Only now, they’ve learned how much volume you can fit between harmonies—and what happens when you let them crash into each other.
Jetglo’s “Begin Again”: The Reboot You Didn’t Know You Needed
“Begin Again” feels more like an emotional reboot than a second album teaser. Lyrically, it’s thick with that “dust yourself off, but then maybe question if you really want to” energy. The chorus digs in, hovering over the kind of self-doubt that knows it hasn’t been resolved yet. But that’s the charm, isn’t it? The irresolution. The track rejects clarity, refusing to tie everything up in a neat musical bow, and honestly, would we even trust that bow?
We get parallels—the way the Velvet Underground explored space between notes; Jetglo’s playing with something similar, though dirtier. There’s a catharsis here that doesn’t beg for retreat, but demands you stand in the wreckage a little longer.
In the end, “Begin Again” isn’t a restart. It’s a reintroduction—less handshake, more shattered glass.
It’s Christmas Party Time” Mick J. Clark's Festive Anthem
It is time to introduce Mick J. Clark – and his cheerful song “It’s Christmas Party Time”, which brings some fresh air to the usual Christmas playlist. This fun filled rock ‘n’ roll song is not just another Christmas song – it is a jubilant dance, an anthem for the festivities.
Right from the start of the music one is able to visualize a ‘Christmas party.’ The music is traditional holiday composition with a kick of classic rock and roll. Tinging bells and chimes are added to the rocking guitar beats and it’s a perfect mix of old world and new world.
The lyrics of the song being sung by Clark are what make the essence of Christmas as depicted in the track. The finale section is the chorus which is simply astonishing and compounds the fun by calling out – ‘It’s Christmas Party Time’. It is the kind of song that makes one or all of the following: hum along, dance to the beats or just appreciate the mood of the season.
I’m struck by how this track can seem classic at times and still fresh at others. It is unapologetically rocking but still has contemporary and lively feel to it. From tree decoration to holiday parties or enjoying the festive season, this song is all about raw positive energy of the holidays.
A Christmas must-have on any list thus “It’s Christmas Party Time” in case you need to start your party season with some Christmas music.
From Ghana to the Global Stage: The Journey of Richard Akoto, Founder of Musicearshot
Richard Akoto is a Ghanaian music blogger, website designer, writer, and the visionary founder and owner of Musicearshot. A dedicated voice in the indie music scene, Richard has made it his mission to spotlight emerging talent, creating a platform that connects artists with audiences eager for fresh, authentic sounds.
Musicearshot has grown into a trusted resource for music fans, curating content that spans a diverse array of genres, from experimental lofi to orchestral pop and everything in between. Among his career highlights, Richard has crafted insightful articles for celebrated artists such as two-time Grammy nominee David Arkenstone and rising hip-hop star Dax, bringing their unique journeys and creative achievements to a wider audience.
Born and raised in Ghana, Richard’s passion for music and digital storytelling began at an early age. He was captivated by the power of music to convey emotion and by the challenges many artists face in reaching listeners. This inspired him to establish Musicearshot, a platform designed to support and promote artists by showcasing their stories, creative processes, and artistic influences, allowing audiences to connect with both the music and the stories behind it.
Richard combines his skills in website design and writing to create an engaging online experience that goes beyond traditional music blogging. His in-depth reviews, artist features, and vivid storytelling have earned Musicearshot a reputation as a go-to space for fans and musicians alike.
With a commitment to honest and thoughtful critique, Richard’s work not only brings visibility to lesser- known talent but also fosters a community that celebrates diversity, originality, and innovation in music.
Throughout his career, Richard has drawn inspiration from renowned music bloggers and publicists, aspiring to establish Musicearshot as a prominent voice in the digital media landscape. He looks up to industry leaders who have pioneered the craft of digital music journalism, and he continues to work toward building a legacy that bridges artistic talent and eager audiences.
Driven by a deep love for music, Richard continues to make strides in music journalism, creating a lasting impact in the industry and building connections across the globe. His passion for supporting artists and for showcasing their work resonates with readers worldwide, helping Musicearshot grow into a community where talent is both celebrated and nurtured.
In his free time, Richard enjoys immersing himself in a variety of music genres, watching films, playing computer games, and honing his web design skills, always with an eye on the next big sound. Looking ahead, he is excited to further expand Musicearshot’s reach, connecting even more artists and fans through his platfrom.
From Blues to Jazz: Agrona’s Journey to Unfiltered
Hello all, here is the continuation of our interview with Agrona, an artist who has been performing blues and rock hits, before focusing on her own singles. Her latest album *Unfiltered* is an owner account of oneself, or who or what a person really is, and the different faces they put on in life.
By adding Jazz music tones to her straight on and unadulterated blues rock, *Unfiltered* is distinctive while maintaining Agrona’s passionate vocal and gritty lyricism plan. Essential themes of the track embrace personal freedom and conformity on the one hand, and stepping beyond the veil of references on the other hand in an effort to reveal the reality of being seen.
That is why, in this interview, Agrona talks about the concept of *Unfiltered* and its creation, as well as the development of the artist. It is also sings about new works in progress, shows and collaborations that are in the pipeline to showcase her versatility.
Here are some clips that should prepare the audience to embrace this personality as she speaks on what it takes to navigate through life, success and several feelings that form the music. So let’s look into the untold story of *Unfiltered*!
“Congratulations on the release of *Unfiltered*! What’s the story behind the track? It’s about the different masks we wear for different people for example you show a different face at home that you would at work and then sometimes people have produced based on their own past experience with other people for example if your relationship with women is good then you are likely to assume good relationships with other women and vice versa so they have a filtered vision of who you are that’s what it’s about it’s asking if you would still love me if I was unfiltered both mine and yours without the distorted picture
The title *Unfiltered* suggests raw emotion or authenticity. What message or themes are you exploring in this song? Oh I think I answered that in the above some people think unfiltered is surface level what you see but what I meant by unfiltered is who you really are behind what we look like or the vanity we use with make up or media tools to enhance how others see us and I can’t speak for anyone else I actually love a good filter something to hide behind.
How does *Unfiltered* stand out from your previous work?
I really love blues and rock and that’s my normal genre when I was doing covers before last year, I never dreamed I could write my own songs. Although I’ve always loved being creative I wanted to sing a jazz song in a big fan of postmodern jukebox I always wanted to be in something like that and travel the world performing in a big band it’s still something I’d love to do
What kind of emotions or reactions do you hope listeners will take away from *Unfiltered*? Well at best I’d hope that people would enjoy the vocals and the cadence and maybe inspire some deeper thinking from some who can relate maybe provoke some thought but I love that people seem to enjoy listening and it’s always amazing to me when they tell me they love my voice I love singing so it’s a match, sorry I ramble in answer to your question I want people to listen to my voice and be wowed and listen to my lyrics and leave thought ful (maybe come back for another listen 😜
How did the process of writing and producing *Unfiltered* unfold? Any unique challenges or surprises along the way? I actually started off with a vision for a video which hasn’t happened yet of like a hall of mirrors and distorted visions I’m very new to song writing if you’d have asked me a year ago if I’d ever write my own I’d have said there’s enough amazing songs in the world how would I even compete? But I really enjoyed playing with words and when I found the beat that matched my kinetics it’s was a great feeling, I especially loved recording process where both you and the engineer/producer work together to produce a full song that I can be proud and say hey I did that I also really love performing this one live it’s fun and I feel amazing knowing I wrote it
How does the instrumentation or arrangement of *Unfiltered* contribute to its overall vibe and meaning? The arrangement of the music being jazz kinda fit the theme because jazz is imperfect improvision freeing and beyond boundaries
I loved how the music changed and helped me tell a story using my film range which helped me in my performance I loved that it challenged my vocals
How has your sound or style evolved leading up to this release? I’ve always preferred blues rock Beth hart being one of my absolute favourites but now I really love jazz I remember really disliking modern jazz when I was a kid as it’s just sounded like noise to me but it’s definitely grown on me I wanted to do like a fusion one jazz and reggae at some point we’ll see how it’s goes
What does *Unfiltered* mean to you personally, both as an artist and an individual?
It’s my truth and I love that I’ve been able to convey the lessons I’ve learnt in my life that you have to look beyond face surfaces in other people not everything is black and white not everything is perfect and it’s ok to have distorted vision as long as you recognize that it’s distorted.
If you could describe *Unfiltered* in just three words, what would they be and why? Look beyond sight.. I don’t really know good questions by the way I think because both of my original songs unfiltered and changes encourage you to look beyond what you see, to be who you are on the inside, not let other distorted views of how the world sees you define who you choose to be
What’s next for Agrona? Any upcoming performances, collaborations, or surprises in the works?
There’s a few things in the pipe works I’m going to Paris next month to work with a lovely song writer from America on her song it’s a challenge because it’s different to what I normally do so fingers crossed I can pull it off, I have a feature set at king Richard the 3rd pub on the 17th of December and possibly a set at a event for New Year’s Eve working on an Album and collaborating with some people there are a few other things that I can’t disclose at this time they may or may not happen but now I’ve started you can’t shut me up lol
Three Sixes is ready to shake up the music scene with their upcoming album, “Call Me The Devil,” set to drop on January 29, 2025. But before then their latest single, which is titled”Welcome to the New World Order,” promises a raw, unfiltered exploration of our complex modern landscape, blending hard-hitting industrial sounds with symphonic metal’s dramatic intensity.
The band has always been known for pushing boundaries, and this album is no exception. By collaborating across different musical styles and geographic locations, Damien, Blake, and Kill have created a record that’s as provocative as it is powerful. Their approach goes beyond music—they’re crafting a statement about global politics, personal struggle, and societal transformation.
“Welcome to the New World Order” stands as a visceral commentary on our current moment. The track weaves personal reflection with broader social critique, challenging listeners to look beyond surface-level narratives. With Three Sixes, music isn’t just sound—it’s a conversation, a challenge, and a mirror reflecting our most uncomfortable truths.
“Congratulations on “Welcome to the New World Order”! What inspired this song’s concept and message?
Damien: Thank you. Musically, the foundation was made by Kill and Blake. We were all on the same page as far as a vision went. After they did their parts, they sent it to me. I loved it on the first listen. Once I confirmed the arrangement with them, the chorus just immediately jumped out at me. After we agreed on that, the rest of the lyrics almost wrote themselves. The message came from what has been happening globally and building up for decades up to now. I felt it could be the voice and opinions of not just us as a band, but anyone else who has been following what’s going on, and listens to it today.
How does this single fit into your artistic journey and musical evolution?
Blake: I think this song in particular brings a musical intensity that sets the tone for the attitude of the album. It’s a bit faster than anything the band has previously released, and that parallels the increased chaos we’re seeing around the world, as well as the intense feelings we personally have regarding current events. This album was also a chance for me to contribute to the writing process, which given my musical influences, brings a different dynamic to the songs than what’s been previously released.
Damien: It fits perfectly into what Three Sixes has evolved into. This record is another step forward as far as growth goes. I say this because we have generally never really touched on politics or social issues. Subject wise, I was focused in other places. So as this record was being written, all of us had been affected by the terrible economy and we as taxpayers- being treated like shit. It’s an honest view of what the world is seeing right now and it’s not good.
Can you elaborate on the themes and symbolism in “Welcome to the New World Order”?
Damien: What’s crazy is the guy that did our video is someone who none of us ever met. I found him on Fiverr. He literally lives on the opposite side of the planet from us. The only communication I had with him was online providing the lyrics, audio and logos. He took it from there. As far as the symbolism goes, I think the guy in the suit and skull wears several different faces; being those of death, surveillance and President Biden.
I thought the factories with the discharge were good too, touching on the global environmental distress. I also thought the protests shown accurately depict what is happening now across the world, especially in American colleges. The overall theme is real-time, unchecked chaos. I think the symbolism was nailed.
Blake: We’ll see how global policies evolve moving forward, but in the last decade especially, we’ve seen insane regulations and restrictions placed on citizens around the world. From COVID lockdowns to social media censorship to dystopian policies pushed forward by power-tripped bureaucrats, there are a lot of areas you can point to that have been contaminated by those who devalue freedom. There are millions of people around the world, including us, who are tired of being conditioned to comply with tyrants.
What personal experiences or observations fueled the lyrics?
Damien: Before I had the music for “Reject Control”, BLM riots were going on across the country. Although I live in Southern California, violent crime and home invasions were still going down near me at that time, just a few miles away. I was warned by several friends that it could be coming and to prepare accordingly. I did. Luckily nothing happened, but it spawned the lyrics for “Reject Control”. Most notably, the first four lines which set the tone for the rest of the song.
“Call Me The Devil” was actually a sarcastic song simply to upset PC people because “I Fuck The Dead” (I.F.T.D) didn’t offend people anymore. So I started the tune with the first verse and chorus. Kill and Blake loved it. My only goal was to set snowflakes off on both sides of the aisle because as an Independent, I can do as much. When the guys wanted me to write more, I did. Only to realize I wrote a song about myself, haha! I thought and still think that was pretty funny. They loved this song so much that they wanted it to be the title tune for the record. My ideas were different, but I agreed and I’m glad I did.
While I did my best to make it vague and open to interpretation, “Anticipating Death” was written about someone I knew who took their own life. In retrospect, that person was declaring through their own, blatant actions what they were going to do in front of anyone within eyesight and nobody saw it coming until it happened. At that point, it all made sense. I could go further with other tunes if you want, but there’s a few of them.
Blake: To build off Damien, we liked the idea of “Call Me The Devil” for the album title because that theme permeates across the album. There’s heavy messaging in several of the songs that will likely upset some people, but even outside of our album, there’s the whole cancel culture epidemic.
There’s an entire demographic of people who spend their time getting upset at other people for their views, from the left and the right, and people are demonized for whatever view they have. The album title goes out as a middle finger to anyone, at any level of power, who can’t just have a conversation, but has to resort to name-calling and putting people down.
Can you walk us through your songwriting process?
Damien: This time around, it was different than others. Kill lives in Florida. Blake and I live about 20 minutes apart in California. Johnny (R.I.P.) lived about an hour from Blake and me in LA. With the exceptions of a few (Call Me The Devil, They and Anti-theist) the rest of the tunes started with Kill writing the riffs and arranging the songs. He’d email them to Blake.
Those two would decide what they thought was best and would send them to me. I agreed with all of it. We found a formula and a great groove together. Outside the initial version of “They” all of us agreed on the song structures. Once that happened, I knew where the lyrics were gonna go and wrote them. The entire process was literally a total team effort. I think it shows.
Are you exploring new genres or sounds?
Blake: I take influence from many different areas, and for this album I drew a lot of inspiration from Fear Factory, Strapping Young Lad, SepticFlesh, Psycroptic, Machine Head, and many others, not just in terms of musical attitude, but production and mixing. These bands have symphonic and hybrid elements that elevate their music to a whole different level of experience, and I wanted to incorporate that into our sound and build off the previous Three Sixes albums.
Kill: I’m always pulling from different styles of music, personally. Sonically, I wish I had more patience to work with different effects and modulation. When it comes down to it, nothing beats simplicity.
Damien: Always. It’s a never ending journey and nothing is ever out of bounds. It’s arguably my favorite part about what we do.
Will “Welcome to the New World Order” be part of an upcoming album?
Damien: Yes. It will be the second of 12 songs from our new record “Call Me The Devil”, to be released on Freethinkers Day, January 29th, 2025.
What’s next creatively for Three Sixes?
Damien: We put everything we had from the last 10 years into this record. Shots were fired and the chamber is cleared, so nothing new in the works at the moment.
How do you engage with fans and build community?
Damien: We have an emailing list that we use to stay in touch, which we encourage people to sign up for, as well as social media and just going out to see other bands play.
Blake: The most effective way to build a community, in my experience, is person-to-person. Social media posts are great for reaching a large audience, but it’s typically a shallow following built in a very noisy environment, so having personal interaction or direct messaging tends to build stronger connections.
Kill: Social media can be useful or a dumpster fire, either at any given time. It can be tedious to constantly engage, but outside of touring and making that impact with new fans, it’s the best way to develop and nurture those connections.
What message would you like to share with global listeners?
Damien: While we apologize for the long delay in between records, I can promise that it will be worth the wait. I’d also like to say that we brought “The album experience” back. So my suggestion to anyone who listens to our latest “Call Me The Devil” record all the way through for the first time is this- put on a pair of headphones, hit “play” and donate 45 minutes of uninterrupted time for a listen. You won’t be disappointed.
Blake: Put this album in your workout playlist, lol.
Kill: First off, thank you for checking us out. We always welcome feedback and conversation regarding our music, or even bands you think we should know about!
MJ Lake's "Falling From The Floor": Stitching Fractured Epiphanies into a Cohesive Tapestry
Let me tell you something—listening to “Falling From The Floor” feels a bit like slipping through the cracks of your own memories. It’s not about soaring or plummeting. No. MJ Lake and his Salt Lake-based cohort (Dylan Schorer, M. Horton Smith, Travis Mickelson, and the enigmatic touch of Joshy Soul) have crafted something that doesn’t rise or fall. It levitates in that strange, almost liminal space between reality and gut feelings.
You can feel the urgency. The album is live, but it doesn’t try to remind you it’s live. There’s this rawness—they resist the urge to polish it too much. It’s like they’re hyper-aware that the process of smoothing things out often scuffs out the magic, you know?
Lyrically, it’s personal without being self-absorbed. There’s the sweeping sense of trying to stitch together individual fractured epiphanies into something cohesive—and, by God, they actually do it. The songs pulse with that kind of pent-up frustration and hope that 2020 and the years that clawed in after it left behind.
MJ Lake’s “Falling From The Floor”: Stitching Fractured Epiphanies into a Cohesive Tapestry
The band? They’re not just playing through these tracks; they’re bleeding into the fabric of each song. It’s like a painting that’s not done but is better for leaving room to breathe. Schorer’s guitar seems less about phrases and more about textures—at one moment brooding, and the next it’s pulling you into some half-lit dive bar of your imagination. Meanwhile, Joshy Soul’s keys act like some unexpected, mischievous mediator, reminding you that emotions don’t always follow the rules.
An album like this feels necessary right now, but not because it’s trying to “say something important.” Its beauty lies in how it communicates when it isn’t trying too hard to communicate at all.
I think we’re all falling from the floor a bit, aren’t we?
Charts and Graphs Impresses With "Assume The Position"
Post-punk and corporate jargon have seldom been this intimate. When Charts and Graphs dropped “Assume the Position,” I wasn’t expecting them to twist a cubicle-bound lexicon into something that dances around your brain like your 1984 office nightmares had a rhythmic pulse. But here we are, shoulders bouncing while existential dread whispers in the ear. It’s synthetic, it’s tangible, but it’s also claustrophobic. It’s like you’re shimmying through reports and deadlines that carry moral weight, yet those synth lines make sure you’re doing so in some glitter-covered combat boots.
“Memo” is more than just a scathing email to your inbox; it’s a punchline that isn’t funny. The track seethes with a critique of our digital personas, laughing at the hollow shells we’ve become, yet somehow suggesting we’re all comedians trying to find the punchline in a meandering, scrolling life. There’s a jerky paranoia beneath the groove that channels Devo’s mechanical alarms. At the same time, Dan’s vocals, equal parts preacher and cynic, invite us to circle the drain just a little longer. “Who’s laughing?” the song seems to ask.
“Said It, Mean It” gives vulnerability an electric backbone. With technology constantly buffering our emotions, this song pleads for clarity and truth behind the constant noise. It’s like crafting an emotional text that the algorithm can never predict, awkward and real but immensely satisfying once it finally gets through. A pulse runs through it—the kind that draws you into a club, but you’re dancing while trying to close all those emotional tabs in your head.
And then there’s “Head Space.” The basslines in this track stretch like elastic tied around a growing sense of isolation. It’s not sad, per se—it’s more like floating in a sensory deprivation tank of your own thoughts. Gary’s drums are sharp yet maintain an ethereal quality, as if the beat isn’t sure whether to crash down or just drift. You feel the weight of self-sabotage here, the aching distance between souls, and yet it feels strangely placating, like a friend offering you headphones to drown it all out.
“Pressure Pressure” doesn’t just talk about being crushed—it shrinks and expands you like some bizarre physics experiment of modern life. The repetition of “pushing down” feels like a mantra for everyone who’s shouldering too much responsibility while trying to hold fast to a moment of calm. There’s a suffocating circularity that’s viciously magnetic—you can’t help keep coming back for another round of the same grind, drawn by the promise of Ross’ grounding bass lines pinning everything just enough.
Charts and Graphs Impresses With “Assume The Position”
“Janeen” (or is it Jenny? Does it matter?) smacks you in the heart like a forgotten voicemail from a night out, aglow with intoxicated longing. There’s something almost hypnotic about the repetition, like you’re on that sixth loop in your head during a moment of silent obsession. Desire becomes a chant, wanting to cling to something—but also fearful of what it might mean to grasp too tightly. The simplicity traps you, weaving fragments of past romance into your present hungover reflection.
Then we hit the gritty pavement with “Physical Specimen.” If there’s a track that screams mall-rat nihilism, it’s this one. Materialism bleeds here in a smirk that won’t fade, with Dan’s voice coldly surveying a landscape of disposable encounters. There’s nothing tender here, not a shred. Every cynical quip about trading in something real for something shiny burns with recognition, yet you can’t help but nod along.
“Targets and Timelines” is practically shooting out of a cannon with its critique of endless ambition. Ever meet someone who became *the job*? Yeah, this one’s for them (and probably about them too). It captures the cutthroat race to the top with a businessman as unnerving as he is mesmerizing. Pairing chirpy synths with twisted plays on power, this track mirrors a world where endless targets make you dizzy but reaching them might be worse. “Plastic briefcases” never sounded so ominous.
Charts and Graphs Impresses With “Assume The Position”
With “Wake Up!,” we’re slapping ourselves on the face under flickering fluorescent lights. It’s a call to arms, but for what, exactly? There’s a starkness here—not a war cry, but rather a personal revolt. When they sing “leaving the platinum behind,” it doesn’t feel like a metaphor for abandoning wealth—it feels like shedding a skin. This is a mirror in a public restroom, where you take a long, hard look and decide today, maybe, you’ll fix just one thing in your messy little cosmos.
“Beat the Heat” is as much a vibe as it is a reminder that resistance is futile. The heat, much like those unrelenting thoughts at 3 am, isn’t something to fight, but to surrender to. Slithering synths and a humid bassline slow everything down, suggesting that maybe, possibly, the secret lies in stopping the chase altogether. Let the sweat come.
Charts and Graphs Impresses With “Assume The Position”
And “Who Watches the Watchmen”? It’s all about wanting to run yet staying tethered. The song builds an environment where the fog of loud inner noise battles an urge for escape. With each repetition about wanting to go, the intensity swells, making it less of a statement and more of a plea. Can you ever truly break from the very thing you’re intertwined with?
Ultimately, “Assume the Position” is a twisting mirror of modern life, bouncing between desire, disillusionment, and the fleeting promises of control. Beneath all the syncopated beats and jittering synths is a shared restlessness, a need to navigate the glaring contradictions of society while keeping ourselves from falling apart… one dance at a time.
"Do I Scare You?" by Anthony Quaid: The Soundtrack to Your Uncomfortable Truths
Anthony Quaid’s newest single, “Do I Scare You?”, opens like a thunderstorm in slow motion—the kind where the brewing tension isn’t just in the clouds but between people, between selves. This isn’t just a track for weekend playlists or post-brunch car rides. This is a clenched fist of a song, daring the listener to flinch. Baton Rouge may lie in Quaid’s rearview mirror, but you can hear the weight of its humid sidewalks and dusty whispers in every syllable.
Sonically, “Do I Scare You?” feels like a vinyl record being spun in a neon-lit dive bar where the WiFi’s out—disconnected enough to feel unsettling, but vibrant as hell. The blending of genres here can best be described as a Saturday night fever dream: you’ve got the blister of rock, the swagger of hip-hop, and glossy synths that click like polished switchblades. Quaid’s voice? It moves from a jagged snarl to something tender, like he’s peeling back layers of skin, daring you to look.
“Do I Scare You?” by Anthony Quaid: The Soundtrack to Your Uncomfortable Truths
It’s not subtle, but that’s kind of the point. Quaid asks the listener directly: “Do I scare you?” and—spoiler alert—the answer should be “yes.” But not because he’s dangerous. The fear, he suggests, lies in our inability to reckon with another’s boldness, with their refusal to be small or quiet in the face of awkward questions and disapproving faces. This song grabs intolerance by the collar and drags it out into the sun.
The political and personal blur in “Do I Scare You?” is like ink in the rain. The song feels less like an anthem and more like a rally cry that burns the rulebook it came with.
And yet, in the end, it doesn’t just demand to be loud. It dares you to join the noise.
Sharleene Delivers Emotional Depth In Debut Single “Keep Coming Back”
Ghanaian singer/songwriter Sharleene officially makes her debut with a fresh and compelling track titled, “Keep Coming Back” produced by Kwesi Lu. The single is a unique fusion of Afro-Dancehall and Pop. The track also showcases Sharlene’s ability to blend infectious rhythms with emotionally charged storytelling.
“Keep Coming Back” tells a story we all know too well, the seductive pull of a love that’s no good for us. Through her lyrics, Sharleene digs into the painful yet magnetic cycle of toxic relationships, where love is laced with heartbreak and unfulfilled promises. She captures the vulnerability of being drawn back to something destructive, even when the damage is clear.
The song’s Afrobeat groove and dancehall edge create a rich backdrop for Sharleene’s powerful voice, conveying both strength and longing.
Follow her journey and stream her music on all platforms here as she steadily captivates audiences with her sound @simplysharleene
"Soldier" by Dax & Tom MacDonald: When the Battlefield is Your Heart
Not all wars are fought with guns. Some battles are waged in traffic jams, in empty kitchens, or in the hollow space between a scream and a whisper at 2 a.m. Dax’s latest single “Soldier” featuring Tom MacDonald doesn’t march with a drumbeat of victory; it crawls, it scratches, it survives. Written for anyone wrestling with life’s demons—the internal kind, the ones that don’t wear uniforms—this track is an anthem for the weary, but somehow, it sounds like home.
There’s something relentlessly human about Dax’s voice—each syllable feels like a handshake that lasts just long enough to make things awkward, and it’s perfect. The guy knows how to drag you into a story like an uninvited but necessary guest to his emotional battlefield. The collaboration with MacDonald is wild in its simplicity; their verses don’t clash but seem to nod at one another, like two drifters sharing a cigarette at dawn. Is it a conversation between friends? Or adversaries? Hard to say, but that’s what makes it hang heavy in the air.
“Soldier” by Dax & Tom MacDonald: When the Battlefield is Your Heart
The lyrics themselves, given life in a single take, are an endurance test. You can almost feel Dax catching his breath between each line, which seems fitting for a song about fighting invisible wars. It’s not polished, but it begs the question—should it be? Would you put a bandage on a scar that tells its own story?
Strangely, the song reminds me of a torn Polaroid photo. A picture that was meant to be discarded, but tells a better story because it’s ripped in half. It’s jagged where it needs to be, imperfect but raw.
What happens when a soldier runs out of battles? Maybe that’s a question for December 6th, 2024.
Heaven Awaits "Reborn in the Spirit": The Messy Transformation of Faith and Doubt
The moment Heaven Awaits drops “Reborn in the Spirit,” you can almost feel an invisible crack in the atmosphere, where the sacred meets the mundane, and somehow, both seem to borrow each other’s clothes. I wasn’t expecting that from a song title that sounds like something you’d find etched on a 16th-century church bell, but there’s a modern glow to this track that is unmistakable.
The song wrestles openly with heavy topics: going from “I don’t believe” to burning with a faith that you hope brings at least a little clarity—and not just more questions. But here’s the thing: transformation is messy, right? You’re not just neatly reborn as someone who’s got it all figured out. No, Heaven Awaits gets that. This is less about floating upwards on some spiritual elevator and more like flipping through every stage of an old-school photo album with each snapshot showing a different version of yourself.
Musically, it’s this blend of rock that’s almost restrained enough to feel playful, but then a pop hook swoops in and insists on sticking around in your brain like bubblegum on a shoe.
Lyrically, “Reborn in the Spirit” punches a question into the air before pulling you into that punch’s aftermath: can faith be found between the cracks of disbelief? What’s redemption like when it comes not as a blinding flash but as a slowly growing ember?
And if we’re going to strange cultural angles, the song reminds me a bit of Ennio Morricone’s spaghetti western scores, where wide open spaces are filled not with cowboys but with possibility. There’s that sweeping feel here, too. Except, instead of dusty plains and outlaws, it’s your spirit reckoning with something…romantic, almost.
By the time you get to the final chorus, you’re not just listening; you’re inhaling.
Retaining the Mystery: The Only Objects' 'Access Will Be Retained' Review
No one expects an avant-garde power trio from South Australia to write the soundtrack to a world we’re all too afraid to admit we’re living in. Yet here come The Only Objects with “Access Will Be Retained,” daring us to stare into the awkward digital abyss—if there’s even an “abyss” left to stare at, or has it just been flattened into a loop?
Patrick Lang’s angsty, half-dissociated vocals float above this kaleidoscopic universe like someone trying to tune an old radio in a storm. The synths are tectonic plates shifting, and Zacc Breheny’s bass seems to pump both blood and oil, gritty, raw, yet too knowing, too precise not to feel orchestrated somehow. It’s a begging and a demand—are we surviving or performing survival?
At the heart of it all is Jack Degenhart’s saxophone. Never has an instrument sounded more like a frenzied, bird-like question mark crashing into tall buildings made of shattered memories. Brushed with an almost free jazz meltdown, his squalls turn dissonance into anthem, anarchistic yet celebratory. And really, isn’t that the flavor of today’s chaos? Control versus collapse, head-to-head, bodies swirling in the whirlwind.
Retaining the Mystery: The Only Objects’ ‘Access Will Be Retained’ Review
Thematically, the song lives in a state of suspended crisis—can we forget the futures we were promised, or are we still waiting for them while skipping backwards? Sam Menzel’s drums maintain a militaristic precision like a heartbeat trapped in suspense, refusing resolution.
If Orwell had a garage band with Laurie Anderson on synths and some wild jazz cats from the future, it might still not sound like this, but they’d surely be jealous.
Leaving here feels unsolved, a question of choice vs inevitability. When you say “Access Will Be Retained,” it sounds less like a guarantee and more like a trap.
"Heart Beat" by Jehnniel: The Sonic Echo of Unfinished Novels
The first thing you might not expect? “Heart Beat” by Jehnniel moves like a cloud that both hides and reveals the sun depending on where you stand. If you’re looking for straight lines or answers drawn in pencil, look elsewhere. But if you’re in the mood for sonic ambiguity—the sort that sits between a sigh and a shout—you’re where you need to be.
Jehnnniel, whose voice feels like it’s escaping from some parallel emotional universe, delves into the messiness of human judgments in this one. Prejudice, accusations, misunderstandings—this song isn’t a manifesto; it’s more of a slow exhalation. The weight of words unspoken seems to float within the melodies, and the pulsating electronic layers seem less about being indie pop and more about reflecting the sterile, often synthetic way modern culture boxes humans into categories. Yes, categories. Like lunch boxes, but more suffocating.
Her voice—dreamy? Certainly. Calming? Maybe. But it’s not pacification; it’s an invitation to question soft power. The beat, it pulses like an echo of the street protests you only half-remember attending, and somehow Jehnniel captures the essence of both vulnerability and quiet protest. London’s cold mornings probably played a role here somewhere, but I digress.
“Heart Beat” by Jehnniel: The Sonic Echo of Unfinished Novels
There’s a moment in “Heart Beat” that feels like the ending of a novel where you don’t quite close the book because you don’t feel done. No bombastic finales. Just an inkling, a sense that the story… lingers.
Let me say this—there are songs you skip through, and then there’s this. It doesn’t demand to be understood Instead, it asks, in its own judiciously subtle way, if you would like to spend a little longer trying to understand anything at all.
"You Found Me" by Double Ace EMPA: The Curious Quietness of a Revival
Did anyone expect Arne, Dutch lyricist-cum-theatre wielder, to crash into the musical cosmos at 52? Probably not. If life’s a stage, Double Ace EMPA just brought the fog machines, the spotlights, and a digital drum pad, cranked to something altogether otherworldly.
“You Found Me” rides a strange high—a concoction of rhythm and stamina where melody meets a curious quietness, then spins into a revival of self. If dreams were kaleidoscopes melting into glasswork, this track would be their soundtrack. Arie offers us sparse yet profound vocals that hover above electronic undercurrents like ghosts unsure whether to haunt you or hand you the map to your next move. It’s that hesitance, that edge between chasing something and wondering if it’s been chasing you all along, that makes this work so absurdly relatable. And yet, the chorus feels like a sunrise you didn’t expect—perhaps coming from around the corner of a broken boulevard.
Lyricism that feels specific yet universal—that’s the trick here. Much like examining Magritte’s paintings for a single, elusive sky, Double Ace EMPA nudges us toward finding the soft places within us where self-doubt festers. The synth buildups almost suggest a heartbeat, or maybe a hesitant question: Can you actually chase your dream if you’re too scared to catch it?
“You Found Me” by Double Ace EMPA: The Curious Quietness of a Revival
It’s experimental, yet effortlessly smooth—a paradox wrapped in a foot-tapping vibe, dipped in electronic wonder. Doubt, forgotten or confronted, is sonically dissected under a microscope as soft female vocals wrap like a swirling mist around your thoughts, but this time it’s you pulling the levers.
Let’s face it, some people find themselves by accident. Others? They just keep recording until all that’s left is honesty.
Brains are a strange thing, aren’t they? All those neurons firing wildly in some sort of chaotic ballet, every thought a hurricane held hostage inside the soft tissue. Bob Saganas, medical doctor by day, stringed sorcerer by night, seems to have plugged himself directly into the grey matter with his latest single, “Grey Matter.” It’s an instrumental journey, but perhaps there’s more said without words than most are capable of expressing in full-on dialogue. You can feel the synapses snap when you dive into these rhythms.
“Grey Matter” doesn’t ask for permission to enter your mind space; it just sort of strolls in like it owns the place. Let’s talk about the guitars. Bob Saganas has this knack for blending math rock precision with unexpected flamenco flickers—two styles that typically aren’t even in the same room, much less engaging in conversation over tapas. An 8-string guitar has never sounded this self-assured, riffing like a manic puzzle piece that somehow just…fits. You can almost picture the brain itself moving with each rhythmic shift, neurons firing like arpeggios across the fretboard.
Neuro-Riffs: Bob Saganas Plugs into ‘Grey Matter’
And then, there’s Achilles Papagrigoriou on drums. He’s not just keeping time; the man is wrestling time into submission. The rhythm could carry this track without any ornamentation, but Saganas layers in bass and synths like strange chemical compounds trying to figure out if they should bond or combust.
The thing about this track? It’s surgical. It could be dissecting the tissue of your thoughts, fracturing your expectations. Inspired by the very organ that ponders its existence, this piece somehow reconfigures concepts of thought and music. Does the brain listen, or does it only process?
Your neurons will ask the question long after the track stops spinning.
Dream River" by Natalie Bouloudis: Where Memories Flow and Time Drowns
Time isn’t sand slipping through your fingers. It’s more like a river—a “Dream River”, perhaps—carving out canyons, forging paths, and drowning things you thought would always stay afloat. Natalie Bouloudis understands this in her bones, if her latest single is anything to go by. Her voice doesn’t just sing; it commands time itself, bending it in ways that leave you wondering if you’ve heard something ancient or yet to be born.
“Dream River” flows (forgive the obvious connection, but it does) with gothic folk currents, pulling you deep with brooding drums from Hannah Stacey that beat like a soul’s propeller, propelling the narrative forward. Luke Waterfield isn’t interested in being “lovely”. His strings don’t weep, they wail—part joy, part anguish, like calling out to something you might not want coming back. Maybe a memory.
Lyrically, Bouloudis takes you somewhere uncomfortable, yet familiar. Like walking through an attic full of unfinished diaries or staring at an old clock that always seems like it’s five minutes ahead, taunting your lateness. Her words twist, offering poetic punches about love, loss, and the slow march of time—because let’s face it, no one’s running here.
Dream River” by Natalie Bouloudis: Where Memories Flow and Time Drowns
Luke Novak’s bass sits solid underneath this swirl, like a riverbed under the current—constantly there, but rarely noticed until the water pools and you’re forced to reckon with it.
There’s something cinematic here, like a forgotten Tarkovsky film or those strange paintings where the faces are just skulls with hats on them. Dark, reflective, yet somehow full of life painstakingly twisted out of the shadows.
When the song ends, you’re left wondering: can we ever outrun the river, or are we all just getting washed downstream?
Cedar Compher's 'Coming Home' Takes You on a Journey of Healing
You ever try to hug a ghost? That’s the feeling Cedar Compher hand-delivers with “Coming Home.” But don’t get me wrong—it’s not spooky. It’s the warmth of finally confronting those half-lit corners of your heart you’d rather leave forgotten. In some ways, this EP feels like both a confession and an antidote.
Cedar’s journey—literally and sonically—takes on the shape of a slow exhale. Traveling across the country in a van just to be alone with oneself, only to then release songs brimming with human ache, is a kind of irony that feels like standing in the rain just to wash off emotion. You listen, and you’re in Spokane. But also not. You’re in that liminal space between guilt and grace, teetering on the edge of healing.
The instrumentation? Lush enough to feel like wearing headphones made of fog. But what lingers most is the simplicity—every melody feels like it’s being handed to you, not for your ears, but for your insides. Folk-pop snuggled inside indie warmth, without overstating its own beauty. Healing, in the end, can be quiet.
Cedar Compher’s ‘Coming Home’ Takes You on a Journey of Healing
Themes of loneliness? Yeah. Shame? Absolutely. Cedar has a way of drawing them both out without screaming. It’s more like opening a door for them but leaving them on the threshold. There’s a bit of spirituality here too, not in a “church” sense, but in the you-versus-your-demons way that has you questioning what comes after that last chord fades.
You know that moment when you forget where you parked, but you’re oddly okay with it? That’s “Coming Home.” Cedar wrote it while traveling, but it sounds like an arrival.
DJ Mic Smith Announces Collaboration With Shatta Wale And Medikal
Ghanaian DJ and producer DJ Mic Smith is set to release his new single, Liquor, on November 13th, 2024, featuring Ghanaian superstars Shatta Wale and Medikal. The award-winning DJ shared the announcement on social media, calling the track “new vibes” and “personal,” and referring to his collaborators as “brothers.”
Known for his dynamic collaborations, DJ Mic Smith has consistently produced hits, including Jama with Nigerian star Patoranking and Lil Shaker, Yenkor featuring Kwesi Arthur, and Blessings with Mr Eazi. His extensive list of collaborators also includes CKay, Blaqbonez, Pappy Kojo, T’neeya, Kweku Afro, and J.Derobie, who joined him on the track Juju.
Liquor marks DJ Mic Smith’s second single of the year, following Flashy with Beeztrap KOTM, and his third release overall, as he made his production debut earlier with Adina’s Emergency. DJ Mic Smith has previously worked with both Shatta Wale and Medikal.
ABOUT DJ MIC SMITH
Michael Owusu Smith, popularly known as DJ Mic Smith, is a renowned club and event DJ who also produces music. Now based in the United States, DJ Mic Smith captivated audiences on YFM’s drive-time show The DrYve and was a resident DJ at Accra’s iconic Twist NightClub. Known for his dynamic presence as an artist DJ, he has performed alongside stars like E.L, Runtown, Shatta Wale, and Medikal. His talent has also shone on major stages, including the 2022 Global Citizen Festival held in Ghana.
Blazing a Trail of Rock and Americana in 'Mile Wide'
Trickshooter Social Club is breaking the mold with their latest single, “Mile Wide” – a high-octane, genre-blending anthem that celebrates the rebellious spirit of rock and roll. Hailing from Chicago’s thriving Americana scene, the band, led by guitarist Larry Liss and frontman Steve Simoncic, have crafted a sound that seamlessly fuses blues, alt-country, and gritty garage rock.
“Mile Wide” is a rallying cry for breaking free from self-imposed limitations. The lyrics tackle the restlessness that comes with the daily grind, daring listeners to “blow a hole a mile wide” in the boundaries they’ve created for themselves. This sense of liberation is mirrored in the track’s powerful musicality – a driving rhythm section, razor-sharp guitar riffs, and Simoncic’s raw, emotive vocals that convey both swagger and vulnerability.
Trickshooter Social Club’s approach to songwriting has an undeniable charm. They blend the unapologetic attitude of 80s rock with a modern production sheen, creating a sound that’s both instantly familiar and refreshingly new. The instrumental arrangement is a particular standout, featuring a soaring guitar solo and the unexpected inclusion of a brass section in the chorus, which lends the track a warm, Americana-tinged edge.
In “Mile Wide,” Trickshooter Social Club has captured the timeless allure of rock and roll, while putting their own distinctive spin on the genre. Fans of The Black Keys and Wilco will find a lot to love in this track, which is equally suited for introspective listening and raucous live performances. With a firm grasp on where rock has been and where it’s headed, the band solidifies their place as a must-listen act in the Americana and alternative rock scenes.
