Ooberfuse Releases Peace Song From Peace's Birthplace
There are songs that are written about peace, and then there are songs that are born of the struggle for it.
A new single “To Love To Peace Today“, recorded in the heart of Bethlehem, is unequivocally the latter. A collaboration between musicians Ooberfuse from the UK and the Palestinian city, the track is a raw and honest plea for peace, recorded in a place where the word carries a weight that few of us can truly comprehend.
“To Love To Peace Today” was recorded at Soul Bar, a small but vital hub for the local music scene in Bethlehem. It’s a place where musicians gather to create, to connect, and to keep their culture alive in the face of immense challenges.
The recording itself is a proof to the power of music to transcend borders and to build bridges between people.
The track features a blend of Western and Middle Eastern instruments, with the mournful, evocative sound of the oud weaving its way through the arrangement, complemented by keyboards, percussion, and guitars.
The result is a sound that is both familiar and foreign, a sonic representation of the collaboration that brought it into being.
The message of the song is simple, yet profound. It’s a call for peace, not as a distant, abstract ideal, but as a present and urgent need.
Ooberfuse are not just singing about peace; they are singing from a place where peace is a daily, personal struggle. They are reminding us that Bethlehem is not just a symbol on a Christmas card, but a living, breathing community of people who yearn for a life free from conflict.
The emotional weight of “To Love To Peace Today” is palpable, a direct transmission from the heart of a city that has known both profound holiness and profound hardship.
A song like this has a certain permanence. It’s a document of a specific time and place, a snapshot of a community’s hopes and fears. It’s a reminder that music can be more than just entertainment; it can be a form of protest, a source of solace, and a catalyst for change.
Ooberfuse simply wanted to listen, to connect, and to create something beautiful in a place where beauty is often overshadowed by conflict. And in doing so, they have created a song that is both a work of art and a powerful act of solidarity.
The production is intentionally unpolished, preserving the raw energy of the live performance. You can hear the room, the subtle interactions between the musicians, the very air of Bethlehem itself.
This is not a slick, studio-produced track. It’s something far more authentic, and far more powerful. It’s a song that invites you to listen, not just with your ears, but with your heart, to feel the vibrations of the city in every note.
It’s easy to become cynical about the state of the world. It’s easy to feel helpless in the face of so much conflict and division. But a song like this is a small act of defiance against that cynicism.
Ooberfuse Releases Peace Song From Peace’s Birthplace
It’s a reminder that even in the darkest of times, the human spirit can still create something beautiful, something hopeful, something that has the power to connect us to one another.
It’s a song that asks us to stop looking away, to pay attention, and to listen to the voices of those who are too often silenced.
This is not a song that will top the charts or win any awards. But its value cannot be measured in streams or sales.
Its value lies in its honesty, its authenticity, and its unwavering belief in the power of music to make a difference. It’s a song that will stay with you long after the final notes have faded, a song that will make you think, and a song that will, hopefully, inspire you to add your own voice to the call for peace.
In the end, this is a song about hope. It’s a hope that is not naive or blind, but a hope that is hard-won and fiercely held.
It’s a hope that is born of the struggle for a better world, a world where peace is not just a dream, but a reality for all. And that is a hope that we all should share.
This is a song that matters, not because of what it says, but because of where it comes from, and the spirit in which it was made.
Listening to Amy Jay’s latest album “MNEMONICS” is a bit like discovering a stack of sticky notes you wrote to yourself during a fever dream, only to find they make perfect, terrifying sense in the cold light of a Tuesday morning. It’s a record that doesn’t just ask for your attention; it pulls up a chair, sits remarkably close, and asks why you’ve been holding your breath for the last ten minutes.
This isn’t music for parties, unless your parties involve staring at the ceiling and contemplating the crushing weight of entropy. Jay, a New York-based artist with a voice that manages to be both pliable and cutting, constructs a sonic architecture that feels less like a studio production and more like a textured hallway in the mind. The crew of musicians involved Sam Skinner, Andrew Freedman, Jeremy McDonald, Margaux, Jason Burger, and Jordan Rose creates a backdrop that breathes. It’s organic, shifting from indie-rock grit to alt-folk introspection without ever feeling jarring.
The album opens with “How The Mind Can Be A Trap,” a title so direct it feels like a diagnosis. It captures that paralysis of overthinking, the mental static that feels eerily similar to the hum of a refrigerator in an empty house a sound you ignore until you suddenly can’t. There’s a frantic energy here, a need to escape the loop. It reminds me of a time I watched a pigeon walk in circles for twenty minutes, convinced it was looking for something profound when it was probably just confused by the pavement. We are all just walking in circles, aren’t we?
The Fever Dream Clarity of Amy Jay’s “MNEMONICS”
Tracks like “Margins” and “The Critic” dig into the “shadow self,” that jungian basement where we keep our anxiety and the erosion of self-trust. But rather than fighting these monsters, Jay seems to suggest we invite them to tea. The music encourages integration over exorcism.
Then there is “The Little Things,” which captures the bizarre duality of love: how the very specific way someone chews their toast can be the most annoying sound on earth and, simultaneously, the sound of home. It cuts through the romance to find the grit of shared existence. Similarly, “Floral Comfort” uses the imagery of tending to plants to ward off the winter blues, a tactic I’ve tried often, usually resulting in a very watered dead fern and a lingering sense of melancholy.
The Fever Dream Clarity of Amy Jay’s “MNEMONICS”
By the time the album arrives at “Compassion,” the knots begin to loosen. The record moves from the frantic noise of “Back To What’s Natural” and the nostalgia of “Can’t Go Back” toward a necessary stillness. It stops trying to scream over the internal din and instead offers a radical softness.
“MNEMONICS” works because it mirrors the chaotic, non-linear way we actually heal. It’s a reminder that sometimes the only way out is to stop moving. Does peace come from winning the war against your brain, or does it come from simply putting down the weapons?
Cool JB Releases Spiritual-Grounded Afrofusion Album UNIVERSE
Rising Nigerian artist Cool JB has officially unveiled his new full-length album, UNIVERSE — a genre-blending Afrofusion project where street reality meets spiritual reflection. The album expands Cool JB’s artistic universe with a sound that fuses contemporary African rhythms, Yoruba storytelling, and emotionally grounded songwriting.
Crafted for both mainstream listeners and culture-driven audiences, UNIVERSE explores a wide spectrum of human experience: love, betrayal, toxic friendships, divine intervention, ambition, financial struggle, and emotional survival. The album strikes a thoughtful balance between commercial appeal and introspective depth, making it suitable for radio, playlists, and visual storytelling.
The project features standout records including “Toxic Relationship,” “HAPPINESS,” “KAKU,” “MY TIME,” and “CHOCHOCHO,” all built with infectious hooks and street-born energy poised for crossover success. Meanwhile, tracks like “GOD IS ABLE,” “FEARS,” “WABILAHI TAOFEEQ,” and “LOVE IN SAPA” lean into spiritual resonance and emotional vulnerability, showcasing Cool JB’s ability to connect beyond the surface.
Written in a mix of English, Yoruba, and Nigerian street slang, the album’s authenticity is rooted in lived experience. Cool JB’s raw but intentional storytelling brings the themes to life with clarity and cultural weight. UNIVERSE also features key collaborations with rising star Inspiraystonner, whose contributions on “SHOULDER,” “FAMILY MATTER,” and “LOVE IN SAPA” add emotional texture and dynamic contrast.
Designed as a journey rather than a playlist, UNIVERSE moves seamlessly from club-ready anthems built for nightlife and social media to deeper, reflective tracks meant for late-night listening. Each song presents a new chapter in Cool JB’s evolving narrative of resilience, spiritual grounding, and personal growth.
With growing streaming traction and increasing attention from tastemakers, Cool JB is positioning himself as a powerful new voice in Afrofusion — an artist capable of bridging street realism with globally minded sound.
UNIVERSE is now available on all major streaming platforms, with visuals, press materials, and exclusive merchandise accessible via Lukhasstar.com
At just sixteen years old, Newbury, Massachusetts indie-pop artist Ava Valianti brings an exciting and sharp mix of honesty, energy, and youthful chaos that feels both incredibly refreshing and deeply relatable!
The track brilliantly captures the wild tension between trying to be perfect and fully accepting the messy, unpolished parts of yourself. With its edgy guitars, bright infectious melodies, and Ava’s warm, expressive vocals, Hot Mess finds genuine power in imperfection and fearlessly turns self-awareness into something bold and empowering!
Inspired by her desire to stop hiding her flaws and embrace authenticity, Ava wrote the song as a jubilant celebration of being real, even when life feels completely out of control. It marks an exciting new chapter in her artistic growth, showcasing a confident, lively side of her talent that’s absolutely captivating! Fans have already connected strongly with its infectious energy, making it one of her most thrilling releases yet!
“Hot Mess” is such a vibrant, empowering anthem! What was the spark behind writing this track? I really loved writing “Hot Mess” because the inspiration came from feeling ashamed of being such a mess, but the end result was something way more positive. I always felt like I had to be more put-together when presenting myself to the world, but once I embraced my imperfections, that’s when I started to feel more free!
How does “Hot Mess” celebrate all those wild, messy, and beautiful parts of ourselves that we often try to hide?
It doesn’t shy away from the parts of ourselves that are messy and abnormal, and leans into being authentically who you are. That’s what so special about this song to me – embracing being unique! Flaws exist in every person, so why not accept your imperfection?
The mix of hard-edged guitars and your captivating vocals creates such a bold sound—how did you craft this sonic energy? I really wanted to have a 2000s/2010s sound, and listened to a lot of Paramore for inspiration! I wrote this song on my electric guitar so from the moment I created it my producers and I knew it had a pulse driving it musically. It really just grew from there, and I love the end result so much!
I really wanted to have a 2000s/2010s sound,
How does this single fit into the larger story of your debut EP petunias and your artistic journey? I think that this song is very much a time capsule of my life at the time in which I wrote it. It was a super turbulent time in my life, where I was at a crossroads of self-consciousness and self-acceptance. That shines through in the song, and fits into my artistic and lyrical style of internal exploration. I really love what this song represents for me, and think it fits well into my musical catalog! You’ve been evolving fast as an artist in 2025—how does “Hot Mess” show a new side of your musical personality? It’s quickly become one of my favorite songs to sing live because I’ve always written pretty sad songs, either just lyrically or with both the music and lyrics, so it was so fun to get to sing a happy song that has so much energy in it! I’ve really gotten to let loose and express more than ever, which has been great. What emotions or messages do you want fans to feel when they listen to “Hot Mess” loud and proud?
Just feeling proud and accepted no matter what. The message I want people to receive is that their limitations don’t need to define them, and that they can always feel free to express themselves exactly as they are.
What kind of reactions have you gotten from fans so far? Any favorite moments or surprises? I’ve been so thrilled and grateful to receive such positive feedback from people, and I really appreciate all the support I’ve gotten from everyone! I love singing this song and having the words sung back to me, it’s surreal and always a huge highlight for me!
What’s next after “Hot Mess”? Should we expect more anthems to add to your collection soon? Definitely! New songs are in the works and on the way, including one set up to be released this January! Make sure to check for more information coming out about that soon!
The journey of “a woman becoming” is now fully realized in sound. Dove Nicol, the compelling Sierra Leonean-born, Ghana-based artist, has officially released her debut self-titled EP, “Dove Nicol.”
Available now across all streaming platforms, the EP is a thoughtful, significant soundscape built around themes of identity, duality, self-discovery, and spiritual evolution. Far from standard romantic narratives, Dove Nicol offers listeners a nuanced exploration of personal growth and the complexities of becoming.
Seamlessly blending the soulful depth of R&B with the vibrant rhythms of Afrofusion, the EP establishes Dove Nicol as a unique voice capable of bridging continents and genres.
The project features seven carefully crafted tracks—“Ordinary, Water, Reckless, Sky, Higher, 396, and Love Back”—each contributing to what the artist describes as a sonic universe where healing and power coexist.
The core of the project explores self-discovery and spiritual evolution, positioning the artist as one unafraid to embrace both her “softness and fire.” The tracks craft a sophisticated sonic space where healing, vulnerability, and power coexist and define a new kind of strength.
“This project is about honouring all parts of who I am. It’s about the journey of self-discovery and spiritual evolution, and understanding that transformation doesn’t mean choosing between contradictions, but for me, it means embracing them,” Dove Nicol explains.
For fans of cross-continental R&B and innovative African music, Dove Nicol’s debut is a must-listen. With its blend of cross-cultural sounds and powerful personal narrative, the “Dove Nicol” EP is a definitive introduction to an artist ready to claim her space on the global stage.
Cali Tucker’s Holiday EP "Santa Baby" Sparkles With A Vegas Glow
Cali Tucker, a name that carries the weight of a country music dynasty, has gifted us a stocking stuffer of an EP, “Santa Baby“.
It’s a six-song collection of Christmas standards, but to dismiss it as just another holiday album would be a mistake.
This is a record with a story, a bittersweet tribute to a lost friend, and a showcase for a performer who is stepping into her own spotlight.
The EP arrives as Tucker is having a banner year, with millions of streams, radio play, and a successful touring show.
It’s a confident and polished release from an artist who is clearly on an upward trajectory.
The EP was produced by Ryan Whyte Maloney, a fellow contestant from their time on The Voice, who passed away earlier this year. Tucker’s dedication of the album to him adds a layer of emotional resonance to the project.
It’s a reminder that the music we often turn to for comfort and joy can also be a source of healing and remembrance. Knowing this backstory, the songs take on a different quality, a certain poignancy that might otherwise be missed.
The title track, “Santa Baby,” is a perfect opener. It’s a song that has been covered by countless artists, but Tucker makes it her own. Her rendition is sultry and playful, with a wink and a nod to the song’s materialistic desires.
It’s a performance that feels right at home in a Las Vegas showroom, where Tucker has become a headlining act. You can almost picture the stage lights and the clinking of glasses as she purrs her way through the lyrics.
It’s a confident and self-assured performance that sets the tone for the rest of the EP.
“Please Come Home for Christmas” is a soulful and heartfelt plea. The song, originally a hit for Charles Brown, is a bluesy Christmas standard, and Tucker’s version is full of longing and heartache.
Her voice has a warm, rich quality that is perfectly suited to the song’s melancholic mood. It’s a performance that showcases her vocal range and her ability to connect with the emotional core of a song. The production is sparse and tasteful, allowing Tucker’s voice to take center stage.
One of the most delightful surprises on the EP is the inclusion of “Mele Kalikimaka”. The song, with its Hawaiian-themed holiday cheer, is a playful and unexpected choice.
Tucker’s version has a light, breezy feel, with a ukulele and a gentle rhythm that transports you to a tropical paradise. It’s a fun and infectious performance that is sure to bring a smile to your face.
It’s a reminder that Christmas isn’t just about snow and sleigh bells; it can also be about sunshine and sand.
But the emotional centrepiece of the EP is Tucker’s rendition of “O Holy Night.” It’s a song that has been sung in churches and concert halls for centuries, and it’s a daunting task for any singer to take on.
Tucker’s version is a soaring and powerful performance that is full of reverence and awe. Her voice has a clear, bell-like quality that is perfectly suited to the song’s majestic melody. It’s a performance that is sure to give you goosebumps.
It’s a moment of pure, unadulterated beauty that reminds you of the true meaning of the holiday.
Cali Tucker’s Holiday EP “Santa Baby” Sparkles With A Vegas Glow
Tucker’s voice is full of warmth and nostalgia, and she sings with a genuine affection for the material.
These are songs that have been a part of our collective holiday consciousness for decades, and Tucker’s versions are a welcome addition to the canon.
“Santa Baby” is a small collection of songs, but it speaks volumes about Cali Tucker as an artist. It’s a record that is both personal and universal, a celebration of the holiday season that is also a tribute to a lost friend.
It’s a confident and polished release from a performer who is clearly comfortable in her own skin.
With her family legacy and her own undeniable talent, Cali Tucker is a name you’ll be hearing for years to come.
This EP is a wonderful introduction to her artistry, a Christmas gift that will keep on giving long after the decorations have been put away.
This EP is a delightful holiday treat, a perfect soundtrack for a season of joy and reflection.
You Don’t Believe Her”: A Song That Refused to Stay Silent
Some songs are carefully planned, while others burst into existence with unstoppable force. You Don’t Believe Her is absolutely the second type. The song emerged from deep frustration, painful memories, and a lifetime of witnessing survivors being ignored and doubted. It came to life in a moment of powerful emotion. A casual conversation with an older acquaintance, who questioned widely reported allegations against powerful men, provided the final push. For the artist, the feeling wasn’t just anger—it was genuine heartbreak. How could someone with daughters and granddaughters speak that way? What kind of message does that send to the women in his own family?
From that conversation, the first verse and chorus flooded out through tears and a feeling of shared anger felt by countless women. Decades of watching victims struggle to be believed—from Anita Hill to Christine Blasey Ford—created the urgency driving this track. The message comes through loud and clear: when you dismiss survivors in the news, the women in your own life are paying attention, and they understand far more than you realize.
Mixing rock energy, country influences, unfiltered vocals, and compelling storytelling, the song represents another fearless step for an artist who refuses to let genre limit emotional truth. You Don’t Believe Her isn’t simply a new release—it’s a powerful moment of confrontation and truth-telling that demands to be heard!
What was the inspiration behind “You Don’t Believe Her,” and what story or message are you conveying through this song?
The constant news of the Epstein list, Trump being found liable for rape (and bragging about sexual assault against women) but the men involved never facing accountability for these crimes has been taking a toll on a lot of us. It’s very hard to hear day after day. As my frustration grew over the summer, I was having a casual conversation with an older man, an acquaintance, when he said something dismissive about the allegations against Trump. “You don’t really believe he did those things, do you?” I was incensed. I saw red.
All I could think for the week following was, this man has daughters, granddaughters, and how would they ever feel safe going to him if they ever suffered something like that? Does he even realize he is destroying their faith in him when he says such things? I woke up one morning with this exchange still ringing in my ears, my rage was overwhelming me.
Tears started rolling down my face as I recalled how many times I’ve seen these stories throughout my life and it never seems to change. I’m 49 years old. I grew up in the eighties. I watched Anita Hill testify before Congress, and still Clarence Thomas sits on the Supreme Court. I watched Dr. Christine Blasey Ford testify, and still Brett Kavanaugh sits on the Supreme Court. Trump has been in the news since my childhood and his abuse of women is well documented.
Case after case after case. The years go by, the victims change, the behavior and the lack of accountability never does. Combine that with the horrific slander that victims face on social media and it’s too much. I keep saying “I didn’t want to write this song. I had to. It didn’t give me a choice.” This song didn’t come out of me, it came through me, as if the collective rage of every woman I know was screaming in my head as I found myself writing the first verse and chorus.
The message of the song is simple: When you say awful things about the survivors you see in the media, those women don’t hear you, but your daughters, granddaughters, nieces, mothers, every woman in your proximity is getting the message. You don’t believe her, why would you believe me?
How does “You Don’t Believe Her” reflect your current artistic style or personal experiences?
One of the most challenging things for getting my music out in front of people seems to be my inability to neatly fit into a single genre. There’s no one label that defines the style of my songs. I guess I’m not learning to adapt, because You Don’t Believe Her certainly checks a few boxes without fitting into a single pigeon hole.
I didn’t want to hold back on the emotion of this song at all, so there is definitely more of a rock element to the overall production, even though my voice seems to lean country. I knew I wanted to call on Michael again for the fiddle, but even with the twang that his sound brings the song does not sit squarely in the country genre.
My last single Known 3 Yrs definitely had more of a country vibe and I wanted to hold some of that for continuity’s sake, but I just can’t shake my love of hair bands and monster ballads, and this song absolutely called for every ounce of raw emotion that those influences bring to the table. When I sent the scratch track over to Andrew for the guitar tracks I said, “I think you know me by now. 80’s pop princess goes 90’s country with some hair band big guitar drama.” He absolutely delivered!
My last single Known 3 Yrs definitely had more of a country vibe and
Can you describe the creative process for this single, from writing to production?
I keep mentioning the raw emotion and that’s really the through line in this whole process. The morning I started writing the song I was literally sobbing. The song just overwhelmed me. By the next afternoon I had it pretty much done, lyrics and melody (which always arrive together for me. Never separately) and I had the changes mapped out on my guitar.
I said to my husband and best friend “I don’t think I can ever share this. But I feel like I have to.” I sent the scratch demo I had made in garage band to my bestie as we were departing from a visit. I said, “Give it a listen in the car and tell me what you think” and we went our separate ways. I hadn’t even made it to the next exit on the Thruway when she texted me back and Siri read the message back to me, “Girl!!! The world needs this song. Do it!”
I tidied up the scratch track (barely) and sent it off to Chris for the drums before I could chicken out, knowing that if I started investing in the project I wouldn’t walk away. One of the things I love most about working with Chris is he really has a feel for underscoring and accenting the sub text in my lyrics. He always seems to tap in to the feelings behind the lyrics. I sent him the scratch with my apologies.
The scratch vocal was really just out of control screlting. (Technical term we classically trained vocalists like to use, when a singer doesn’t just belt, but screams the belt and it’s not a flattering thing!). The song was so new, I hadn’t even had the chance to pace my emotions, so it was really overly dramatic. But it helped him even more to build up the intensity I needed. Every time I listen to the bridge of the song I’m glad I sent him that awful version of myself screlting away, because it gave him plenty to work with!
I don’t usually give the guys specific instructions. I’m not a great instrumentalist. They are! So I let them do their job. But there was one specific request I had for the drums. I knew that coming out of the first verse before the chorus I wanted that pause to hang out for an uncomfortably long time, and then I wanted the harshest, most violent crack on the snare he could give me on the pick up to the chorus. “It should sound like a gunshot and feel like someone punched you in the gut”.
How do your musical influences shape the sound and mood of “You Don’t Believe Her”?
I was heavily influenced by the female country artists of the 90’s. Martina McBride’s big vocals on songs like Independence Day that really cut with a harsh message, Reba McEntire’s fearless commitment to putting out songs like Fancy and She Thinks His Name Was John. Their influence definitely shaped how and why I put this song together.
When I was just a kid, if you asked me what my favorite song was, I almost always answered Shadows of the Night by Pat Benatar. I’ve always felt energized by that song. Working on the vocals for this track, my engineer convinced me I really needed to lay down some doubles. I was hesitant. I’m not super experienced recording. I record all the vocals myself at home. I do my own editing and comping. I’ve learned a lot since my first attempts at How Dare She, mostly I’ve learned to trust what Matt tells me to do!
So I sent him four sets of doubles on the lead and four back up parts. It’s always been a running joke among my fellow singer friends that I am epically bad at singing harmony and back up vocals, but I’ve really surprised myself over these last four songs. I’m starting to enjoy the process of layering all the vocal tracks. And Matt was right (of course). He mixed them beautifully. I totally feel like a rock star. The doubles definitely brought a bigger feel to the song. I don’t think I’m on par with Pat Benatar, but that’s what I’m aspiring to!I asked for it that way because that’s exactly how the song came to me the morning I wrote it. As I mentioned, I was crying, jotting down the first verse and as I wandered around my bedroom wondering “where is this song going?” I suddenly felt like someone punched me and the realization of all my anger crystallized. I just wanted to scream the line “You Don’t Believe Her. Why would you believe me?” That’s how it came to me and that’s how I wanted to send it into the world.
How are you planning to promote “You Don’t Believe Her”? Any upcoming performances or videos?
I do have a lyric video that will be dropping with the release! This is the first time I’ve collaborated with someone to create one. I’ve been posting a lot on social media and honestly, I don’t have to look far for material to use. Every day brings another headline, another perpetrator, another disappointing reaction from the justice system.
I’ve been scouring comments for the kinds of awful statements that inspired this song. I spent over an hour one night, lying in bed taking screenshots of the most demeaning and offensive things that actual people posted about the survivors of Epstein’s trafficking. Honestly, I really wish my song wasn’t relevant. I wish I could write something pleasant right now. But pulling these screenshots and posting them (names blacked out of course, though I don’t feel they deserve anonymity) is all the justification I need for my rage filled song. I guess I should thank the internet trolls for the marketing materials!
What can listeners expect next from you following this single? Are there plans for more releases or an album?
I have two songs currently in process. After the first of the year I plan to release something light hearted and just a tad snarky. (If you go snooping in my TikTok profile, you just might find it!) It’s too much to carry the weight of all that is going on with us every day. I want my music to be thought provoking and impactful, but sometimes we need a break. Some times we just don’t have the energy and that’s ok. Hint. Hint.
This little tune is another sharp turn stylistically into a different lane, but after that I have a real country tune lined up. There better not any debate as whether that one is “country enough” for some folks! Because I’m going to lean in to my rural roots hard on that one. I’m a firm believer in serving the song, not any one genre. Like I said, I’m confusing people because I don’t like limiting myself. As a songwriter and a singer, I like to give the song what it needs.
What does releasing new music mean to you at this time in your career?
Right now I’m just trying to build a catalogue so people have plenty to hear from me. I waited a long time to have this opportunity, and I don’t intend to waste it. I’m not topping any charts or setting the world on fire with streaming numbers (yet), but just getting a single comment from a listener on social media saying that my song made a difference in their day keeps me going. It’s easy to feel lost in the void, so knowing that my music is reaching someone feels like a lifeline, even if it’s just one person a day. That’s what it’s all about.
How do you balance your musical inspirations with your unique artistic voice?
I kinda think I might have touched on this above!! Like I said, I try to serve each song and bring to it what I feel will best serve the message and the mood. I have a pretty eclectic range of influences, not only from my eighties childhood of pop and hair bands to the 90’s country, but I’ve studied classically. I’ve sung in operas and musical theatre productions. I love the mathematical perfection and symmetry of Mozart and the sweeping lyricism of Puccini. I’ve often felt Puccini and hair bands have a lot in common. Several of these influences share a common element: they tend to lean on story telling. So I guess, each single for me is a three to four minute theatrical, albeit auditory, production. To tell the story, I just pull the tools available from each of these respective tool boxes as needed!
Exzenya's Latest Single Turns Personal Pain into Compelling Art
Till I’m Drunk & Confused by Exzenya is a deeply honest and emotionally powerful single that brilliantly captures the exact moment when denial finally shatters and the truth can no longer be pushed away! Inspired by years of observing how people use alcohol to soften emotional weight, the song explores the destructive cycle of avoidance, blame, and the painful clarity that often arrives long after the moment has passed.
Drawing from genuine personal history including the profound impact of an alcoholic parent and patterns witnessed across multiple generations, the track reflects a lifetime of observation about how people turn to substances not out of addiction, but as an escape that frequently causes even more damage than the pain they were desperately trying to numb.
Built on bright acoustic textures, warm ukulele melodies, and an unexpectedly uplifting musical foundation, the song creates a striking and intentional contrast between light sound and heavy emotional truth! This powerful contrast mirrors real life perfectly: the cheerful exterior people present to the world while internally wrestling with regret, accountability, and emotional fallout. The single also impressively showcases Exzenya’s genre-fluid style, seamlessly blending acoustic pop, folk-pop intimacy, and cinematic storytelling into something truly special and completely captivating!
Already gaining strong early traction and connecting deeply with listeners for its unflinching honesty, Till I’m Drunk & Confused marks an exciting and bold new chapter for Exzenya one where music, psychology, and lived experience come together in a quietly powerful way that really resonates!
This is vulnerability transformed into compelling art, and it hits with surprising emotional force!
What inspired “Till I’m Drunk & Confused,” and how does it capture a moment of raw emotion or vulnerability in your life? “’Till I’m Drunk & Confused” was inspired by years of watching how people use alcohol — not necessarily in a destructive, addicted way, but as a coping mechanism that ends up creating far more damage than it hides. I have young adult sons, I was young once, and I’ve seen the same pattern repeat
itself across generations: when someone turns to alcohol or substances to soften the edges of pain or confusion, the fallout almost always becomes bigger than the problem they were trying to escape.
You see it all the time — one drink turns into three, emotions get louder, arguments get messier, and suddenly the problem someone wanted to avoid becomes twice as big. Not because of addiction, but because alcohol becomes the shortcut to avoiding the truth, and then the catalyst for finally having to face it.
I also grew up watching this dynamic unfold firsthand. My biological father was an alcoholic, and alcohol destroyed almost every relationship in his life — with his siblings, his parents, my mother, and eventually us kids. I’ve seen how drinking can erode marriages, damage families, and trigger the same emotional explosions in people of all ages. It’s not always addiction — sometimes it’s simply using substances to cope, and then realizing that coping mechanism created the very damage someone was trying to avoid.
And I’ve seen it play out in younger generations too — not because they lack maturity, but because they’re overwhelmed, hurting, or trying to numb something they don’t want to feel. Anyone — young, middle-aged, older — can fall into the same cycle. It has nothing to do with age or emotional immaturity. It’s about avoidance, accountability, denial, misplaced blame, and the painful moment when someone finally recognizes their own role in the collapse.
That’s the core of this song.
It’s about that quiet, gut-wrenching moment when someone finally admits:
“The alcohol wasn’t the problem. I was.”
The lyrics sit inside that realization — the moment the excuses fall apart, the denial breaks, and someone has to confront the truth they’ve been avoiding: the loss wasn’t caused by the substance, it was caused by their own choices, their own avoidance, their own self-sabotage.
The bright acoustic instrumentation — the ukulele, the open strumming, the upbeat melodic flow — stands in deliberate contrast to the heaviness underneath the words. That contrast reflects a very real human pattern: people often present a light, cheerful, “everything’s fine” exterior to the world, sometimes even to themselves, while internally they’re unraveling, blaming themselves, replaying what went wrong, and carrying the weight of decisions they can’t take back. The instrumentation mirrors that emotional split — the outside that looks okay, and the inside that’s falling apart.
“’Till I’m Drunk & Confused” is about the emotional hangover that arrives long after the literal one: the moment of accountability, the painful clarity, and the realization that numbing the pain created the exact damage someone was desperate to avoid. It’s a song about truth finally breaking through, self-awareness arriving too late, and recognizing that the hardest part of healing is admitting the truth — especially when the truth is you.
How does this single showcase your genre-fluid style, blending pop, R&B, and soul with cinematic storytelling? “’Till I’m Drunk & Confused” is a prime example of the kind of genre-fluid storytelling that defines the project as a whole. The track blends the warmth of acoustic pop, the intimacy of folk-pop, and the emotional detail often found in singer-songwriter music, but the delivery is cinematic — every melodic choice, every shift in vocal phrasing, and every lyrical turn builds like a scene unfolding in real time.
The instrumentation uses clean acoustic guitars and ukulele textures, giving the track an instantly familiar, almost sunny feel, while the vocal delivery carries a deeper emotional weight. That contrast creates a film-like quality: the sound feels bright and open, but the story between the lines is heavy, reflective, and quietly devastating. This duality — light sonic framing over darker emotional truth — is one of the signature elements across much of the catalog.
Instead of following one fixed genre lane, the song moves through several emotional spaces at once:
• Pop clarity in the melody and hook
• Folk-pop intimacy in the acoustic arrangement
• Cinematic tension in the pacing and emotional build
• Soul-inflected phrasing in the moments where the vocal softens to reveal vulnerability
Singer-songwriter storytelling that feels lived-in and observational instead of fictional or stylized
The result is a track that doesn’t sit neatly inside one category — it lives at the intersection of multiple moods and styles, shaped by lived observations, psychological insight, and a storytelling voice that treats every lyric like a camera shot.
“’Till I’m Drunk & Confused” is genre-fluid not because it tries to mix styles for the sake of it, but because the emotional truth of the story demands a fluid approach: part confession, part reckoning, part cinematic release.
The result is a track that doesn’t sit neatly inside one category — it lives at the intersection of multiple moods and styles
Can you walk us through the songwriting and production process for “Till I’m Drunk & Confused”? Any key influences or breakthroughs? “’Till I’m Drunk & Confused” began as a reflection on patterns witnessed over many years — in my own family, in relationships around me, and in the way alcohol often becomes the go-to escape long before the real problem is ever named. Part of the inspiration came from watching my youngest sons and the people in their world navigate early adulthood — the hurt, the pressure, the attempts to numb overwhelming feelings — and recognizing echoes of things I’d seen decades earlier in my father and in so many others across generations.
The actual writing moment happened while riding in the car with one of my sons after a trip, when he played Noah Kahan’s “Stick Season.” It wasn’t an instant revelation, but that song opened a door emotionally. Its honesty made space for the storyline behind “’Till I’m Drunk & Confused” to surface — the cycle where someone uses alcohol as a coping mechanism, avoids accountability, blames everything except themselves, and eventually has to face the truth they’ve been running from.
The lyrics came first. They poured out as a narrative built on observation, lived memory, and the emotional patterns that repeat themselves in people of all ages — not just the young. The song is about avoidance, self-sabotage, denial, and the painful clarity of realizing the damage wasn’t caused by the alcohol, but by the choices made behind it.
Once the words were in place, the music was created around them. The ukulele, the acoustic guitar, the bright, easy glide of the melody — all of it was intentionally chosen to contrast with the heaviness of the lyrics. That contrast mirrors real life: people often present lightness, humor, or calmness on the outside while carrying private turmoil, regret, or grief underneath.
The breakthrough came when the melody settled against the lyrics and created that emotional split — the outward brightness versus the inward confession. That’s when the song became fully formed: an honest look at how someone finally reaches the moment where the truth catches up, the excuses collapse, and what’s left is the painful realization that the hardest part of healing is owning the part you played in your own heartbreak.
What themes of confusion, release, or self-discovery do you explore in the lyrics, and what message do you hope listeners connect with?
“’Till I’m Drunk & Confused” sits inside the moment when avoidance collapses and accountability finally breaks through. The song isn’t about being drunk or acting reckless — it’s about using alcohol as an emotional escape, only to realize that the escape itself became part of the damage. The story follows the cycle many people experience but rarely admit: blaming everything else, numbing the truth, and then having to face the fact that the real problem wasn’t the alcohol at all — it was the person holding it.
The core themes are self-sabotage, misplaced blame, clarity that arrives too late, and the painful honesty that comes when someone finally stops blaming others, everything around them, and running from themselves. The confusion isn’t in the chaos of drinking — it’s the aftermath, the clarity that feels worse than the hangover. And the release isn’t relief — it’s acceptance.
The message is simple but heavy:
one can’t outrun themselves, nor can one continue to blame anyone or anything else; at some point they have to see their true reflection in the mirror looking back at them and no longer see the denial in the false images they once seen.
Whatever avoidance eventually waits them in the silence afterward.
And sometimes the truth is the only thing left — even when it hurts.
Your music draws from diverse genres like pop, R&B, jazz, techno, and indie—how did these elements shape the sound of this single? “’Till I’m Drunk & Confused” isn’t built from heavy genre-blending — it’s built from contrast and intention. The foundation of the track sits in acoustic pop and folk-pop, influenced by artists like Noah Kahan and Jason Mraz, with a bright melodic pulse that carries a much heavier emotional truth underneath. The ukulele and acoustic textures keep the song warm, open, and deceptively uplifting, while the lyrical weight pulls in the opposite direction.
What carries over from the broader catalog into this single isn’t genre mixing — it’s the cinematic storytelling, the emotional clarity, and the behavioral-science perspective woven into the phrasing and narrative flow. The song uses simplicity in production to highlight the complexity in the message. Every element — from the clean acoustic arrangement to the light rhythmic lift — is designed to make the emotional contrast hit harder.
Instead of blending ten genres at once, the track shows how minimal, intentional choices can create depth:
bright instrumentation, heavy truth, and a story that feels lived-in, observed, and painfully honest.
How does “Till I’m Drunk & Confused” reflect your growth as a global artist and behavioral scientist who infuses psychology into your work?
“’Till I’m Drunk & Confused” reflects a shift toward deeper psychological storytelling — not in an academic sense, but in the way real human behavior shows up in ordinary moments. The song takes a universally familiar situation — using alcohol as a distraction, blaming the chaos on everything except the truth — and reframes it through the lens of accountability, avoidance, and emotional self-confrontation.
As a behavioral scientist, the themes in this track come from observing how people cope, how they justify, and how they eventually break through their own denial. The single sits in the space where defense mechanisms collapse and the truth finally surfaces: the realization that the damage wasn’t caused by the alcohol, the argument, or the moment — it was caused by the person running from their own responsibility.
On the artistic side, the song reflects global growth through its story-first approach, its cross-border emotional accessibility, and its use of bright acoustic production to deliver a heavy psychological message. The contrast between sound and meaning mirrors the contrast people live every day: smiling on the outside while falling apart internally.
In ’Till I’m Drunk & Confused, psychological insight, lived observation, and global songwriting sensibilities come together. It represents an artist who isn’t writing for shock value or surface-level emotion, but for the deeper truth audiences everywhere recognize — the painful moment when someone realizes the problem wasn’t the alcohol… it was themselves.
What kind of listener experience do you envision for this track, especially in live settings or playlists? “’Till I’m Drunk & Confused” is built to hit listeners on two levels at the same time: emotionally and sonically. The acoustic warmth, bright melody, and rhythmic lift make it feel light and inviting on the surface — the kind of track that fits naturally into folk-pop, acoustic storytelling, singer-songwriter, breakup recovery, reflective mood, and road-trip playlists.
But beneath that brightness is the emotional weight of regret, accountability, and late-arriving honesty, which gives the song its staying power.
For listeners, the intended experience is that subtle gut-punch moment where the melody feels good, but the lyrics cut deeper the more attention is paid. It’s the kind of track that listeners replay because the meaning keeps unfolding — the kind that fills the car when someone is driving alone at night, or becomes the comforting song someone leans on when they’re finally admitting a truth they’ve been avoiding.
In a live setting, the song translates as intimate and cathartic rather than dramatic. Its simplicity — acoustic textures, open space, clear emotional storytelling — allows an audience to focus on the message. It’s the type of performance moment where the room gets quiet, the connection becomes personal, and people feel the story as if it mirrors a chapter of their own.
“’Till I’m Drunk & Confused” is designed for emotional resonance, repeat listening, quiet self-reflection, and those unexpected moments when an honest lyric lands harder than expected.
How has the initial response been to “Till I’m Drunk & Confused,” and what feedback has surprised you most? The initial response to “’Till I’m Drunk & Confused” has been exceptionally strong for a brand-new release, especially given that the rollout was disrupted by external platform delays. Even without a full campaign window, the track immediately generated industry traction: the moment its Spotify link activated on Groover, it debuted directly inside the U.S. Top 100 at #57, joining “Ugly When You Love Me” (#84 Global) and “Captivity” (#43 U.S.) for a rare three-song simultaneous chart presence — a level of early momentum typically associated with established indie or label-supported acts.
Curators consistently highlighted the emotional honesty and the thematic depth as the standout qualities. Many were struck by how the brightness of the acoustic arrangement contrasts with the heaviness of the self-accountability in the lyrics, giving the track an unexpected cinematic weight. What surprised many reviewers was that the song isn’t about drinking culture at all — it’s about the moment someone finally stops blaming alcohol, circumstances, or conflict and admits the truth: the damage was self-inflicted. That level of transparency resonated far more than expected.
In addition to Groover, the track advanced into the Euro Indie Music Chart system, contributing to Exzenya’s multi-song presence on the European rankings. While “Till I’m Drunk & Confused” is the newest of the charting tracks, it joins a catalog that has already secured four Euro Indie placements this month (“V.I.P.” #39, “Captivity” #49, “Ugly When You Love Me” #74, “‘Till I’m Drunk & Confused” #87).
The most unexpected part of the rollout is that the track gained measurable industry recognition before it had a proper promotional runway. No warm-up cycle, no extended pre-push, no ad structure behind it — just the song itself. Despite the setbacks affecting campaign timing, the song broke through purely on emotional resonance, curator alignment, and listener connection.
The early reaction signals something important:
audiences and curators are recognizing authenticity immediately — not because of hype, but because the story feels real.
What’s next after this single—more releases, collaborations, or projects tied to your international perspective? The release of “’Till I’m Drunk & Confused” is part of a much larger forward-moving structure rather than a standalone moment. The next phase includes a continued run of singles across two full albums — Story of My Life and Bar Scenes & Rumors — alongside a continued global push across major platforms. The catalog already has measurable international traction across continents; upcoming releases will build on that expanding foundation.
There are no collaborations announced yet, but future partnerships will be strategically selected to support global audience reach rather than short-term visibility. The next singles are structured to highlight genre fluidity — from acoustic storytelling to dark-pop, satirical pop, R&B-infused emotional tracks, and cinematic vocal compositions.
This is not a single-cycle plan; it’s a multi-year rollout designed for international scalability, continuous chart visibility, and cross-platform brand growth; bridging boarders, cultures, and connecting people.
Solo Thugging: JoeyGo’s Journey to Confidence and Clarity
Nun Like Me marks an incredibly powerful moment of self-realisation and artistic clarity for JoeyGo, an artist whose journey has been dramatically shaped by struggle, resilience, and an unwavering commitment to staying true to himself! Born from a period of newfound confidence, the single brilliantly captures the pivotal moment when he stopped seeing his reflection through the distorted lens of self-doubt and finally began embracing everything he has survived, learned, and become. The song is a bold, unapologetic statement—one that reflects years of genuine hardship, from poverty to time spent in prison, and the long, difficult road toward complete self-acceptance!
Crafted with serious intention, Nun Like Me expertly blends gritty old-school energy with exciting flashes of modern influence, carried by sharp production from engineer LALO TOPBOY. JoeyGo pours absolutely every emotion into the track, addressing his failures, victories, and critics with unflinching raw honesty. The message comes through crystal clear and hits hard: no one else can be you, and that truth alone is incredibly powerful!
As part of his highly anticipated upcoming album Solo Thugging, the single powerfully continues JoeyGo’s compelling theme of self-reliance and individuality. Fans have already enthusiastically embraced its boldness, pushing it onto several playlists and responding strongly to its fearless message. With its rising momentum building daily, Nun Like Me stands poised to become one of his biggest breakout songs yet!
This is JoeyGo stepping fully into his power, and it sounds absolutely unstoppable!
What inspired the creation of “Nun Like Me,” and what core themes or personal experiences does the track explore?
“Nun like Me”, was inspired due to my new found confidence not only in my musical craft, but also in myself . Too many times I found myself hating the man I saw in the mirror. Depression, self pity and a host of other emotions really took a toll on me . I been through a lot in my lifetime and had to face many challenges.
“Nun Like Me”, is my expression of my view and thoughts concerning my life’s experiences and came about when I finally started loving myself and understanding that I had a lot of things good in me. “Nun Like Me”’, speaks to believing in yourself . Stop watching time fly by and step into your role and uniqueness. There can be no other you and you are strong and confident when you embrace your own lane .
How did you approach the songwriting and production to craft its distinctive sound and lyrical narrative? I approached the writing of “Nun Like Me”, knowing I had to make a statement. This song was me addressing all my failures, all my victories and all my critics. Throughout my life, there were many moments I had to sit and watch others having motion. I had to endure poverty and having nothing.
Throughout my life, there were many moments I had to sit and watch others having motion
I sat in prison after prison , with no one to confide in and express myself to. And through it all, I never lost myself. “Nun Like Me”, was crafted musically to fit this narrative. I wanted a sonic composition that fit well with the emotion I was pouring into this song. And overall I am happy with how my engineer LALO TOPBOY, was able to put it together.
What message or emotional resonance do you hope listeners take away from “Nun Like Me”? I want the listener to take away a sense of pride in who they are. I want them to hear “Nun Like Me”, and see the greatness in themselves. There is not another you in the entire world , that in itself should give you confidence to go out and shine .
How does “Nun Like Me” reflect your broader musical style and evolution as an artist? I think “Nun Like Me”’ really showcases my gritty musical style. It is rough around the edges, not your normal trendy rap style. It hints at old school roots while still capturing new school vibes. “Nun Like Me”, brings together all my previous tracks of varying genres and styles that I explored earlier on in my musical career when I was trying to find my lane, and in a sense ; put me squarely in my space as an artist.
This song , really embodies who I am. I am not perfect, but I am perfect at being me. And for this I am unapologetic. Lastly, “Nun Like Me”, shows my evolution as an artist that just keeps progressing and I believe the song demonstrates my potential as a unique artist. I have no similarities. There are NO other JoeyGo styles out there.
In what ways does this single connect to or diverge from your previous releases? I feel as if “Nun Like Me”, neither connects nor diverges from my previous releases. They are all unique and different from each other. Like you can’t really put me in a certain lane outside of my own. But what “Nun Like Me “, does connect to is the theme of an album that I will include the song in, titled “Solo Thugging”.
Which speaks to being ok with getting things done on your own and not relying on anyone else to do it for you. In life most times it’s going to be just you and that’s ok . Like I say , each person is unique. “Nun Like Me”, like my album “Solo Thuggin”, conveys the message get up , get out and blaze your own path even if you have to do it SOLO.
What has been the initial feedback from fans and the music community on “Nun Like Me”? They rockin with it. A lot of fans of the song comment about its overall vibe and boldness. It has been placed on several playlist and is being received well in the music community.
How do you envision this track performing in live settings or playlists?
It has been included in several playlist and is performing well . I do feel as if it will gradually rise even higher as it gets exposed to more listeners and overall I feel as if it will become one of my most notable break out songs as an artist.
Larry Karpenko "Celebrate The King" With A New Holiday Album
Larry Karpenko’s new holiday album, ‘Celebrate the King,’ is a delightful surprise.
It’s a Christmas album for people who don’t like Christmas albums. It’s a collection of songs that are both festive and spiritual, traditional and modern, and, most importantly, interesting.
Karpenko, a composer and producer from Loma Linda, California, has created a record that is a thoughtful and creative exploration of the meaning of Christmas, born from a quiet realization during a previous holiday season that he had yet to create a dedicated holiday collection for his listeners.
“Hark! The Herald,” a classic carol that Karpenko infuses with new life. The arrangement is playful and swinging, with a lively piano improvisation by Earnest Kim.
It’s a bold choice to open the album with such a familiar song, but Karpenko’s arrangement is so fresh and original that it feels like you’re hearing it for the first time. This is a recurring theme throughout the album.
Karpenko takes well-known Christmas songs and reimagines them in unexpected ways, a process he clearly enjoys, noting he likes to “step outside the mold.”
One of the most striking examples of this is his version of “Mary, Did You Know?” a song that has been covered by countless artists. Karpenko’s version is a modern, atmospheric take on the song, with a focused instrumentation and a dynamic arrangement.
He was inspired by Jon Bellion’s collaboration with Switchfoot on their 2023 reimagining of “Meant to Live,” and you can hear that influence in the song’s edgy, contemporary sound.
It’s a powerful and moving performance that brings out the emotional depth of the lyrics without feeling overwrought.
Karpenko also includes three original compositions on the album, which are some of the highlights of the record. “Lullaby for a King” is a tender and intimate ballad with a gentle melody and poetic imagery.
“Jesus, You’re Christmas” is a soulful, jazz-infused piece that reframes the season’s meaning with warmth and clarity. And “Celebrate the King” is a joyful, gospel-tinged anthem that is sure to get you on your feet, inspired by a fusion of Lionel Richie, Kool & the Gang, and a Disney Holiday Parade.
These original songs are a proof to Karpenko’s talent as a songwriter and his ability to create music that is both personal and universal.
The track is filled with whimsical sound effects, including a cuckoo clock, popping popcorn, and roller coasters, creating a festive and slightly surreal listening experience. Then there’s “One Small Child,” which channels the dramatic intensity of a James Bond theme, complete with driving beats and a gypsy violin.
It’s these kinds of unexpected creative choices that make the album so engaging. It’s like finding a secret room in a house you thought you knew.
The album was recorded at Karpenko’s own Kreation Records Studio in Loma Linda, California.
The recording process was a collaborative one, with a diverse group of musicians contributing to the album’s sound.
Ben Phipatanakul’s jazzy groove on “What Child Is This,” Shawn Scott’s smooth bassline on “Christmas Time Is Here,” and the joyful call of Abigail Pakpahan and Azariah Waworundeng on “Celebrate the King” all add to the album’s rich and varied texture.
Karpenko’s daughter, Lauryn, even makes an appearance on the duet “Adore,” a beautifully relaxed and intimate performance that feels like a genuine family moment.
Larry Karpenko “Celebrate The King” With A New Holiday Album
You can hear echoes of these artists in the album’s sound, but Karpenko’s own voice is always front and center. He’s an artist who is not afraid to take risks and to push the boundaries of what a Christmas album can be.
His personal philosophy seems to be that music is a conversation, and he’s not interested in just repeating what others have said.
‘Celebrate the King’ is a breath of fresh air. It’s a record that is both musically and spiritually satisfying. It’s an album that will make you think, make you feel, and, most importantly, make you celebrate.
It’s a reminder that the story of Christmas is a story worth telling, and that music is a powerful way to tell it.
This is a Christmas album that you’ll want to listen to long after the holidays are over.
It’s a celebration of faith, family, and the enduring power of a good song, a musical embrace for the season, wrapped in faith, family, and wonder.
Small-Town Stories and Big Emotions with Elke Louie
Coming from Gympie, Queensland, exciting emerging indie folk artist Elke Louie is stepping boldly into the spotlight with the release of her debut single Killing Time on November 7—and it’s the thrilling first taste of her upcoming EP arriving in early 2026! Blending raw emotion with delicate storytelling, Elke brings an intimate acoustic warmth to her music, creating songs that feel both deeply personal and instantly relatable. Killing Time dives beautifully into themes of stillness, loneliness, and the quiet ache of waiting, all shaped by her genuine experiences growing up in a small town where days often felt like they were simply drifting by.
The single was recorded at Mantle Records with Clare and Lawrence of Those Folk, marking an incredible milestone as Elke’s very first time in a professional studio—a transformative moment that pushed her creatively and strengthened her trust in the power of collaboration! Already turning heads through her impressive work with established artists like Jen Mize and Clare Quinn, Elke is rapidly carving out her own unique place in Australia’s thriving indie folk scene.
Today, we’re absolutely thrilled to have Elke sit down with us to share the heart, growth, and inspiring journey behind Killing Time. This is just the beginning for this talented artist, and we can’t wait to see where her music takes her next!
What inspired you to write “Killing Time,” and what story or emotion does the song convey?
Killing Time was a collaboration between myself and Clare Quinn of Those folk, we wrote ‘’Killing Time’’ at a songwriting workshop called the Songmuster in my hometown Gympie. The idea of the song was that life in our small-town can feel like you’re just going through the motions of life or Killing time as there was little to do in Gympie growing up. This song ties into the themes of the EP, exploring feelings of loneliness and isolation within the boundaries of a small town.
How does “Killing Time” reflect your growth as an indie folk artist?
This song made me push my collaborative boundaries and made me learn how to share the intimate experience of songwriting with someone else. Learning from Those folk, established folk artists, they widened my scope of the intricacies of folk music.
Can you describe the songwriting and recording process for this single? Any memorable moments?
Killing Time was the first song I recorded in a studio, so I went into it with very little idea about what I was doing, my producers Clare Quinn and Lawrence Meynard were so amazing and helped me feel comfortable in the space.
Killing Time was the first song I recorded in a studio,
What themes or messages do you want listeners to take away from “Killing Time”?
Definitely the universal struggle of finding meaning in moments of uncertainty, for me, the song captures the quiet ache of waiting, especially in a small town.
How do you blend acoustic warmth with storytelling in your music, especially in “Killing Time”?
In Killing Time I wanted the acoustic sound to feel as honest as the story itself. The warmth of the guitar creates that sense of closeness, like you’re right there with me while I’m telling it. Keeping the production simple let the emotion and storytelling shine through naturally.
How has your experience performing solo and with your band Hugo and the Hive influenced your music?
Playing with my band, Hugo and The Hive, feels like home. It’s where I found my confidence and learned to trust my voice. We’re more than just a band, we’re family. We write together, share ideas openly, and support each other in everything we do. They’re a big part of why I can balance my solo work without feeling overwhelmed.
What can fans expect next from you? Are you planning more singles, an EP, or a full album?
Yes! I’ll be releasing my debut EP early in 2026, with several singles set to come out in the lead-up to the full release, I’m very excited!
How do you see your music evolving in the coming years?
I have always been a bit of a perfectionist when it comes to my songwriting, so I’m hoping that after the first five songs come out that I will have some newfound confidence to be a bit more messy in my songwriting, I hope I can one day push out five songs a week without fear of judgement from myself.
What do you enjoy most about being an emerging artist in Australia’s indie folk scene?
Meeting and being able to write songs with and around other Folk artists, it’s inspiring to be surrounded by people who care so deeply about storytelling and connection through music. Being part of that feels really special.
AmurRayz Blends Cinematic Beauty with Holiday Emotion in New Single
Australian group AmurRayz is also celebrating the holiday season in a beautiful way with This Time of Year, a gorgeous and very warm and emotion-filled single that features orchestra splendour and touching lyrics! A creation of Michael Crannage at Stick Music in Albany, Western Australia, the song brings together a very talented line up of musicians whose combination of talents creates an experience of awe and a very soothing feel. It starts with such beautiful cinematic violin arrangements of the track, soft piano, acoustic guitar, and consistent drumming create the atmosphere that is full of warmth and reflection!
The words of the song get to the core of the song the deep, expressive voice of Stephen Murray who is harmoniously accompanied by Michael and Kylie Crannage whose melodies resonate with the feeling of intimacy and comfort of family meetings. The musical fabric is still bright with the smooth sound of the saxophone of Paul Millard, the emotional violin playing of Mike Hyder, and the soothing guitar of Lindsay Hamminga- each musician bringing fantastic detail and hue to the song!
Of course Santa will take centre stage.
This Time of Year is a careful and insightful look at the various facets of the holiday season; the happiness, the nostalgia, the reunions, and even the small moments of memory and longing. It is sincere in noting that this special time means something to each and all, whether it is celebrations or even more somber reflections. AmurRayz can be regarded as a perfect holiday song that can be created to reassure, unite and resonate over generations with its heartfelt presentation and best-thought form.
It is that sort of holiday music that envelopes you like an immense embrace–so just the thing to have during the season!
What inspired the creation of “This Time of Year,” and what seasonal or emotional themes does the track explore through its folk-roots sound?
This time of year is upon us again.
How did you approach the songwriting and arrangement to capture the contemplative, atmospheric essence that defines this single? We know it as Christmas, Christmas/New Year, the festive season, the holiday season.
What key musical elements—such as instrumentation, melody, or vocal delivery—stand out as central to the song’s impact and mood?
We prepare for it steadily from months out or in a dash with hours to go.
Many modes of communication prepare us for joy, happiness, and fun.
Some ask that we remember others needing love, nurture and presence.
Yet we know it is going to be more than this.
What message or personal resonance do you hope listeners connect with in “This Time of Year”? This song, This Time of Year, is written to convey in lyric and melody, Christmas New Year and the season’s many vagaries.
How does this single reflect your evolution within the folk, roots, and country genres? This time of year comes and goes. Love rises and brings with it joy, but also sadness. With this time of year comes music old and new, music with melodies to hear, and lyrics to sing; music to carry your thoughts to loved ones near and far in place and time.
In what ways does “This Time of Year” connect to your Great Southern, WA background and broader musical influences? We will gather round our family homes, our places of work, our gathering venues. We’ll be with people familiar and not so familiar. Some will be alone. Some will be alone when in company. This time will be fleeting for the joyous, prolonged for the needful. Wherever possible and often against the odds, people will try to enrich sadness with joy.
What initial feedback have you received from fans or the triple j Unearthed community on this release? Of course Santa will take centre stage. The wonderful world-wide magical moments for children to wish, dream, expect and accept the amazing feat of one human delivering so much to so many for so long and so fast! Some will take time to be with those in need – perhaps aged, perhaps infirm, perhaps alone. Young and vibrant love will abound. Others will remember and settle into reveries punctuated by visions into the future.
How do you see “This Time of Year” performing in live performances or seasonal playlists?
With so much activity, we are dutybound to think of now. Yet, we reflect. We remember. We think of those gone. Our hearts swell. Again we think of now. We look around and hold the moments passing so fleetingly. We gather them up and we reflect on the deep pleasure of the people we are with. We become part of a kaleidoscope of family, friends, and community in a season for all of us, altogether, this time of year.
Zeek Wonderlen's "Seasons" Is a Refreshing R&B Breeze
Zeek Wonderlen, a name that might not be on your radar yet, has delivered a collection of songs with his new EP, “Seasons.”
Hailing from Chicago, Wonderlen is making his introduction into the R&B scene. The EP is a four-song offering that gives a glimpse into this artist’s perspective on love and its many forms.
It’s a concise and focused project, a deliberate choice in an age of bloated streaming-era albums. Each track represents a different phase of a relationship, a concept that, while not new, is executed with a quiet confidence.
The EP opens with “Pop A Bottle,” a song that fizzes with the excitement of a new beginning. The production is bright and airy, built around a simple, infectious rhythm that feels like the first warm day of spring after a long winter.
Wonderlen’s voice is front and center, carrying a melody that is both hopeful and inviting. It’s a celebration of potential, of the moment when anything feels possible. The lyrical content is straightforward, but it’s the delivery that sells it.
There’s an earnestness to his performance that is hard to resist. It’s a song for new apartments, new jobs, and new loves.
It’s a smart choice for an opener, immediately establishing a positive and accessible mood.
From the bright optimism of the first track, we move into the warm intimacy of “All I See.” This is the summer of the EP’s cycle, a song of deep affection and contentment.
The tempo slows, and the instrumentation becomes more lush, with smooth harmonies creating a bed for Wonderlen’s lead vocal.
The lyrics paint a picture of a love that is all-encompassing, a partnership that feels like the only thing that matters. It’s a classic R&B sentiment, but Wonderlen’s performance keeps it from feeling stale.
There’s a tenderness in his voice that feels genuine. This is a track for late-night drives and quiet moments shared between two people. It’s a reminder that sometimes the most profound feelings are best expressed in a simple, direct way.
The emotional core of the EP is the lead single, “Brand New.” Here we have the autumn of the cycle, a time of change and reflection. The song deals with the aftermath of a relationship, the feeling of being left behind.
The melody has a gentle, melancholic quality that is instantly memorable. The lyrics are relatable to anyone who has experienced a similar loss. There’s a maturity to the songwriting here, an understanding that sadness and acceptance can coexist.
The announcement of a music video for this track, set to premiere on January 12, 2026, is an intriguing prospect. One can imagine a visual treatment that captures the song’s mood, perhaps something set in the fading light of an autumn day.
This is the track that is most likely to stick with listeners, the one that showcases Wonderlen’s potential as a songwriter.
The EP concludes with “Pretty Lady,” a song that feels like the winter of the cycle. It’s a ballad that offers warmth and comfort in the face of the cold. The arrangement is sparse, with a focus on Wonderlen’s voice and a simple instrumental accompaniment.
The song is a message of reassurance and companionship, a promise of steadfastness. It’s a gentle and understated way to close the project, leaving the listener with a sense of peace.
After the emotional journey of the previous tracks, it’s a welcome resolution. It’s a song that suggests that even after the heat of summer and the changes of autumn, there is a quiet and enduring warmth to be found.
Throughout “Seasons,” Wonderlen’s vocal performance is consistently strong. He has a smooth, clear voice that is well-suited to the R&B genre.
His storytelling is direct and unpretentious, focusing on emotions that are easy to connect with. The involvement of Grammy Award-winning producers and songwriters is apparent in the polished and professional sound of the EP.
Zeek Wonderlen’s “Seasons” Is a Refreshing R&B Breeze
The production is clean and modern, but it never overshadows the songs themselves. The four tracks work together as a cohesive whole, telling a story of a relationship from its hopeful beginning to its comfortable conclusion.
It is refreshing to hear a project like “Seasons.” Zeek Wonderlen is not trying to be something he’s not. He is an artist who is comfortable in his own skin, making music that is honest and heartfelt.
This EP is a promising first step, a solid foundation for a career that could go in many interesting directions. It will be fascinating to see how he grows as an artist, how his sound evolves, and what new stories he chooses to tell.
For now, “Seasons” is a welcome arrival, a small but significant statement from a new voice in R&B.
It’s a reminder that sometimes the most effective art is that which speaks to the simple, shared experiences of being human.
There’s a certain kind of quiet that settles over rural towns, a quiet that can either suffocate you or force you to make your own noise.
For Jax Fleming, hailing from the outskirts of Henderson, Kentucky, it was always about being heard. It started with a 30 Seconds to Mars video and a text to his dad:
“this is what I want to do.”
That desire led him to front the alt-rock outfit Atlas of the Dogs, playing some of Southern Indiana’s biggest stages.
But the music of a band is a shared one, a compromise. On his debut solo EP, “I’ll Be Fine,” Fleming steps into a different kind of sound, one that is entirely his own.
The six-song EP is a project born of introspection and a year and a half of dedicated work.
“It’s basically my diary in six tracks,” Fleming says of the collection.
And it feels that way. This isn’t the sound of an artist chasing trends; it’s the sound of someone figuring things out, one song at a time.
Working with producer Wes Luttrell, Fleming played the majority of the instruments himself. From the guitar, drums, piano, synth, to the bass making this a truly personal document.
The EP opens with “Superficial,” a track that immediately sets a mood. It’s a song you can dance to, but it’s a lonely dance, the kind you do in your apartment late at night when the city is asleep.
The guitars are washed in reverb, creating a sound that feels both immediate and distant, like a memory you can’t quite shake.
It’s a strong introduction to Fleming’s sonic palette, a place where pop sensibilities meet a grungier, more introspective edge.
The title track, “I’ll Be Fine,” follows, and it’s here that the EP’s central theme comes into focus. The song is built around a tight, insistent strumming pattern, a forward momentum that belies the emotional weight of the lyrics.
It’s a song about resilience, not in a loud, anthemic way, but in a quiet, determined one. The chorus has a gentle lift, a small moment of hope in the midst of uncertainty.
It’s a beautifully crafted piece of modern alternative pop, one that feels earned rather than manufactured.
Then there’s “3 am” The title alone tells you where this song is going. It begins with a trembling guitar, a sound that feels like it’s being played in a half-dream state. The rhythm pushes forward with a nervous energy, a feeling of being caught between sleep and waking.
Fleming uses space masterfully here, letting instruments appear and disappear like figures in a fog. It’s a track that hints at something darker, a noir-ish quality that adds a layer of mystery to the EP.
The closing track, “HiLo,” is a fitting end to this emotional expedition. It’s a song of contrasts, of quiet moments that explode into wide-screen crescendos. Echo-laden phrases give way to heavier melodic lines, a push and pull that mirrors the song’s title.
Jax Fleming’s “Superficial” Is Anything But
It’s a final look at Fleming’s ability to balance introspection with a sense of forward motion, to be both vulnerable and strong.
It’s a song that doesn’t offer easy answers, but instead leaves you with a feeling of catharsis, a sense that the struggle is worth it.
Across its twenty-minute runtime, “I’ll Be Fine” is a remarkably cohesive and confident debut. Fleming has a clear vision for his music, a sound that is modern and moody, yet unclassifiable.
He’s not afraid to wear his heart on his sleeve, to share his diary with the world. And in doing so, he’s created something that feels both deeply personal and universally relatable.
It’s a reminder that sometimes, the quietest voices are the ones that have the most to say. Jax Fleming is making his own noise now, and it’s a sound that deserves to be heard.
Dove Nicol Announces Debut EP Built On Identity, Duality and Growth
Ghanaian based-artist from Sierra Leone Dove Nicol has officially announced the release of her debut, self-titled EP, “Dove Nicol,“ slated to drop on December 12th.
The seven-track project promises to be a thoughtful and significant soundscape as Dove Nicol prepares to make her definitive introduction to the world.
The “Dove Nicol” EP is described as a “multidimensional portrait of a woman becoming” , reflecting the artist’s multifaceted identity and sophisticated sonic vision. Thematically, the project is built around the exploration of duality, self-discovery, and spiritual evolution.
It moves beyond standard romantic narratives, offering a nuanced look at personal growth. The EP’s core message lies in embracing an identity that can simultaneously contain “softness and fire,” crafting a sonic space where healing and power coexist.
For fans of cross-continental R&B and innovative African music, the debut is a must-watch. Dove Nicol’s ability to blend soulful R&B depth with Afrofusion rhythms is a nod to her unique position as an artist capable of bridging sounds and cultures.
The “Dove Nicol” EP arrives on December 12th, watch out and presave here
AKA Primetime Locks into a Dangerous Groove on "Electric Blue"
With the release of AKA Primetime’s latest single, “Electric Blue”, I found myself instinctively checking if the heating in my apartment was actually on, or if the sudden warmth was just bleeding out of the speakers. Kelly Appleton, the architect behind this project, has constructed something that tackles the dreaded ‘seasonal slump’ not with a cozy wool blanket, but with a sheer, neon-drenched shock to the system.
The track occupies a sonic space that feels like driving through a Tokyo tunnel in a DMC DeLorean, yet the emotions are raw, human, and rooted in the soil of resilience. Appleton weaves 80s New Wave textures with a production style that refuses to be dusty. It’s sharp.
There is a specific chemistry at play here. Jake Hayden on drums and Sara Farina on bass lock into a groove that feels dangerously close to an accelerated heartbeat, the kind you get when you narrowly miss a train but catch the next one. It anchors the clean, funk-adjacent guitar riffs that slice through the mix like scissors through velvet.
AKA Primetime Locks into a Dangerous Groove on “Electric Blue”
And then there is the voice. JJ Roxx delivers a performance that prowls in the lower registers during the verses, storytelling with a confident strut, before launching the chorus into the stratosphere. It reminded me, strangely, of that split-second feeling when you step out of a darkened theater into the blinding midday sun, a sudden, optical reset that forces you to blink and reassess your surroundings.
“Electric Blue” operates on the premise that the only way out of the grey fog of winter is to run straight through the center of it. It doesn’t ask for permission to be happy; it demands vitality. Is joy a discipline or a reaction? Appleton seems to suggest it’s a rhythm we simply have to relearn to play.
A Punchy Christmas Revolt: Jamie Alimorad Shares "Santa Sucks"
There is a specific kind of betrayal reserved for the morning of December 25th, and with Jamie Alimorad releasing “Santa Sucks”, that indignity finally has its proper anthem. We are often force-fed audio syrup during the winter months, tracks that insist upon peace on earth while you’re stuck in gridlock traffic. Alimorad, however, chooses violence. Or at least, a very catchy form of neon-lit resentment.
The single opens not with sleigh bells, but with a punchy drum kit and a rhythmic bass line that lands with the visceral thud of a present dropping down the chimney only to reveal it’s not the toy you asked for. The production is deceptively cheerful. Bright, 80s-inspired synthesizer riffs dance around clean electric guitar strumming, creating a sonic texture that feels like a sugar rush before the crash. It reminds me of a specific shade of wrapping paper I saw once in a dentist’s waiting room: aggressively festive, meant to distract you from the impending drill.
A Punchy Christmas Revolt: Jamie Alimorad Shares “Santa Sucks”
Alimorad’s vocal performance is modern and polished, delivering the narrative of “Nice List” failure with a smooth confidence that barely hides the twitch of frustration. It explores that unique adolescent despair: the realization that the holiday season is a transactional economy, and sometimes, despite your virtuous behavior, the market crashes. He isn’t singing about peace; he’s singing about the socks and practical items that serve as the consolation prizes of childhood.
It is a brave juxtaposition. The track invites you to dance while simultaneously shaking a fist at the injustice of the North Pole’s bureaucracy. Most holiday songs ask for your heart; this one validates your spleen. It captures that rebellion against forced gratitude, wrapping angst in a commercially friendly package that sticks in your brain like pine needles in a carpet.
Why do we insist on perfect joy when the reality is often perfectly disappointing?
More Than Greatest Hits: The Evolution of Suris on "Rare Brew"
There is something distinctly architectural about the way Suris constructed “Rare Brew,” the latest collection from the husband-and-wife duo Lindsey and David Mackie. While this release bills itself as a curated retrospective remastered for 2025, calling it a “greatest hits” feels like a disservice it is more like wandering through a house where every room operates under a different law of physics.
You start on the roof, gazing upward. “Astrosurf” doesn’t simply play; it dilates. Lindsey Mackie’s vocals here are breathable oxygen, climbing delay-heavy guitar ladders that remind me of that peculiar sensation you get when you stare at a suspension bridge for too long a majestic sort of dizziness. It captures the terror of finding a new human connection so massive it rearranges your internal gravity. But then, Suris pulls the rug out.
We tumble from the cosmic expanse of space right into the rain-slicked pavement of “Great Wide Open.” The electronic soul here is damp and gray, smelling faintly of ozone and old coats. It’s a track that demands you sit by a window and watch the condensation drip.
More Than Greatest Hits: The Evolution of Suris on “Rare Brew”
Just as you settle into the melancholic folk-tinged comfort of “Riverman,” the collection takes a sharp left turn into the frenetic. Tracks like “Absolute Zero” and “All Over Again” abandon the safety of art rock for the strobe-lit urgency of Jungle and Drum and Bass. It’s a jarring shift, yet it works. It reminds me of the chaotic mental arithmetic one does while trying to navigate a subway system at rush hour the need to reclaim autonomy, as “Absolute Zero” suggests, is rarely a quiet affair. It is fast, cold, and strictly rhythmical.
David Mackie’s production shines in these heavier, darker moments. On “Hellion,” the soundscape turns submerged and thick, like moving through molasses or deep ocean currents. It invokes a primal, aquatic regression that made me think of the evolutionary diagrams I stared at in fifth grade, wondering at what point we decided to crawl out of the mud.
More Than Greatest Hits: The Evolution of Suris on “Rare Brew”
“Big Ship” and “Warrior Queen” showcase the duo’s knack for the grandiose, channeling that Kate Bush theatrics where emotion is too big for a normal voice. The former, dealing with the fierce love for a wild daughter, crashes with the energy of a storm held in a teacup.
This isn’t background music. It is a strange, shifting beast that refuses to sit still. “Rare Brew” asks you to accept that a driving house beat on “Last Fish in the Sea” can coexist with the regal orchestral sweeps of “Scaur Bank.” It suggests that a single human life is both a neon-lit rave and a quiet, rainy afternoon.
Do we ever really finish a conversation with our past selves, or do we just remaster the tape?
Why Pimpin Change’s “Luxury Pimpin” Demands Your Patience
There is a distinctive friction when you listen to Pimpin Change and his upcoming album, “Luxury Pimpin”, something like the satisfying drag of a high-quality fountain pen across textured paper. You expect the ink to bleed, but the lines remain sharp. Jeremy Hill, the man behind the moniker and the Country Dreams Ent. label, operates in a space that feels surprisingly vacant in modern music: the intersection of Southern grit and high-minded composition. He isn’t trying to flood your feed; he’s trying to furnish your headspace.
The opening track, “Gold Smoke”, sets a heavy table. With its deep sub-bass and spoken-word delivery, it doesn’t rush to greet you. It reminded me vividly of the specific weight of a winter coat you haven’t worn in years, heavy with the past, smelling faintly of cold air and old receipts. The anxiety explored here feels genuine, offering a somber counterpoint to the bravado usually found in the genre. But just as the mood thickens, “Silk Street” cracks a window. The snare gets snappy, the electric piano wanders in, and the conversation turns from internal dread to external confidence.
Why Pimpin Change’s “Luxury Pimpin” Demands Your Patience
It is in the mid-section where Hill’s background in music theory wrestles with his Southern hip-hop influences. “Players Price” feels gritty and paranoid. While listening to the repetitive melodic loop, my mind oddly drifted to a neighbor I watched growing up, a man who meticulously waxed his rusty station wagon every Sunday. There is a specific dignity in maintaining standards amidst chaos, and that is exactly the energy this track radiates. It segues sharply into “Church On The Corner”, a minimalist, confrontational piece that trades melody for heavy bass and hard truths. It feels like a lecture from an elder you are too afraid to interrupt.
However, the album isn’t entirely shadowed by tension. “High Fashion Hustle” introduces an organ warmth that feels almost spiritual, a necessary exhale after the tightness of the previous tracks. By the time we arrive at the title track, “Luxury Pimpin”, the psychology of the hustle has evolved into something sophisticated. The jazz chords don’t swing wildly; they strut. It treats success not as a loud accumulation of things, but as a quiet refinement of character.
Why Pimpin Change’s “Luxury Pimpin” Demands Your Patience
As the album closes with “Smoke Clears”, a piano-driven retrospective, you get the sense that Hill is playing the long game. This isn’t music designed for a thirty-second viral clip. It advocates for his philosophy of “culture over algorithms” by simply refusing to rush. In an era obsessed with speed, how much is your patience actually worth?
Jay Coda’s Latest EP "Nu Creature" Is A Declaration Of Artistic Independence
The arrival of an artist like Jay Coda feels like a sudden, cleansing downpour. Her new EP, ‘Nu Creature’, is a raw, unapologetic exploration of self, a sonic document of a woman who has walked through fire and emerged not just unscathed, but forged anew.
Coda, a former U.S. Army sergeant and cybersecurity professional, has traded the rigid structure of military life for the chaotic freedom of artistic expression, and the result is a sound that is as compelling as it is complex.
The EP is a five-track collection that defies easy categorization. It’s a Molotov cocktail of gospel-rooted emotion, punk-rock energy, and experimental alt-production.
The opening track, “Earthquake,” sets the tone with a seismic burst of sound that feels like the ground shifting beneath your feet.
It’s a fitting introduction to an artist who is shaking up the foundations of her own life and, in the process, creating a space for others to do the same.
Coda’s journey from the military to music is not just a biographical footnote; it’s the very heart of ‘Nu Creature’.
The discipline and intensity of her former life are palpable in the music’s driving rhythms and unflinching honesty. But there’s also a sense of liberation, of a spirit breaking free from confinement.
This is most evident in tracks like “Beam” and “Red Pills,” where Coda’s voice soars over a bed of distorted guitars and electronic textures.
The lyrics are a torrent of images and ideas, touching on themes of autonomy, equality, and personal freedom. It’s a conversation with the culture at large, a challenge to the status quo.
One of the most striking aspects of ‘Nu Creature’ is its refusal to be just one thing. It’s a protest, a prayer, and a party all at once. The track “Firewall” is a perfect example of this. It begins with a spoken-word intro that feels like a secret transmission, a message from the underground.
Then, it explodes into a full-blown anthem, a call to arms for anyone who has ever felt like an outsider. The production, handled by Coda herself along with a team of collaborators including Idrise Ward-El, Adrian Lopez, Deng Jujie, Joshua Gomez, and Barry Feng, is a masterclass in controlled chaos. It’s a sound that is both raw and refined, polished and punk.
The closing track, “Word,” brings the EP to a powerful and poignant conclusion. It’s a moment of reflection, a chance to catch your breath after the sonic storm that has preceded it.
The track is a testament to the power of language, of speaking your truth even when your voice shakes. It’s a reminder that every story matters, that every voice deserves to be heard.
‘Nu Creature’ is an artistic statement. It’s the sound of a woman claiming her power, of an artist finding her voice. It’s a reminder that the most interesting art often comes from the most unexpected places.
Jay Coda is not just a musician; she’s a storyteller, a truth-teller, a force of nature. And with this EP, she has created a work that is as challenging as it is cathartic, as personal as it is universal.
It’s a bold new chapter for an artist who is just getting started, and one can only imagine what she will do next.
The performers on the EP include Jay Coda, Ashton Gray, Elias The Infinite, Joshua Gomez, Eric Jin, Barry Feng, Adrian Lopez, and Deng Jujie.
The EP is a powerful statement from an artist who is not afraid to be herself, and it is a must-listen for anyone who is looking for music with substance and soul.
Jay Coda’s Latest EP “Nu Creature” Is A Declaration Of Artistic Independence
The cover art for ‘Nu Creature’, a striking piece of digital collage by Emily Eizen, deserves its own mention. It’s a visual representation of the music within: a fractured, multi-layered portrait of a woman emerging from a storm of code and color.
The image, like the music, is a rejection of simplicity. It’s a celebration of the messy, complicated, and ultimately beautiful process of becoming.
It’s a fitting visual for an EP that is all about breaking free from boxes and labels, about creating a new identity from the fragments of the old.
The transition from a military career to a musical one is a path less travelled, and it’s this unique background that gives Jay Coda’s music its particular edge. The military is an institution built on conformity and control, while art is an expression of individuality and freedom.
Coda’s music exists in the tension between these two worlds. It’s a constant negotiation between discipline and chaos, between order and rebellion.
This is not just music; it’s a form of personal alchemy, a process of turning the lead of a structured past into the gold of an artistic future.
Tomonori's Latest Single 'Lantern' Is A Shimmering Beacon
Tomonori, a Japanese-Irish artist, producer, and songwriter, has a knack for crafting music that is both intellectually stimulating and emotionally resonant.
His work is a philosophical vehicle, a means of exploring the complexities of the human condition.
With ‘Lantern,’ the first single from his forthcoming sophomore album, “Hypernonchalant“, Tomonori continues this exploration, offering a sound that is at once familiar and refreshingly new.
The track, co-produced with the platinum-selling French producer YDTHXGRT, is a kaleidoscope of sounds. It opens with a sense of quiet introspection, the lyrics painting a picture of a mind sinking into a dreamlike state.
Moment I sense it by chance, Sand touches my toes subliminally, Pink noise flickering so fast it’s slo-mo, Breathing it through skin, my mind keeps sinking.
The imagery is vivid, almost tactile, drawing the listener into Tomonori’s inner world.
But this is not a song that dwells in darkness. The title itself, ‘Lantern,’ suggests a source of light, a guide through the shadows. And the music reflects this.
The track builds from its quiet beginnings into a vibrant mix of Afropop rhythms, indie pop melodies, and electronic textures.
The result is a sound that is both danceable and thought-provoking, a combination that is not easily achieved.
One of the most striking aspects of ‘Lantern’ is its exploration of what Tomonori calls “21st-century trauma.” This is not the overt, dramatic trauma of a Hollywood film, but the subtle, pervasive anxieties of modern life.
The lyrics speak of being “hyper-vigilant in a new ray,” of a mind that is constantly on alert. This is a feeling that many of us can relate to, the sense of being overwhelmed by the constant stream of information and stimulation that defines our age.
But ‘Lantern’ is not a song about despair. It is a song about resilience, about finding light in the darkness.
The production on ‘Lantern’ is impeccable. The mix, by Austin Leeds, is clean and crisp, allowing each element of the track to shine. The Afropop influences are particularly well-integrated, adding a layer of rhythmic complexity that is often missing from contemporary pop music.
The interplay between Tomonori’s vocals and the intricate instrumentation is a joy to listen to, a testament to the skill of all involved.
It is interesting to consider ‘Lantern’ in the context of other art forms. The song’s dreamlike quality and its exploration of the subconscious mind bring to mind the surrealist paintings of Salvador Dalí.
Tomonori’s Latest Single ‘Lantern’ Is A Shimmering Beacon
Like Dalí, Tomonori is not afraid to explore the strange and irrational, to create a world that is both beautiful and unsettling. The single’s artwork, by cerulean stoicism MMXXV, further enhances this connection, with its abstract imagery and muted color palette.
‘Lantern’ is a song that rewards repeated listening. With each listen, new layers of meaning and new sonic details reveal themselves.
It is a song that is both of its time and outside of time, a reflection of our current moment and a timeless exploration of the human spirit. It is a song that will stay with you long after the final notes have faded.
Tomonori is an artist who is making music with substance. He is an artist who is not afraid to ask big questions, to explore the dark corners of the human psyche.
With ‘Lantern,’ he has given us a song that is both a work of art and a source of comfort, a beacon to guide us through the sonic fog.
The prospect of a full album of this quality is an exciting one indeed. Hypernonchalant may just be one of the most interesting releases of the year.
The Soothing Vibrations of Shelita’s "I’m So In Love With You"
There is a distinct, almost anti-gravitational buoyancy to the latest release from Shelita, titled “I’m So In Love With You”, that defies the typical heaviness associated with profound emotional declarations. Listening to this track is a bit like staring at the ceiling at 4 AM not in insomnia-induced panic, but in that rare, lucid state where the silence of the house feels protective rather than lonely.
Musically, the song operates in the warm waters of conscious Pop and R&B. The production is spacious, built on atmospheric synthesizer pads that expand like helium balloons against a ceiling. The rhythm is driven by a programmed, downtempo beat where the kick drum hits deep in the chest, while the snare snaps with the crisp precision of cracking a fresh glow stick a brief flash of light in the sonic dark.
The Soothing Vibrations of Shelita’s “I’m So In Love With You”
However, the context creates the real texture here. Learning that Shelita penned this anthem of connection from a hospital bed following a skydiving accident recontextualizes every note. It creates a fascinating dissonance. You expect pain, but you get levity. Her vocals are airy and dreamlike, floating with a reverb-soaked quality that prioritizes intimacy over sheer power. It brings to mind The Overview Effect that cognitive shift astronauts report when viewing Earth from space. The love described here isn’t messy or desperate; it’s celestial. It treats romantic vibration as a form of reconstruction.
The track moves with a soothing, weightless energy that suggests resilience is quiet work. It’s an auditory gold repair (think Kintsugi) for the spirit. By the time the synth leads fade out, the song has done something strange to the room you’re sitting in: it makes the air feel thinner, easier to breathe.
If gravity can break us, can a frequency put us back together?
Emmanuel Juddah has put out a new song called “Great Faith (Gyidi Kese Bi)” that features Shadrack Yeboah and Graceland Music.
The song is about having a lot of faith and is supposed to be both a spiritual anchor and a source of support for people who are going through tough times in life.
The song’s emotive lyrics remind people that faith is more than simply a belief; it’s a passionate belief in God.
Emmanuel Juddah’s melody and Shadrack Yeboah and Graceland Music’s delivery give people hope, lift their spirits, and inspire those about to give up.
This song’s connection between scripture and real life makes the message more real by linking it to both spiritual truth and experiences that people can understand.
The song “Great Faith (Gyidi Kese Bi)” is meant to help people feel more certain of God’s presence and power, and it does just that.
Listen to the song on your preferred music platform here
The Widows: Stripping Back the Glamour on "Bardo Blues"
With The Widows and their jagged new single “Bardo Blues”, the speakers don’t just output sound; they seem to physically sweat. From the opening seconds, this track captures the exact frequency of a nervous breakdown occurring in a dimly lit restroom of a venue that definitely violates several health codes.
This London quartet, Kim Le Tan, Francesco Manzi, Roger Salsas, and Vince Johnson, has been cutting their teeth on the legacy of The Stooges and The Cramps, but here they’ve stripped the glamour away, leaving only the raw, twitching nerves. The instrumentation creates a frantic, claustrophobic box. We are hit with a driving, fuzzy bassline that feels like the onset of a migraine, battling against jangly, distorted guitars that cut and scrape like steel wool on a sunburn. It is garage rock, certainly, but it carries the Post-Punk revivalist torch into a very dark cave.
Somewhere in the distortion, I found myself inexplicably thinking about the smell of ozone right before a storm hits that static charge that makes the hair on your arms stand up.
The Widows: Stripping Back the Glamour on “Bardo Blues”
That tension mirrors the song’s terrifying philosophy. The lyrics grapple with identity dissolution, that dizzying unmooring from reality where “self” becomes a slippery concept. The vocalist delivers a performance that is raw and strained, sliding into a mumbled spoken cadence during the bridge that feels less like a performance and more like a confession you weren’t supposed to hear. It’s a desperate plea for regression, a desire to crawl back into a primal oblivion rather than face the confusing geometry of the present.
“Bardo Blues” is a frantic, gritty, and anxious piece of art. It’s aggressive catharsis that leaves you wondering: are you listening to the music, or is the music watching you fall apart?
With Oli Ng and his latest release, “Steadfast,” I found myself suddenly transported away from my cluttered desk and into a passenger seat, watching telephone wires loop and dip against a setting sun. You know that specific physical sensation when you stop checking the speedometer because you trust the driver with your life? This track bottles that. It’s the sonic equivalent of finally unclenched teeth.
Musically, it’s remarkably devoid of ego. The acoustic guitar keeps a rhythm that is functional and sturdy, like good denim. It’s driven, yes, but not in a hurry, a crucial distinction in an era where everything else feels like it’s screaming at 1.5x speed. The bass and drums arrive with the reliability of gravity, grounding the whole affair.
Ng’s voice, a warm and conversational tenor, doesn’t try to sell you the lyrics; he just tells you the truth. It reminds me, oddly, of the satisfaction found in watching videos of rusty tools being restored, that gentle, repetitive scraping away of modern grime to reveal the clean, shining metal underneath. As the background keyboards wash in, subtle as dust motes dancing in a window beam, the track swells into a communal exhale. The harmonies in the chorus add this rich texture, taking the solitary worry of the narrator and wrapping it in cotton wool.
Oli Ng Offers a Sonic Exhale in “Steadfast”
It navigates the Indie Folk lane, certainly, but it bypasses the melancholia often found there. Instead, it offers a sturdy, solar-plexus warmth. It dares to argue that surrendering control isn’t weakness, but a biological necessity.
It leaves you wondering, in the silence immediately following the final chord: when was the last time you actually felt safe enough to let go of the wheel?
Lana Crow Tackles Modern Chaos in “Orwellian Times”
There is a specific kind of melodic stride in Lana Crow’s new release, “Orwellian Times,” that reminds me, quite vividly, of the way people walk when they’re late for a meeting they know is going to be an absolute disaster. It is brisk, purposeful, and rhythmically catchy, yet underpinned by a distinct, vibrating anxiety. This British singer-songwriter has crafted a track that feels less like a song and more like a nervous system response to the morning news.
Crow possesses a voice that sounds like it has been steeped in strong black tea and resignation. It is soulful, with a rasp that catches the ear like velvet dragging over concrete. In the verses, her delivery is weary and conversational, akin to a friend muttering conspiracies to you in the back of a damp taxi before the chorus erupts into a powerful, projecting lament. It creates a fascinating friction against the instrumentation. The electric guitars offer clean, rhythmic strumming that suggests order, only to be sliced open by a distorted solo that screams of mental clutter and static.
Lana Crow Tackles Modern Chaos in “Orwellian Times”
The track is deceptively groovy. A driving melodic bassline compels you to move, which feels ironic considering the lyrical content tackles the paralysis of moral fatigue and the manufactured outrage of our digital existence. It made me think, strangely, of 17th-century masquerade balls, where everyone danced in unison while wearing masks to hide their true intents. Crow captures that modern equivalent: the performance of righteousness while we collectively lose grip on who actually holds the reins.
It creates a cynical, alt-pop atmosphere where the hook draws you in, but the message leaves a sour, metallic taste in your mouth. Ultimately, are we dancing to the rhythm of the song, or just marching to the beat of the algorithm?
Phoebe Huisman Constructs a Museum of Youth on “Inside”
Phoebe Huisman and the release “Inside” arrived in my speakers like the sudden, sharp scent of rain hitting hot asphalt familiar, grounding, and weirdly emotional. There is something unnerving about how accurately this collection of songs maps the topographical mess of being a teenager. Huisman, a singer-songwriter with the technical chops of a Distinction-grade vocalist and the heart of a poet, has essentially constructed a museum of her own adolescence (specifically the years between fourteen and seventeen) and invited us to walk through the exhibits without touching the glass.
The album opens with the title track, “Inside”, establishing a friction that defines the record: the exhausting labor of maintaining a polite facade while the mind runs laps around a track of anxieties. It sounds like the moment you realize you’re holding your breath in a crowded room. This feeling of containment bleeds into “No Want” and “But Thats Not Her”, tracks that explore the claustrophobia of being perceived incorrectly. Listening to Huisman’s vocals often draped in a cavernous reverb I found myself thinking about that specific panic of a moth hitting a lightbulb. It’s that desperate energy to escape the heat of judgment, interpreted through indie-pop guitars and earnest piano lines.
Phoebe Huisman Constructs a Museum of Youth on “Inside”
Huisman doesn’t linger solely in victimization, though. “Hypocrites” and “Nemesis” bring a delightful edge to the proceedings. They tackle the specific toxicity of two-faced peers with a rhythmic bite that feels like finally snapping a pencil in half during a silent exam jarring and incredibly satisfying. There is a palpable refusal to be “civilized” in tracks like “Untamed” and “I See Ya”. Here, the artist invites her “shadow self” to the dinner table. It’s a celebration of the weird, erratic parts of our personality that usually get edited out of the social script.
Yet, for all its rebellion, the album’s emotional anchor lies in its vulnerability. “Not That Lucky” and “Look at Me” hit a frequency of loneliness that feels blue and deep, like the bottom of a chlorinated pool. But the narrative arc bends toward light. “Settle Down” navigates the sticky web of family dynamics with maturity, acknowledging that shared blood is a bond you stretch but never truly break. By the time we reach “Dancing in the Rain”, the storms are no longer something to hide from, but an element to be endured with grace.
Phoebe Huisman Constructs a Museum of Youth on “Inside”
The record closes with “Photograph”, a track that captures the ephemeral nature of happiness. It made me think of how memory works not like a film reel, but like a series of flashes in a dark room. Huisman moves through Pop, Indie, and Acoustic landscapes, using her training not to show off, but to facilitate a necessary purge of the past.
We often tell teenagers that these years will pass, but we rarely acknowledge how loud they are while they are happening. Huisman has bottled that noise and turned it into melody. Does true peace come from quieting the mind, or from finally letting it scream on key?
Rellyo Bambini with "Cloned & Upgraded Insert Soul Here (Rebirth Edition)"
To engage with the sprawling, twenty-eight-track behemoth that is Rellyo Bambini’s “Cloned & Upgraded, Insert Soul Here (Rebirth Edition)” is to willingly plug your neural pathways into a mainframe that is rapidly overheating. Most artists treat albums like curated dinner parties; Bambini has thrown a rave in a server farm where the dress code is ‘Cyberpunk Baroque’ and the appetizers are flavored like anxious memories.
There is a moment, somewhere amidst the collision of punchy electronic drum machines and wobbling synthesizers, where I suddenly recalled the taste of a 9-volt battery I foolishly licked as a child that sharp, electric tang of metal and energy. This record offers a similar shock to the senses.
The sheer volume of material here suggests a manic download of consciousness. The instrumentation doesn’t so much blend as it does violently argue and then embrace. Heavy basslines from the EDM sphere elbow their way past orchestral strings, creating a friction that shouldn’t work, yet undeniably does. It mirrors the chaos of scrolling through a social media feed at 3 AM: a satire of digital finance culture sits uncomfortably next to a sincere, heartbreaking meditation on death and legacy. You find yourself dancing to a critique of deceptive internet personas, only to be slapped in the face by a wave of Cinematic Soul that demands you sit down and reckon with your own mortality.
Rellyo Bambini with “Cloned & Upgraded Insert Soul Here (Rebirth Edition)”
It creates a highly mercurial atmosphere. The shift from aggressive defiance to dreamlike introspection happens with the speed of a strobe light. One minute you are in a neon-lit, dystopian dreamscape chasing authenticity; the next, you are adrift in a melancholic serenity that feels like staring at rain through a window in a high-rise mega-structure.
What strikes me most isn’t the futuristic vision, but how remarkably human the messiness feels. In an era of polished algorithms, Bambini offers twenty-eight distinct fractals of the human condition, packaged in chrome but bleeding red. It refuses to categorize itself Indie Pop, Alternative Hip-Hop, and Synth-pop are merely costumes worn by a restless spirit.
Rellyo Bambini with “Cloned & Upgraded Insert Soul Here (Rebirth Edition)”
This collection doesn’t ask for your passive attention; it demands your RAM. By the end, you aren’t quite sure if you’ve been upgraded or formatted, but the static in your head hums a beautiful tune. Can a cyborg heart break with the same intensity as a biological one?
The Elephant Man Unleashes Raw Power with Sister of War
Sister of War is one of the strongest and most emotionally intense songs of The Elephant Man but not only so- it is a song that sets the bleak truth of the modern world, and perverts it into dark and throbbing rock energy! The song was created out of a monotonous, hypnotic bass rhythm, and it makes you want to pay attention to it right at the very beginning since it is tense and circular and invies you to sink into the hole with each beat. The intensity is stacked upon as the song progresses with heavy guitars and harsh vocal lines marching the song into a chorus that seems to be a gasping breath of air in a raging storm!
The band is not afraid to combine the darkwave, post-industrial rock, blues-infused rhythms, and electronic textures, resulting in the sound that reveals their extremely broad scope of influences: the classic 70s rock up to the contemporary alternative textures of the cutting edge.
Its lyrics are outspoken about injustice, doubt and the emotional rifts that are being created in our current time and presents a strong voice of anger, perseverance and a very weak but undying sense of hope. It is an uncivilized response to the surrounding world, and a naked mirror flung up to look back in!
Sister of War is another masterful showcasing of the progress of the band since the time of their last composition, Sinners. The music is more unchecked, dark and brutal than ever and yet is incredibly emotional. The song is really alive when performed live and every audience can relate it right away with its blistering energy and its pressing message!
Daring, psycho-aroun, and highly human, Sister of War is nothing short of an entirely defining moment of The Elephant Man, such is the band at its bravest and most effective!
“What inspired the writing of “Sister of War,” and what story or emotions are you expressing in this track?
The music bleeds into the world around us: harsh times and heavy injustices echo through the atmosphere and through the lyrics of this song. Sister of War absorbs the tension and uncertainty of the present moment, turning them into sound and emotion. Its verses reflect the conflicts and fractures that shape our daily lives, even from afar, giving voice to the anger, resilience, and fragile hope that emerge in difficult times. In this way, the song becomes both an expression and a reflection of the world we inhabit. The video further amplifies this message, completing with images what we sought to convey through the music.
How does “Sister of War” fit within the overall theme or narrative of your latest album? We believe that Art — real Art, with a capital “A” — is always a product of its age. And ours is an age scarred by injustice, where the ideals of peace and fairness are routinely trampled in the name of profit and power. We’re living through years of raw, unfiltered chaos, the kind our generation hoped it would never have to face — especially in a part of the world that liked to think it had “evolved” beyond the mistakes of the past. That sense of chaos is present.
The song features a blend of darkwave and post-industrial rock elements—how did you craft its distinctive sound? It all traces back to the many genres we love and that influence us, sometimes even unconsciously. We’re shaped by a wide range of musical styles, Alternative rock, 70’s rock, stoner, 80’ new wave and electronic, prog, punk, and we love music from the ’70s all the way to today. So, for example, a synth part might feel driving and very contemporary, while the chorus shifts into a shuffle rhythm that recalls blues influences.
We’re shaped by a wide range of musical styles
Then we might come up with a very repetitive, impactful vocal hook without thinking of any specific sound, and only later, through arranging and production, give it a completely different sonic foundation. The process is absolutely free and creative.
What message or feeling do you hope listeners take away from “Sister of war”? Music is experienced by each listener in their own way, of course. We hope the energy of the track reaches the audience. We also believe that a song like this can offer the listener an experience of awareness—a momentary reflection on the dangers of the historical moment we are living through.
Can you walk us through the creative process behind this song, from songwriting to production? The track was born from a repetitive, hypnotic bass groove that grabbed us from the very first moment. Its cadence drags you in, obsessive and circular, until it finally opens up in the chorus — a brief escape route from the track’s relentless, hammering riff. The guitars hit hard yet stay deliberately sculpted, almost in the vein of The Elephant Man style. Initially, the synth line belonged to the bass, but we realized that running it through a synth unlocked the exact tone we were chasing.
The final section whit these strong vocal parts sharpens and amplifies the message, driving the tension to its peak.
“SISTER OF WAR” seems to grapple with themes of truth, inner conflict, and transformation. How do these ideas resonate with you personally? M: We’re all part of the same game.
Some people are crushed by it, others try to expose it, to exorcise it.
It’s hard to stay outside of it.
It’s like a blob that gets on all of us, staining everyone.
Every track on REDEMPTION is somehow connected.
The common thread is the distortion of reality and the desperate need to redeem ourselves and break free from it.
Are we ready?
How does this track reflect your evolution as a band since your earlier releases? The sound of the band has evolved in a completely natural way. We’ve become far more aware of our own territory. In some moments the style cuts deeper and pushes further: the dark side surfaces more fiercely than on Sinners, and a raw, untamed energy breaks through in several tracks, like Sister of war. The same is true for the more intimate and vaporous songs, like Dance of the Hollow, where we pushed the idea of silence-as-sound to a new level — stripping the music down until it became a true dance in the void.
How do you balance musical intensity with emotional depth in your songwriting? We write far beyond any mainstream expectation — sometimes the chorus arrives two minutes in, which is sheer madness in a world where the “rules” demand a hook within ten seconds. For us, the band is a space of absolute inspiration, a place where we can unleash ourselves without compromise.
The creative process can vary a lot: sometimes it’s a guitar riff that sparks the initial idea, other times it starts from a more fully formed concept or a bass line. Then, during the production phase, we always look for musical parts that enrich the piece and serve the song, never elements that exist just for their own sake.
What has been the fan and critical response to “Sister of War” so far? Sister of War has been very well received; the rhythm of the track gets people moving and the energy is palpable. During live performances the audience is highly engaged, and it will definitely remain an integral part of our shows. Each time we play it, we feel a strong connection with the crowd, and the song seems to take on new life on stage.
Are there any upcoming live performances, videos, or projects connected to this song? Sister of War is of course part of our live set, and it is generally very well received by the audience. Recently, it was also the subject of a lecture at an important Italian university, which explored the connection between art and the contemporary international situation.
How do you envision the next chapter of your music following the release of “Sister of War”? At the moment, our focus is on securing opportunities to bring our live show across the world. We’re continuously exploring new booking agencies and looking for chances to play clubs and festivals wherever our music is welcomed and called for. Once this chapter of live shows unfolds, we’ll dive headfirst into the creative process and begin shaping the writing of our third album.
Stephen Dowd Navigates Nostalgia in "Play Me A Christmas Song"
With the release of the single “Play Me A Christmas Song”, Stephen Dowd manages to bottle the very specific, blue-hued silence that falls over a living room once the wrapping paper has been cleared away. It is a curious thing, really, how a melody can act less like a sound wave and more like the smell of a candle that was blown out five minutes ago—lingering, smoky, and intimately familiar.
Dowd, usually known for balancing the kinetics of dance and rock, pivots here into a contemporary pop ballad that drips with R&B soulfulness. The atmosphere is cozy, certainly, but it’s the coziness of a heavy wool blanket that scratches your skin just enough to remind you it’s there. Listening to his vocal performance, I found myself inexplicably thinking about the acoustics of an empty museum at night. There is a resonance in his delivery that suggests he isn’t singing to a crowd, but trying to fill a void left by people who have exited the frame.
The track rejects the manic jingle-bell anxiety of the season in favor of a cinematic longing. It navigates the treacherous waters of nostalgia without capsizing into cheese. Instead, it feels like finding a receipt in the pocket of a winter coat you haven’t worn in years—a mundane artifact that suddenly carries the crushing weight of a lost afternoon.
Stephen Dowd Navigates Nostalgia in “Play Me A Christmas Song”
The production swells with a melancholy grace, supporting lyrics that argue the only true holiday decoration is shared history. It’s emotionally dynamic, moving from the quiet desperation of loss to the warm, albeit bittersweet, comfort of remembrance.
When the music fades, you aren’t left reaching for eggnog; you’re left taking stock of who is sitting next to you, and more poignantly, who isn’t. Does the spirit of Christmas live in the noise, or does it only truly arrive when we are quiet enough to hear the echoes of the past?
