Lifted from their fifth and final studio album, Kodaline return with their new single ‘We Were Only Young’, via Concord Records.

‘We Were Only Young’ is a deeply emotive piano ballad from the Irish quartet, who have long been known for pairing intimate songwriting with widescreen emotional release, and this single feels like a culmination of that identity; restrained in its opening moments yet gradually swelling into something far more expansive and cinematic.

Built around a simple piano motif, the track leans into vulnerability rather than spectacle, allowing Steve Garrigan’s vocal to sit front and centre as it traces the ache of nostalgia. Lyrically, it reflects on the hazy glow of youth, where memories are softened by time and regret is tempered by affection. There is a quiet honesty in how the song refuses to idealise the past, instead acknowledging that growing up often means accepting irretrievable moments.

As the arrangement builds, sweeping strings and layered harmonies elevate the emotional stakes without ever overwhelming the core melody. This dynamic restraint is a hallmark of Kodaline’s most affecting work, where simplicity becomes a vessel for sincerity. The chorus lands with a gentle inevitability, more catharsis than climax, echoing the idea that memory itself is both beautiful and painful in equal measure.

In the context of Kodaline’s trajectory, from breakout success with In a Perfect World to their current closing chapter, ‘We Were Only Young’ feels like a fitting farewell. It doesn’t chase reinvention so much as it embraces clarity, offering a distilled version of everything the band has always done well. There is a sense of gratitude embedded within the song, as though it is speaking not only to the listener but also to the years the band has shared together.

As a final statement from a band that has soundtracked a generation of heartfelt indie-pop, ‘We Were Only Young’ resonates less as a goodbye and more as a gentle closing of a chapter that was always rooted in emotional transparency. The production is polished yet intimate, balancing radio-ready sheen with the kind of rawness that made Kodaline’s earliest work so resonant. While it may not seek to break new ground stylistically, it succeeds in reaffirming the band’s core strengths: melody, sincerity, and emotional directness. In an era often defined by overstated production and fleeting attention spans, there is something quietly enduring about a song that chooses stillness and reflection over spectacle. It stands as both a tribute to youth and a recognition of time’s inevitable forward motion, leaving listeners with a lingering sense of warmth and farewell.

Framed as part of their final studio chapter, it feels like a graceful exit that lingers long after the final note fades, offering closure without finality in equal measure.

Words by Danielle Holian

LØLØ has always had the kind of lyrical instincts that feel like they’ve been prised straight from the Notes app at 2:14am, autocorrect off, emotions on fire. On, god forbid a girl spits out her feelings, the Toronto artist sharpens that impulse into something louder, brasher, and far more self-aware; an album that treats emotional oversharing not as a flaw but as fuel. If her debut was about numbing out the chaos, this second full-length finds her rolling around in it, glitter on her cheeks, guitar feedback in her hair, smiling through the damage.

The title track opens like a raised eyebrow. ‘god forbid a girl spits out her feelings!’ is all attitude and bite, a mission statement disguised as a hook-heavy alt-pop punch-up. There’s sarcasm here, but it isn’t hollow; it’s defensive, almost exhausted, like she’s pre-empting every criticism before it can land. The irony is that in doing so, she makes herself more exposed than ever. It’s a clever sleight of hand: confession dressed up as confrontation.

From there, LØLØ wastes little time tightening the screws. ‘me with no shirt on’ and the already familiar ‘the devil wears converse’ slot into her established universe of messy attraction and sharper-than-you-think songwriting. The production leans into glossy pop-rock, but there’s always something slightly frayed at the edges, guitars that feel just a little too loud, choruses that teeter on collapse before snapping neatly back into place. It mirrors the emotional logic of the record itself: controlled chaos, barely contained spirals.

One of the album’s standout moments arrives early with ‘dumbest girl in the world’, a track that weaponises self-deprecation until it circles back into something closer to self-preservation. It’s playful, almost cartoonish in its melodic bounce, but the lyrics land with a sting. LØLØ isn’t just laughing at herself; she’s interrogating the patterns she can’t quite break. The contrast between sugary hooks and bruised honesty is where she thrives, and here it feels fully dialled in.

That push-and-pull continues through ‘hung up on u’ and ‘delusional darling’, two tracks that sit comfortably in the album’s emotional middle. Both orbit obsession in different forms, post-breakup fixation, romantic denial, and the familiar habit of building entire narratives out of half-read messages and imagined glances. LØLØ doesn’t moralise any of it. Instead, she documents the mess with unnerving clarity, letting the contradiction stand: she knows better, and she does it anyway.

Mid-record highlight ‘the punisher’ sharpens things further. Built on jagged alt-rock textures and a performance that oscillates between restraint and eruption, it captures the compulsive ritual of digital post-breakup self-torture. The detail is almost uncomfortably precise, the kind of lyricism that makes you realise you’ve absolutely done the same thing and simply refused to admit it. There’s humour in it, but it’s the wince-inducing kind, the laugh-you-make-while-closing-the-tab kind.

Elsewhere, ‘007’ injects a flash of swagger, all distorted edges and spy-movie theatrics filtered through pop-punk sarcasm. It’s one of the record’s lighter touches, but even here there’s emotional double-dealing at play: desire tangled with suspicion, attraction laced with exit strategies. Nothing in LØLØ’s world is straightforward, not even the fun bits.

As the album progresses, tracks like ‘stuff like that’ and ‘whiskey & coke’ lean into a softer haze, but they’re never fully safe. Even the breezier moments feel like they’re glancing over their shoulder. ‘american zombie’ keeps the thematic thread alive, skewering emotionally unavailable partners with tongue firmly in cheek, while ‘boy who doesn’t want to’ slows things down into something more reflective, letting the hooks breathe rather than snap.

By the time ‘lobotomy & u’ arrives, the emotional tone has settled into something almost eerily calm. Stripped-back acoustics frame one of LØLØ’s most direct vocal performances, and the imagery cuts deep without needing volume to do the work. It’s less an ending than an exhale, an admission that clarity and confusion often live side by side.

What holds ‘god forbid a girl spits out her feelings’ together is not sonic reinvention, but emotional consistency. LØLØ isn’t trying to outgrow her hypersensitivity; she’s refining it, turning it into a coherent aesthetic language. At times, the uniformity of tone can blur the edges between tracks, but the payoff is a record that feels singular in voice and intent.

Where restraint gets mistaken for emotional intelligence, LØLØ opts out entirely, feeling too much, too loudly, and saying it exactly as it lands. It’s chaotic, occasionally unhinged, but never careless. Against the odds, it sticks the landing.

Words by Danielle Holian

The legend  of the art rock scene herself Kim Gordon delivers a rage against artificial intelligence and a celebration of self-identity at 02 Shepherd’s Bush, with excellent support from rising Brighton outfit Lonnie Gunn.  

Most artists who have reached the level of fame that Kim Gordon has tend to play it safe; but the ex-Sonic Youth frontwoman has never been one to relieve past glories. Her solo career is illustrious, and the new chapter Play Me feels like an evolution of sorts further from what has come before, offering something completely different, new – a defying rallying cry about the refusal to be boxed in. At 72, she shows more creativity than most artists half her age. 

Her opening act is Brighton heroes Lonnie Gunn, recently signed up to play at The Great Escape festival next month in May. The New Jersey native fronts a band full of talented musicians to play on what they acknowledge is the biggest night of their lives and their career so far – to play at an iconic venue like Shepherd’s pard’s Bush; supporting Kim Gordon – you believe their authentic and that they’re the real deal. Gunn herself has a cool, effortless charisma to her that makes her ascent to stardom almost inevitable in the same way artists like TTSSFU and Girl in the Year Above feel like the next big buzzy thing, that kind of confidence that screams “this is a star, right here” that support acts often lack. 

Lonnie Gunn and the band feel like they belong on venues as big as this from the moment they step foot on it – “Lovebite” is an intoxicating single that draws in bedroom pop as a source of inspiration; a melancholic sense of dreamlike tendencies that feels nostalgic in parts. The new song: “Good Girls Get to Heaven”, gets a cheer from a largely young women-based audience that have turned up early, mixed in with the Radio 6 dad stalwarts probably old enough to have seen Sonic Youth when they were a band. 

The adoring crowd pack out 02 Shepherd’s Bush long before Gordon herself shows up on stage so are really excited by the time she does. The last time Kim Gordon played in Shepherd’s Bush was 26 years ago – and she comes onto new single “PLAY ME” (everything on this album is stylised in all caps, whereas earlier work often isn’t) to raptous cheers. It’s a run through of the whole album pretty much – eleven tracks feature in a no-nonsense approach. It’s basically an album show; with bonus songs from The Collective mixed in throughout. 

It’s a mixture of industrial dub and trap music which give it the edge and the unique blend of noise keeps it going – stripped back, intimate beyond the usual big flashy popstar show: aside from the visuals there isn’t much need for a big stage production, but this is a Kim Gordon show, you’re going for an icon of the art rock scene herself that has never stopped finding a way to reinvent and offer something new. “PLAY ME” is hip-hop, its catchy beats lulling the audience into a dance-y groove from the word go, and “GIRL WITH A LOOK” diverts into a no-wave gothic, almost Ethel Cain; almost Jehnny Beth approach of diverting rage and anger – it’s lazy enough to reference any alt-rock stars operating in this sphere because after all, where would they be without the genre’s godmother guiding the way in the first place? Gordon has also said she doesn’t listen to modern pop – so if anything, chances are high it’s Cain cribbing from Sonic Youth. 

Her voice avoids the need for anything traditional and we’re seeing experimental in full swing here; effortlessly drifting between genres one song to the next. 

It isn’t until the back half of the set that we get a transition from “PLAY ME” into The Collective, her 2024 album, but what comes before and her new record is pure gold, one of 2026’s finest works to date. To spend so much time in it is a real treasure: “BLACK OUT” is on all cylinders – and “NO HANDS” fills the air with tension; erratic and almost a commentary on the state of the nation in which she operates in – the wit is as clever as ever, and whilst the lyrics aren’t exactly subtle: one of Gordon’s recent remarks was that it was hard to talk about anything with subtly in this day and age – but the blunter edge of PLAY ME leans into a more formative, literal style and it almost seems too addictive to resist when played live. The minimalist stage presence lends to this blunter style: there’s no need for flashy showboating; the lyrics do all the talking for you.

Sticking to the Beth-esque vibes of the set the back-end sees the deployment of “I’m A Man” (both have collaborated on ECHOES before for ARTE in France), “it’s not my fault I was born a man // come on Zeus take my hand / jump on my back // ‘cause I’m a man” she has men place the blame on their failures for just being men; how they can simply just buy out of anything by just going ‘oh, I’m a man’, as though their gender is an excuse for their flaws. It’s powerful, provocative and a great way at drawing in the crowd; a trap beat that kind of flows at the edge of the world, offering a lengthy satire on the toxicity of the industry that grinds you in and spits you out again. It’s her view of the world through a toxic male – steeped in its muscular takedown of toxic masculinity. As songs go it’s my favourite of the night – and holds up just as much live as it does on record.

A 20 song set is more than most who use this big stage care to give us – “Trophies”, “It’s Dark Inside” and “Psychedelic Orgasm” come next – embracing the deadpan nature of it all wrapped up inside a trappier angle – and it almost feels like in itself it is the ghost of an entire pop genre: hard to pin down, never not exciting. It leans into touches of cyberpunk at times reflecting the world that we live in and the choices of the songs from The Collective aid the visuals and the themes of the piece: criticising AI, criticising those who view the body itself as evil – it’s an all guns blazing celebration of the artform and the freedom of expression and self-identity. A rage against the dying of the light – on “DIRTY TECH” she asks the audience how they’d react if their next boss was a robot – “terminatin’ with a steady hand”, maximising the pure brilliance of the synth-base that just growls and growls to peak live perfection.

Words by Miles Milton-Jefferies

“Saying goodbye is the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do.” So says Charlie Rolfe, the lead vocalist of As Everything Unfolds, as ‘GASOLINE’ allows their new album to take its first real, shuddering breath around five minutes in. In mid-2024, the band, riding high after Ultraviolet and support runs with Enter Shikari & Bury Tomorrow (more on them later) were brought crashing down to earth by the unexpected death of drummer Jamie Gower. His presence is thankfully all over the record; they were mid-way through making it a reality when tragedy struck, and faced the loss head on, completing it with an eventual 11 songs making the cut. 

Two years later, the quartet—Rolfe, Adam Kerr (guitar), George Hunt (bass) and filled out by Jon Cassidy on keys and synths—have signed to Century Media with their most ambitious work in hand, not to mention their most relentless. The listener should take those moments of pause where they come, because once ‘DENIAL’ allows ‘DID YOU ASK TO BE SET FREE?’ to spark into life, there’s little in the way of breathing room. Along the way, bold experimentation is the record’s calling card, with last year’s sharp left turn ‘SET IN FLOW’ slotting neatly into context as just one example of AEU stepping well outside their comfort zone, opting for focus on texture and dynamics than a typical song structure, its stuttering chorus and drum-and-bass heft signalling that the band were loathe to repeat themselves this time.

Continuous refinement, on the other hand, rears its head in other places: the jagged riff that drives ‘POINT OF VIEW’ should be a real crowd-pleaser in a live setting, while ‘FIND ANOTHER WAY’ places pop sensibility front and centre, a prime example of the band’s blending of accessibility and heaviness, both musical and lyrical. They’ve outgrown their own expectations of what this project should be (“escaping the confines is oh so freeing”, per ‘BREAK IT AWAY’, folding in unexpected influences and adapting them to their ever-expanding universe. A sprinkling of breakbeats here, a helping of brutality there… it’s quite the developed recipe at this point, and they’re working with some surprising ingredients, such as roping in Dani Winter-Bates of UK modern metal luminaries Bury Tomorrow for a bruising guest feature on ‘WHAT YOU WANTED’.

We mentioned them earlier, and that collaboration came about as naturally as anything, starting with a text sent Dani’s way after their late 2024 tour together. The result is an absolute crusher, taking lyrical inspiration from The Shining and musical cues from Bury Tomorrow themselves, doing justice to the feature and then some. Similar face-melting heaviness is found immediately thereafter on ‘IDOLS’, and it’s a punishing one-two which takes the album’s relentless streak to new heights, before the comparatively serene ‘REVERIE’ (a genuine surprise the band could only pull off right now) and ‘EDGE OF FOREVER’ take things in a more overtly melancholic direction.

Closer ‘SETTING SUN’ is steeped in grief, written for their departed drummer and directly concerning his tragic passing. It’s gutting yet undeniably cathartic, an ideal tribute which had to be made to provide any sense of closure. There’s an alternate timeline where the grief-stricken band hangs it up in the wake of that loss. It would have been completely understandable, but As Everything Unfolds hit a wall and instead barrelled through it with everything they had. They are firmly on the way up, leaving behind their metalcore trappings for cross-genre experimentalism, feeling the fear and doing it anyway on an album it must have been unbearably hard to complete. DID YOU ASK TO BE SET FREE? draws a tear-stained line in the sand; and the result is, fittingly enough, true liberation, as the band settles into the best version of themselves. Where they head from here is anyone’s guess, but you’re damn right they’ve done Jamie Gower proud.

Words by Gareth O'Malley

Blood Wizard’s free flowing experimental approach takes them into a new chapter. 

One of the songs that I have been humming since I first heard it was Blood Wizard’s earworm Devil Dressed in Disguise, and ever since that memorable album and the now-legendary show at Sebright Arms with Truthpaste supporting; the project of Nottingham’s own Kagoule’s Cai Burns, has only gone from strength to strength; adding Faye Rita Robinson, Sebastian Buestone and Adrian Vitelleschi Cook to it for an outfit that’s as much about collaboration as creativity. Lucky Life is instantly fully formed, written in South London and dips into more experimental territory: “I’m just waiting for my lucky life to begin,” Burns says before the beat kicks in on lead single; and it quickly drifts into experimental territory that isn’t afraid to throw things at the wall and feel what sticks. “God’s gift I could turn this all around,” Burns sings – about the struggles and the constant belief that things no matter how bad they get will get better just around the corner someday. 

The follow up to 2024 album Grinning William marks a new chapter for Blood Wizard; a bridge if you will, between what came before and what comes next. Daydreaming is the lead single – it comes last on the five-track record and taps into lyrics about being checked out and missing home “now I’m as homesick as seabirds and now I’m on my way home / I know what door I’ll be knocking on” the lyrics capture the allure of being caught again, daydreaming, in a daze that’s impossible to wake up from, thinking of someone else. It pairs wonderfully with the false optimism of Lucky Life and works as a perfect loop for the five tracks start and end.

Nestled in the middle of the record – I Know you Well, Lick the Big Star and Scared of the Dark are all hits. I Know You Well goes big early. There are comparison points to Echo and the Bunnyman all the way across this record – “you’ve got a lot to give / I want to take it all” is a contender for my favourite track of the record here, about the comfort of knowing someone too well but also being a leech on them. “But it seems like each time, we’re just out of line,” Blood Wizard start with this ideal relationship but quickly pull back the layers of what’s really going on as it becomes a lot more sinister; eventually accepting that the relationship between the two characters is spiralling apart despite trying to “make it still”; despite it all – they know each other too well to let it fade just like that. It’s a tremendous track – the spat-out vocals a brilliant pop rhythm that has just the kind of right biting edge to it.

Lick the Big Star builds and builds in a way that’s fascinating to watch – and Scared of the Dark almost “calling in the dark / I can hardly help myself / maybe I try too hard to the lyrics of Lick the Big Star, using the title as a way of forging optimism through both Cai and Faye’s vocals in perfect synchronisation – “counting the days until I’m up there,” about chasing the optimism that’s never really there – the way this just builds and builds is a thing of real beauty. Scared of the Dark confronts the fear of the unknown expertly: “what if heaven is joke?” Blood Wizard wonder.  

This all adds up to a wonderfully brilliant release of an EP. Blood Wizard are a sonically gifted, free-flowing yet meticulous band that have possibly released their best work yet, building on what their past two albums have taught them to produce an album that feels like the result of the band’s collaboration at unmatched strength – each song just gets better and better across the EP; luring you in and keeping you there One time I might think I Know You Well is a favourite, the next Scared of the Dark, it’s impossible to really decide – and that’s a hallmark of a strong release.

Words by Miles Milton-Jefferies

Jessie Ware’s journey from a busy journalist to a sophisticated pop star hasn’t always been the most obvious career pivot. While she was busy penning articles for The Jewish Chronicle and the Daily Mirror, her colleagues remained blissfully unaware that she was quietly building a music career. The seeds were sown in the shadows; between 2009 and 2011, her impressive backing vocals for the likes of Sampha, SBTRKT, and Florence & the Machine earned her a record deal. It was a breakout debut built on restraint, but on her sixth studio album, Superbloom, Ware has perfected the art of not holding back. She describes this record as “earned, intentional and transformative”, and the music feels as expansive as that mission statement suggests.

If her debut, Devotion, was defined by a shy melancholy, Superbloom is the sound of an artist who has finished her apprenticeship in the dark and stepped into the midday sun. It is a testament to a hard-won confidence. During the What’s Your Pleasure? tour, Ware famously worked with a choreographer to master a custom microphone whip. It wasn't just a prop; it was a physical manifestation of her evolution from a stationary chanteuse to a confident and playful performer. This new record functions as a fantasy world of escapism, a trajectory she has been refining since her fourth album. Yet, Ware remains grounded. She acknowledges that while she doesn't fit the mold of the typical pop star, she has learned to balance a love for glamour and fun with a desire to dig deeper into her real relationships and appreciate the love she has.

Take the title track, Superbloom, a piece of spiraling piano funk that serves as the album’s thesis. With a winsome sentimentality, Ware whispers, “Touch me with sun-kissed memories, you are the one to send me into this ecstasy.” The delivery is both subtle and direct, eschewing the vocal gymnastics of her peers for a liberated, experimental edge. It is Ware at her most free. The indie-dance gem Mr Valentine pulses with nervous energy that wouldn’t sound out of place on an early Friendly Fires album, while the warped disco-synth loop that propels Ride captures the singer as a self-assured flirtatious cowgirl.

This evolution is most evident in what is missing: the enigmatic and mysterious sadness that clung to her first two records, Devotion and Tough Love. In its place there is a newfound capacity for joy. Even in her most vulnerable moments, she finds gratitude. On the track Summers, soundtracked simply by a piano, Ware reflects on her children growing older. It is an introspection that borders on the divine, a quiet, devastatingly beautiful moment that strips away the glitter and the sequined capes to reveal Ware as one of pop's most gifted classicists.

If Summers provides the emotional weight, the lead singles I Could Get Used To This and Automatic provide the propulsive, neon-soaked engine. Reunited with producer Barney Lister, Ware opts for a texture that is grittier and more tactile than the sleek surfaces of That! Feels Good! The foundation of I Could Get Used To This is built upon a bassline so thick and rubbery it feels like it’s being pulled through molasses, a clear nod to the sophisticated post-disco of Change or the more adventurous corners of Grace Jones’s Compass Point sessions. Her vocal delivery here has undergone a fascinating transformation; she no longer feels the need to outrun the beat. Instead, she sits inside it, phrasing playful and rhythmically astute with smart one liners like “Pablo silhouette, Venus energy”. 

Then there is Automatic, a track that feels like the spiritual successor to the throbbing pulse of Free Yourself, yet it trades bravado for a psychedelic, krautrock euphoria that eventually leads into an operatic crescendo. Produced in part by frequent Shygirl collaborator Karma Kid, the song borrows the cinematic sweep of Confessions on a Dance Floor-era Madonna but anchors it with Ware’s distinct British soulfulness. 

Ultimately, Superbloom reveals that Jessie Ware has mastered the art of the grown-up pop record without sacrificing an ounce of its hedonistic thrill. Where her contemporaries might use nostalgia as a crutch, Ware uses it as a springboard. She isn't just recreating the sounds of her peers; she is inhabiting them with the wisdom of someone with real experience. It is an album that doesn’t just show growth; it displays a total, triumphant flowering of an artist who has finally found her soil.

Words by Oliver Evans

Now, a quarter of the way through the year, with the new American Football album creeping up on us,  one feeling seems ever-present. It’s about to be a fantastic year to be sad!

With countless alt and emo bands announcing projects, one of the shining examples, carrying an aura of excellence at the moment, is scene godfathers American Football, who have released the second single from their highly anticipated 4th album, ‘LP4’. This angelic anthem is woven from dulcet tones and twinkly guitars that have long been a mainstay of the 3 previous albums, and these familiar sounds are now intertwined with a new sense of immediacy and theatre. Everything sounds bigger, fuller, and more pressing, leading to some of the best writing the band has produced so far, and who could forget to mention their shining mystery guest, Brendan Yates of Turnstile.

The track positions itself on the start line as most do, coated in a shimmer of excellence and gliding through the consistently encapsulating atmosphere that they manage to create around their music. From the blend of homely, twinkly guitars to the layered, intoxicating background sounds, this is a song best listened to with closed eyes, an open heart, and very loud headphones. As you begin to pick apart every layer of technical brilliance on display in this track, the melodies of Yates and Kinsella collide at full force, creating a true out-of-body experience for the listener. Yates’s background melody resides above the main vocal in tone but shares centre stage with Kinsella’s chorus as both vocal lines dance in the eternal light that presides within the unforgettable experience that comes with listening to an American Football record. Everything about both these singles, from the production quality to the technical proficiency, seems more stage play than song. It has emotional highs and lows in places where there are no words; the entire band’s feelings are conveyed through the stream of notes pouring out of the listener’s speakers. This drama and emotional weight are then continually amplified by the utterly brilliant vocal performances. ’No Feeling’ proves yet again that this genre will never go away and will remain in the heart beat of every flannel shirt-wearing fan worldwide, and will continue to inspire masses of people to keep creating. 

This album, like every other iconic project released by American Football, carries an immediately identifiable sense of mysticism. Music rarely makes people feel this way, so when a band comes along that can convey stories the way films do not, through words but raw notation, it’s important to hold on and not let go. American Football has and always will be a very special project to present and future listeners. There is something about it that just can’t be explained, only enjoyed and ‘LP4’ is going to be exactly that, so for God’s sake, will someone please just hire them to make a soundtrack already? ‘LP4’ is out everywhere from the first of May and is set to be accompanied by an unmissable world tour; the experience of seeing them live is transcendental and truly unmissable, so grab them while you can, just try not to become so at peace with yourself that you fall asleep mid-set. 

Words by Josh Pook

This week's Band of the Week is Leeds based Love Rarely - who continue their rise on the UK alternative scene with the release of their debut album 'Pain Travels' via Big Scary Monsters.

Love Rarely are a volatile hybrid of math rock, emo, and hardcore. Having already and rapidly carved out a reputation as one of the UK’s most emotionally fearless math-rock outfits, the five-piece have been redefining what vulnerability can sound like within heavy music. Weaving angular, technically demanding melodies with an unflinching lyrical openness that refuses to shy away from life’s darker corners. They balance intricate, off-kilter guitar work with cathartic explosiveness, creating sonic terrain that feels deeply human.

The debut album 'Pain Travels', captures the fullest picture of who Love Rarely have become. Shaped over the course of a year in spare bedrooms and improvised recording spaces, the record chronicles the band’s collective experience of family trauma, toxic households, and the complexity of navigating adulthood with scars that shape but no longer define them.

"'Pain Travels' takes you on a journey of attempting to cope with life when you might not have been dealt the best hand,” guitarist Dan Dewsnap explains. “It ended up being a deeper and darker record than we initially thought it would be, but that speaks to the authenticity on show. There’s a lot of positivity too. We’re basically saying things have been tough, but it’s going to be okay.”

Entirely self-produced by guitarist Lew Taylor, 'Pain Travels' is a testament to Love Rarely’s uncompromising DIY ethos: where band mates Courtney Levitt (vocals), Dan Dewsnap (guitar) Dan Gilson (bass) and Leo Godfrey (drums) would essentially write and record their parts separately then come together to painstakingly shape each track into its final form.

This album release easily cements them as one of the top bands to check out this summer - their vocalist Courtney took a moment to talk to us about how the album came together.

Hey there Love Rarely, how are you? So your album is out now – how does it feel to have it out there?
Hey!! We’re amazing, thank you. It’s very daunting but we’re so excited that people can hear what we’ve been working on and can’t wait to hear what they think and what they take from it.

It is called ‘Pain Travels’ – what is the meaning behind that?
It’s about the transition of generational trauma and how if it’s not dealt with correctly it just carries on through the entire family tree. Also a lot of themes of hope, overcoming mental health struggles & accepting who you are.

Where was it recorded? Any behind the scenes stories you are willing to share with us?
It was recorded in our spare rooms at home. Our guitarist Lew Taylor produced and mixed the record. There were many times that we had to stop recording sessions due to kids playing on the street outside and it was on the recording. Adds to the charm.

What are the key influences behind the album?
Childhood trauma and coming to terms with the people that we are and the way our brains work.

If the album could be a soundtrack to any film – which one and why?
28 days later, we feel like the vibe captures the vibe

Do you have a favourite lyric on the album? If so, which one and why?
There’s a line in the closing track through families - “So pull up the family tree, the roots are soaked in alcohol the branches weak, the leaves suffer”
This is my favourite lyric on the album because it kind of condenses the themes into one line. There is a lot of alcohol/substance /family related trauma within the band and it’s shaped us in many ways.

Now the album is out there – what next for you?
The plan is to just enjoy the release for a little while because we’ve been so busy and worked so hard for the past few years to get this arranged and in place. Soon as the dust has settled on that we’ll be working on future releases and hopefully touring as much as possible.

Alt-shoegaze style trailblazers Midrift announce a stellar debut record with equally impressive lead single ‘Over Anything’.

Midrift have been around the scene for a while now and have always been a truly sensational act to witness both on record and on stage. Their blend of violently beautiful tones and scathing lyrics creates a beautiful syncopation between each part of this wildly talented 3-piece, who now, having spent time touring and honing their craft, have finally settled into their style and found a true creative identity.

‘Over Anything’ starts guns blazing, swirling chord progressions place themselves in its eclectic noise to ride out the intro before breaking into a punchy and emphatic palm-muted chugs as the all-familiar vocal tracking starts and glues this song together. This choppy, almost stuttering guitar section allows the drums to breathe really well and builds a truly awe-inspiring atmosphere around this short but sweet 3-minute stunner. This truly is Midrift on top form, from this track’s concise and well-adjusted production to their ability to keep it raw in spite of this higher production value, everything works. Having caught Midrift live on tour in the UK with Basement, it was evident that this is a deeply talented group likely set to go the whole way, with the standout being their drummer, Kai Neukermans. Kai’s talent is just as present in this track as it is live, carrying a steady aggression and perfect mapping, his drumming dips between speeds effortlessly and adds a pressing emphasis to the already brilliant chord progressions, vocals and vocals. This song is tight and sets a shining example for the future album set to be released June 5th this year. 

Seeing young artists thrive is arguably my favourite part of music in the modern era. The widespread access to engineering software and instrument tutorials has brought us some of the greatest young minds across all genres, and Midrift truly possesses every element of that excellence. It’s tantalising being able to watch from the sidelines with purpose and intensity to see just how far the San Francisco 3-piece can take the lightning in a bottle they have in their hands. Their sound is one of raw power and emotion, and continues to be moving in the right direction. It goes without saying that if they're within even a 100-mile radius of you, it's of the utmost importance that you go and watch them play, and then watch every band after call Kai on to drum for them out of sheer respect for the craft. Talent is hard to come by nowadays, but Midrift undoubtedly possesses it in spades, so get on the bandwagon now before they blow up, so you seem cool to your friends in a couple of years. 

Words by Josh Pook

Holly Humberstone’s Cruel World is cemented in love, and all of the highs and lows that come with it. 

Since emerging onto the pop scene in 2020, Humberstone has been nothing but open and vulnerable in her music, from her earlier EPs to her debut album, Paint My Bedroom Black. Now, she’s back with her latest album, Cruel World, one that’s drenched in romance, friendship, nostalgia, and the highs and lows of growing up. And it’s potentially her best work yet. 

Cruel World, Humberstone’s second album, focuses heavily on themes of love, growing up and the turbulence that comes along with adulthood, all with a gothic twist. Each track feels familiar, carries the remnants of Humberstone’s previous works, while simultaneously sounding new, exciting, different. While she’s always been particularly gifted lyrically, it almost feels like Holly has come back swinging with Cruel World, the lyrics throughout the album truly packing a punch. With each project, every single release, Humberstone has continued to raise her own bar, and she continues to reach it and surpass it each time, too. 

So It Starts, a beautiful orchestral string piece, opens up the album; it’s sudden and breathtaking, and if Spring had a sound, it would be this piece. Imagine flowers blooming and a warming breeze. It builds to a joyous crescendo before flowing smoothly into Make It All Better. Make It All Better is a track that captures that falling in love feeling perfectly. It’s a dreamy electronic pop track, a catchy synth accompanied by the same strings from the opening track. “I think I need you like the air / I think I need you like a teenager needs weed” - Humberstone brings to life that feeling of an all-consuming love, romanticising the mundane parts of a relationship that feel special when you’re with the right person. “I wanna be old and gross with you / matching tracksuits on the sofa”. The added distorted vocals towards the end give it a unique twist. 

Make It All Better is followed by To Love Somebody, one of the three singles released before the album. Humberstone manages to make that dreaded feeling of heartbreak sound almost enjoyable. “To love somebody / to hurt somebody / to lose somebody / is to know you’re only human.” It sheds a light on the risk of falling in love, that more often than not it will come with some sort of heartache, but that’s the joys of being human, it’s a catch-22. Despite its somewhat heavy subject, the pop-heavy beat gives the track a light, infectious feel. 

Title track Cruel World has clear influences from artists like The 1975, Billie Eilish and Gracie Abrams. Humberstone says of the track, “it comes from the euphoria and pain of long-distance. Your perception of the world around you can be completely distorted without that one person in it.” Her delicate vocals flow effortlessly through the dance track, with small additions like the cowbell adding to it. It’s very Carly-Rae Jepsen-esque. 

While early songs depict a lot of the highs that come with falling in love, White Noise captures the rest. Think Robyn’s Dancing On My Own. It’s a “sorry I’m crying in the club” song. White Noise captures how one has to continue with their life after a break-up, heading to a club with your friends to escape your pain, surrounded by people but still feeling completely alone, “I gotta go through the stages of exorcising your ghost / sometimes the busiest places can make you feel so alone.” The perfect song with the perfect beat that will encourage you to dance that pain away, “play a sad song DJ / I just wanna sway tonight.” It’s laced with disco themes, a synth-heavy beat that will crawl under your skin quickly and have you itching to hit the dancefloor with your friends, heartbroken or not. 

Lucy is one of the more stripped-back songs on an album. Holly’s soothing vocals accompanied by the gentle plucks of a guitar as she sings about girlhood, about the ups and downs of entering adulthood, moving away from home and venturing into the big bad world, “to be young and lost in London can weigh heavy on your brain / but blue is just a colour anyway”. Lucy in particular shines a light on Humberstone’s writing talents. The overwhelming feeling of adulthood is one most people can relate to, but Humberstone reminds us that the support from friends is what always carries you through: “Anywhere you go there is a chorus of angels following close…behind every rain cloud there is a promise of flowers that will grow.” Lucy is nostalgia wrapped in a song. 

Red Chevy has an Americana pop twist to it, the immediate beat of the drum capturing your attention. It’s pure fun, a dancing in the rain or on a road trip, windows down, singing at the top of your lungs type of song, “so kiss me like you fucking mean it”. Undoubtedly, a song that will be incredible to witness live. It’s followed by another upbeat, almost jazzy tune, Drunk Dialling. The should I, shouldn’t I type of song. “And baby, I am drunk dialling you.” A song about having a crush and deciding whether or not you should make that risky move. 

Every good album has the slow, sad ballad, so of course, Cruel World has that. Peachy, a piano ballad about the insecurities and doubts that come with a relationship, particularly when you’re younger. Humberstone has a knack for capturing the most relatable of scenarios and feelings in a gorgeous, poetic way, and Peachy really showcases that ”god knows I’m twenty-four / i’m still a baby / don’t put your faith in me”. 

The album closes with Beauty Pageant. Humberstone says of the track, “This song is about grappling with the expectations that come with my job and more specifically being a woman. The pressure to be pretty and to perform is something that women of every age are dealing with - it is  seen as currency.” This track in particular allows Humberstone to really show off her vocal abilities. It starts off as a gentle ballad before building, the introduction of the strings, the steady drumbeat, and the strum of guitars. It’s the perfect closing track for the album, particularly as it continued to build and build with each song only to reach this stunning, crashing crescendo. 

Cruel World feels like Holly Humberstone’s best work yet; it’s got it all, infectious pop bangers and slow, sad ballads, all of it heightened by the addition of the synths and electronic twists. An album full of vulnerable, relatable emotions, rights of passage that most people have experienced, each song full of lyrics that make you nod and go “oh yeah, I’ve been there, I’ve felt that.” 

Cruel World is an album made for warm summers and falling in love. And Humberstone makes the potential heartbreak feel like a risk worth taking. 

Words by Angela English

Love Rarely fuses math rock and hardcore together in a brazenly fearless new debut that establishes them as an instant new favourite.

Already elevated to supporting The Callous Daoboys with Knives on the most recent leg of their tour and an early afternoon slot at 2,000 Trees in the summer, it won’t be long before Love Rarely find their way into the evening and to the headline – joining the new wave of pop punk bands like Greywind that are daring to experiment and try something new! Pain Travels is a picture-painter, a hit maker – it tells the story of who Love Rarely are, where they’ve come from, exploring past family trauma and unpacking it showing that they can continue through the darkness. But after all Pain Travels – and that’s where the title comes from; navigating adulthood with scars that shape you but no longer define you. It’s a weighty tome – and Dan Dewsnap; guitarist, comforts the audience with a statement piece: “we’re basically saying – things have been tough, but they’re going to be okay.”

It’s a DIY record, entirely self-produced by guitarist Lev Taylor – and sums up their grit and determination as a band that have already won a tastemaking headline slot at the Grace in London on May 6. Courtney Levitt’s vocals are fierce and uncompromising – generational pain is the theme of the early tracks here Through Families, Haunted and Severed, with Severed being deployed early in the album: “I go home and that’s where you wait for me,” Levitt cries; saying that home is not the place of safety, of safe comfort that it should be for those and the struggles that are faced outside of the room continue inside: “I will remember your face forever,” the scars are very much real and they linger. It’s a brutal track – the vocals are pulsating and the guitars kick in with tinges of math rock that threaten to drift into King Gizzard or Angine de Poitrine territory at times, yet this is firmly rooted in emo origins with its lyrics that run through the album. The searing incident of “I will remember your face forever” that is repeated through Severed is a war cry: about the emotions you go through when you have to cut out a hostile family member and an alcoholic. It’s entirely personal, and the relief of letting them go is born with a dash of guilt: you know, you’re telling yourself that you could help them change, but it’s the acceptance of learning that not everyone can and the positives of who they are beneath it all keep drawing you back. 

I’ll Try continues that path towards self-acceptance “I’ll try / I got this / you’ll see” Levitt calls, a simple, yet incredibly harrowing war cry: “I WILL PROVE YOU WRONG,” and it’s very much about finding self-worth in the aftermath of the events of Severed and healing and overcoming that. It’s a deeply impactful record that echoes Canadian hardcore outfit Piss and their tackling of similar subjects with heavy weight – echoed again in Haunted, it’s all about the weight of inherited trauma that pulls up the family tree with “roots… soaked in alcohol.” “I can’t change you; but I tried” sums up the thematic relevance of this record – searingly powerful! It will draw the right audience to tears, filled with dark, atmospheric textures and thought-provoking lyrics that encourage you to introspectively look at yourself and who you are as a person as much as you are aware of who you keep in your circle and around you. There’s a lot of source material here – razor-sharp instrumental, a focus point in its post-punk revival influences.

This is a band with accomplished grit and practice – they’ve already got a show at Arctangent 2025 under their belt; same as Callous Daoboys, and it’s instantly easy to see how the two would’ve ended up paired with Knives for this most recent tour. Immediately the singles Disappear, Severed, Mould and Will let you know what you’re in for: how to let go and experience primal emotion that rivals at times, La Dispute or Touche Amore as much as Piss. The hardcore hooks give a storytelling motif to it that can have you recalling No One Was Driving the Car; La Dispute’s critically acclaimed record of 2025 – that was best listened to in one sitting and so too was this! With Disappear it’s all about Levitt letting her emotions lose – there are touches of a rawer, angrier RØRY at times here (especially on I’ll Try) – tackling such vital themes of self-preservation and self-worth in the need of overwhelming personal matters: “You said I should disappear,” the anger at being made to feel like shit, and being made to feel like shit by someone you care about, is of so vital to have a healthy outlet and through Love Rarely it feels like that outlet is through song and through the mosh pits and carnage that will follow: this is a band on the brink of something much bigger than where they are now. 

Blame is haunted, Mould envelops, and as a result the album feels like a kind of “comfort blanket” as much for Love Rarely as the audience themselves, a record of catharsis and understanding that wears its heart on its sleeve. Few albums from debut acts feel this well realised and well formed in tackling a clear and personal vision like this: being left to your own devices as a child, being hyper independent as a child, the alcohol abuse wearing thin – it’s all laid bare here, no amount of emotion is safe; but that’s part of the process – it’s a delight to unpack a record that’s best listened to in full, and can be challenging but rewarding in the best possible way. If Angine de Poitrine had a hardcore screamo frontperson; Love Rarely would be that band.

Words by Miles Milton-Jefferies

Basement are back to hotwire your brain yet again with another deeply natural and familiar track from their upcoming album ‘WIRED’ out May 8th.

Fresh off the back of a brilliant double header of singles last month, Basement have dropped another world-beater to build buzz around their upcoming album ‘WIRED’. If there is one thing that new single ’The Way I Feel’ does, it’s create buzz; its atmosphere builds almost immediately through the blunt-force chords and vocal effects, driving a more spacious, linear sound. This song truly has all the makings of a track that is set to be screamed at the top of everyone’s lungs worldwide across their future shows. This song feels innately designed to be sung in unison while still working as its own internal and personal experience. This blend of community and individuality has been an ever-present staple of Basement’s albums since the band’s inception, and it’s beautiful to see that not only the sound but the feeling and visceral, almost involuntary, reaction to their music has not strayed from the path in the slightest and that fans still bounce in elation on the floors of sweaty venues to these brilliant tracks. They remain creatively empowered while still making tracks that are welcomed with open arms and strained vocal cords.

Lead singer of Basement, Andrew Fisher, has stated that “The Way I Feel’ is about standing on the edge of a really important decision, right before you make it. Constantly questioning whether you have the courage to stand up for yourself and fight your side, while at the same time begging for forgiveness and acknowledgement. My tongue is in my cheek quite a lot in this song - you need to decide when I’m saying what I mean or not.” This message of internal questioning has cropped up in many basement songs before and is something that every listener, no matter the age, no matter the life experience, can relate to, this is one of the elements that makes basements music so powerful, this sense of natural emotion and human experience is laid out over every project, with that in mind it's no wonder that these albums have connected so deeply with all of their listeners.

At the heart of this track is the sound of the familiar, whether it’s beers in a field with your friends in the middle of summer or the first time you accidentally got lost in time with the love of your life, this songs takes you back to a treasured moment in time with its sense of familiarity and comforting tones that wouldn’t feel out of place being blasted in the background of any of your top 5 coming age movies. Basement are one of those once-in-a-lifetime bands; this feeling is only emphasised the more you listen and the more you pick apart. There is a different meaning here for every listener; that’s what makes the fact that we’re getting a whole 12 tracks in May all the more exciting. Keep your eyes peeled for ‘WIRED’ releasing via Run for Cover on the 8th of May, and get lost in the sound of a band that will stick with you for life.

Words by Josh Pook

Wax Head lead an Osees-infused revolution that makes remarkable usage of a drummer-fronted psych-punk quartet. 

Wax Head are one of the liveliest, noise bands now in a genre that’s full of lively, noise-bands. They follow psych-heroes like Osees and there’s even touches of King Gizzard and the Lizard Wizard and Psychedelic Porn Crumpets here, that feels like garage rock and designed to test the endurance with several sharp, punchy tracks. Titular track GNAT is brash and abrasive, lively and full of what you kind of have come to expect from a Wax Head gig – “seize up, feel the sweat // drip down the back of your neck”, it’s all “part of the critter control” they claim – all part of the Wax Head experience. If you leave a Wax Head show and aren’t covered in sweat from the mosh pits that will surely come what would you be doing? 

Their creative process is akin to bursts of inspiration and maximising unfinished ideas into raw tracks that explore whatever’s going through songwriter Lewis Fletcher’s head. That leads to – in short, a lot of songs about bugs and death that’s reflected in the second track, Bug Doctor – a song that embraces the infection of bugs and is catchy, very House Arrest in tone. The ability to shift from GNAT to Bug Doctor is smooth, raw and full of lively overture that bubbles under the surface. It’s lyrics that find inspiration from Fletcher’s time growing up in rural Somerset – and that is reflected on third track, Terminal Sinker, and it’s easy to see why that was chosen as a lead single for the band. It shifts gears full on into addressing the current state of UK punk – “your ambitions have just shrivelled up and died” captures those who are stuck in the past in the genre and refuse to move on, of which there are plenty in rural Somerset who spend all their time complaining with absolutely no effort to change the situation that they’re in at all. It’s not subtle “I’m a terminal sinker / inexplainable inexplainable” Fletcher cries, but it doesn’t need to be – it gets the point across in a way that acts as a wake up call. 

If you weren’t awake after the first three tracks you will be now. Clatter Coats embraces the chaos full on, its lyrics feeling almost sinister; talking about how religious zealotry drives people to unthinkable acts of violence from the outside of society looking in “your holiness has driven you to the edge now/taking younglings and burning them in their beds now” taps into the praying on the weak and the sinister side of life and the outcasts of society being driven underground. Like the nature of the cult-like tunnel-dwelling creatures that inspire its lyrics it is unrelenting, and to see Wax Head live is to live in that unrelenting experience right the way down to the very core. 

We’re well into the back half of the record by the time Rusty Cutter and Resin 214 roll around. They’re both bangers – and the most imaginative title on the record is Drawöh vs Lineus Longissimus as they once again return to the tunnel-like creatures of Clatter Coats – “I feel pity as you are foolish enough to think I fear you” is an arrogant cry of resistance, “your life underground is nothing compared to here” that continues the narrative of this fight between these two characters where victor realizes he has won; but is far too late, and he is standing on a town of ruins that he has failed to protect. This thematically akin to a story throwing in motion – the noise rock version of say, Carpenter Brut’s The Temple released earlier this year – and it’s incredibly compelling as each song peels away a different layer. 

If you like loud music where the frontman is your drummer you’ve come to the right place, there are few more incendiary bands than Wax Head right now, their live shows quickly becoming the stuff of legend in the DIY scene. It’s good to know the intensity of their pits can translate across to that of their record – and you just know that the next Wax Head show I’ll be at, that must be purchased as a physical copy. I’ve never heard a bad word against Wax Head and it’s easy to see why based off the strength of this and how quickly they can win a doubter over.

Words by Miles Milton Jefferies

Three years after her last full-length release, Arlo Parks returns with Ambiguous Desire, a record that further cements her place as one of the UK’s most emotionally transparent voices. Across the first half of the decade she has already delivered two defining projects: the Mercury Prize-winning debut Collapsed in Sunbeams and 2023’s introspective My Soft Machine. Both albums established Parks as a songwriter capable of turning quiet internal monologues into universal moments of recognition.

In an ostensibly superficial world, Parks’ honesty still cuts through. Her songs rarely hide behind metaphor or spectacle. Instead, they linger in the raw details of love, regret and self-reflection. Ambiguous Desire follows that same instinct. Across singles such as Get Go, Heaven and 2sided, Parks once again peels back her layers, offering listeners another intimate glimpse into her mind. Vulnerability has always been her greatest strength, and here it remains the album’s emotional centre.

Opening track Blue Disco eases listeners into the record with a sense of weightless calm. A soft electric guitar drifts above a gentle drum pattern while Parks’ comforting vocals set the tone. Lyrically, the themes feel familiar: heartbreak, disappointment and the lingering echoes of something lost. The repeated refrain “I always knew” carries a quiet resignation, establishing the album’s central tension between acceptance and longing.

Jetta shifts the energy immediately. Chopped vocal fragments and a smoother groove give the track a stronger pulse, building toward a chorus that bursts into life. Parks sounds full of character here, her voice carrying both warmth and urgency. By the closing moments the track evolves into something closer to a house rhythm, an unexpected turn that showcases her willingness to experiment within her signature introspective style.

The momentum continues with the single Get Go. A crackling radio sample and crashing drums launch the song forward, while hypnotic keys pull the listener into a trance-like state. Despite the euphoric instrumental, Parks’ lyrics wrestle with the painful decision to let someone go. That contrast is where the track truly shines. Her writing remains razor sharp, capturing the push and pull of emotional attachment, while the instrumental steadily builds toward a thrilling climax and a sense of release.

Senses featuring Sampha blends seamlessly into the album’s flow. Persistent percussion drives the track as both artists explore feelings of vulnerability and self-doubt. Sampha’s soft, aching delivery adds another emotional layer to the song. When Parks confesses, “I can’t find no love for myself,” the moment lands with quiet devastation. Sampha’s closing verse deepens the atmosphere, creating one of the album’s most compelling and long overdue collaborations.

On Heaven, Parks returns to a more intimate space. A soft drum pattern supports her confessional writing, while the refrain “What is in the summer breeze?” floats through the hazy production. The song feels suspended in a warm but fragile atmosphere before dissolving into a gentle instrumental outro.

That intimacy carries into Beams, perhaps one of the album’s most emotionally exposed moments. Bright keys lift the chorus toward something aspirational, yet Parks’ lyrics remain grounded in uncertainty and quiet despair. The line “I know it’s the right thing to do but I don’t wanna” stands out as one of the album’s most striking and relatable confessions. A brief musical detour midway through the track adds texture without breaking its emotional spell.

The brief South Seconds may be short, but it leaves a lasting impression. Parks reflects on the fragile nature of love, acknowledging the delicate balance between winning and losing someone. A simple voice note saying “I miss when we did stuff together” captures the aching nostalgia that runs through the album.

Nightswimming reintroduces the rhythmic pulse that has quietly threaded its way through the project. The track carries a late-night atmosphere, lingering in the aftermath of emotional upheaval. When the chorus arrives, shimmering synths punctuate the line “It’s a moment in time,” bringing a sudden brightness to the melancholy mood. The closing section feels like the blurred calm after a long night out, drifting gently into silence.

2sided leans further into groove. Also released as a single, the filtered drums and glistening keys give the track a subtle 80s shimmer, reminiscent of the glossy nocturnal soundscapes heard on Dawn FMby The Weeknd. Parks glides across the instrumental effortlessly, maintaining the album’s delicate balance between vulnerability and atmosphere.

On Luck of Life, she delivers another quietly crushing line: “Everything reminds me that you’ve left.” The chorus soars while the instrumentation remains carefully layered and nuanced. Throughout the record, the recurring theme of loss never feels repetitive. Instead, Parks approaches it from multiple emotional angles, with each track revealing another shade of reflection.

The penultimate track What If I Say It? slows everything down again. Parks’ voice sounds as delicate as ever as she admits, “Tired of being angry, tired of being brave.” Moments like this underline what makes her songwriting so compelling. Her lyrics feel intensely personal while remaining deeply relatable.

Closing track Florence ties the album together with quiet emotional clarity. Parks has spent the record confronting fear, doubt and insecurity, yet that honesty ultimately transforms into strength. As the drums swell toward the end, they feel almost ceremonial, a rhythmic celebration of everything the album has explored.

With Ambiguous Desire, Arlo Parks once again proves that vulnerability can be powerful. It is a record filled with emotional detail, gentle experimentation and songwriting that cuts straight to the core. Another remarkable addition to her discography, it confirms Parks as one of the most thoughtful and profound voices of her generation.

Words by Alex Peters

Metalcore’s newest slasher villains have unveiled their most ethereal and gut-wrenching track to date, and while the band may be faceless, the music is uniquely identifiable and truly brilliant. 

PRESIDENT hit the scene last year with a variety of elusive teasers and singles that culminated in multiple shows across the world. These shows spread like wildfire with word of mouth, creating a genuine buzz around the band, and it’s great to see that this buzz has not died. The faceless four-piece has created a brilliant intersection of styles with every track. ‘Mercy’ takes this blend of styles, collates it with all the power of its unnamed vocalists’ gorgeous and prudent vocal sections and allows the track to transcend genre ties, refusing to be put in a box and instead choosing to exist as it is with no remorse. The electronic elements of this track work perfectly with the dropped and discordant guitar pieces of the choruses, allowing the whole track to blend together perfectly through its exceptional production quality. 

PRESIDENT is tantalising in every way; the quality of the tracks carries a familiar sincerity to them that brilliantly contrasts with the mystique of their anonymity. This mystery spills into the music while still managing to remain identifiable and excellent. Metalcore has been in a great place talent-wise for a while now, but outside of bands like Bring Me The Horizon, there hasn’t been a quietly whispered level of excitement like this for some time. This plays into their hands perfectly, as the secrecy that surrounds every release and every live show makes the audience feel like they’re in on something that they shouldn’t know. That feeling transfers itself perfectly into ‘Mercy’ with its dulcet electronic sounds emitting nostalgic horror elements before doing what this band does best, colliding in a chaotic medley of tonal perfection and aggressive catchy chord progressions, brutally dynamic and inexplicably spectacular, this track stands to become one of PRESIDENT’s best.

PRESIDENT kick off their UK tour this spring, playing a laundry list of venues around the country in what is bound to be a stretch of shows that will be etched in the minds of their audience eternally. While still shrouded in mystery, the band has built a reputable and strong fanbase that not only supports each release but sell out their shows. The anticipation is clear as every single one of these shows has completely sold out, so if you were one of the lucky few to get one, let the inauguration begin, and if you weren’t, keep a close eye on these future superstars. 

Words by Josh Pook

Nearly twenty years on, Scouting For Girls prove their feel-good formula still works.

Scouting For Girls return with their first album in three years, following their 2023 record The Place We Used To Meet. Roy Stride, Greg Churchouse and Peter Ellard have been steadily releasing music since their iconic 2007 debut, and the band’s ability to capture nostalgia in a bottle has not faded. Across nearly two decades they have built a reputation for warm, relatable songwriting and instantly recognisable hooks. These Are The Good Days continues that tradition.

The album title itself carries a quiet melancholy. It is a simple sentiment, yet one that feels deeply relatable. At some point we all look around and realise that the moments we are living through now may one day be the ones we miss the most. Over the course of ten tracks the band lean into that feeling, delivering classic Scouting For Girls singalongs, reflective ballads and the type of songs that made people fall in love with the band in the first place.

The title track These Are The Good Days opens the album on a contemplative note. A melancholic introduction sets the tone before Roy Stride’s familiar vocal cuts through the mix. The lyrics feel reflective, almost like a personal trip down memory lane, highlighted by the line “spend my life tryna make it big, just to prove I was worth something.” The bridge features some strong guitar work, and the layered vocals on the outro bring the song to an emphatic close. It feels like the kind of track that could soundtrack a jamboree, a reunion or any moment where nostalgia hangs in the air.

Get What You Give launches the album forward with a burst of energy. The chorus takes centre stage and demands attention, built around the refrain that “you only get what you are given.” It is an uplifting song about living life to the fullest, even if the message carries a hint of realism. The track has a feel-good spirit that fits comfortably within the band’s catalogue.

Waiting For Your Love introduces a completely different flavour. The song carries a Western-style groove, almost like it could soundtrack a chaotic saloon fight scene. Scouting For Girls have always been at their best when they lean into a particular style or concept, and this track is a great example of that strength. The energetic guitar solo emphasises the wild nature of the song and adds another layer of character.

The album takes a more emotional turn with Stars Never Fade. This ballad is dreamy, comforting and deeply affirming. Gentle instrumentation allows the lyrics to shine, and the refrain “people come and go, some people stay the same” lands with a subtle emotional weight. The songwriting here feels particularly strong, while the guitar riff that closes the chorus adds a beautiful finishing touch.

The upbeat nostalgia returns on Don’t Go Solo. There is a lighter, more humorous tone running through the track, with self-aware lyrics that lean into the band’s charm. The back and forth towards the end of the song gives it a playful energy, although the final verse introduces a surprising vulnerability that almost feels out of place on such an upbeat track. That contrast ultimately makes the moment stand out even more.

As Bad As You Are continues the singalong feel with a reassuring message at its core. Amid the chaos of the world, Roy promises to stick around no matter what. It taps into a feeling most people recognise, that quiet desire for security and loyalty. The closing line “it will never get better than this” gives the song a slightly sombre ending that grounds its optimism in reality.

Love Gone Bad begins beautifully, with Roy’s distinctive voice floating over soft and simple guitar work. The track gradually builds before bursting into life with a wave of colour and energy, reminiscent of the glossy optimism of a 2000s Sony TV advert. It is arguably the best produced song on the album, polished and bright while still retaining the band’s signature warmth. The chorus, which pleads “when you gonna love me back,” captures the universal ache of unrequited love.

Counting Down The Days delivers one of the most nostalgic moments on the album. A steady drum groove, a memorable chorus and lyrics centred around love combine into a track that feels unmistakably Scouting For Girls. It has everything that has made the band so beloved over the years. The playful countdown into the chorus adds an extra spark of energy that makes the moment particularly satisfying.

The album slows down for the penultimate track Still Feel The Love. It is an emphatic moment that allows the instrumentation to breathe and take centre stage. Once again the guitar work stands out, weaving around Roy’s passionate vocals and creating a strong emotional pull as the album moves toward its conclusion.

Closing track Alright In The End brings back that vintage Scouting For Girls feeling one final time. The song carries a reassuring message, with the title ringing throughout the chorus like a mantra. “If it is not alright, then it is not the end.” It is a sentiment that feels fitting for a band whose music has stayed with fans for so many years, and it provides a warm and satisfying way to close the album.

After a brief hiatus, Scouting For Girls return sounding as comfortable and heartfelt as ever. These Are The Good Days is packed with nostalgic charm, strong melodies and moments that remind listeners why the band has endured for so long. Their music still exists in its own warm, familiar bubble, and stepping back into that space feels so good.

Words by Alex Peters

The Maine embrace chaos and unpredictability on their new single “Palms”.

As they approach the release of their tenth studio album "Joy Next Door", The Maine release an energetic new single "Palms”, which is the third single off the album. Following the two previous singles “Die To Fall” and “Quiet Part Loud,” “Palms” pushes further into the band’s evolving sound with its modern production and its upbeat melody. The song challenges the idea that everything happens for a reason and leans into the unpredictability of life, with frontman John O'Callaghan delivering the catchy chorus line “Don’t think, it all happens for a reason, fuck that”. It is a track that talks about letting go even when that feels uncomfortable.

Taking its title from the phrase “reading palms” which also appears in the song’s lyrics, the track taps into the human instinct of searching for signs and looking for certainty even when none exists. However, instead of indulging this impulse, the narrator repeatedly shrugs it off with the line “Don’t think, let it happen”. There is a chaotic and carefree energy throughout the track with mentions of “getting drunk” and “spending it all” which is not necessarily framed as healthy, but feels raw and honest. The lyrics don’t try to guide the listener but rather capture a state of mind that is bound to resonate with people across all age groups.

Sonically, the track echoes elements of previous releases such as “Pretender” and “Sticky” which are some of my personal favourite tracks by the band. However, it leans more into an alternative pop-driven sound than rock, which might disappoint fans of heavier tracks such as “Black Butterflies and Deja Vu” (another personal favourite). There is a sense of motion throughout the track, as if the song itself is refusing to sit still. This sentiment is consistent with the creative process behind the track, with O’Callaghan revealing that the initial demo came together in only 30 minutes.

In terms of vocal performance, there is an almost conversational tone in parts of the song, and the repetition of the line “Don’t think, let it happen” gives the impression of a real-time internal monologue, like a thought being looped in someone’s mind until it finally sticks.

With “Joy Next Door” arriving on April 10th and a major headline tour underway, The Maine are stepping into what could be the peak of their career so far. As a longtime fan of The Maine with “Lovely Little Lonely” and “American Candy” still in constant rotation, I’m excited to see what else the band has in store with their upcoming album.

Words by Irina Atanasiu

Returning for their first full-length album in 5 years, Tigers Jaw, a band that needs absolutely zero introduction, bare all in their brilliantly prudent new album ‘Lost On You’. 

Scranton, Pennsylvania's Tigers Jaw are a band that has evolved from stepping stone to stepping stone; every project, be it a single, EP, or LP, has had a consistent sense of belonging to where the band were at the time. The self-titled album was so effective and cutting to fans because at the time, very few had taken such an archaic and sporadic sound and managed to mould in to a meaningful and emotionally pressing emo album. as their career progressed albums like ’Two Worlds’ and ’Charmer’ kept the lightning in a bottle that they captured during the explosion of the self-titled album and continued to create a more refined yet still raw and open sound, blending more studio time and expertise with a more mature and individual tone behind the vocals to create a new sound, and with their all new love letter ‘Lost On You’, this cycle of progression has continued, leading to one of their most brilliant albums to date, blending the acoustic chaos an d dual vocals of the first album with the brilliance and craftsmanship of their later projects. This album is refreshing and familiar, but most of all, it’s Tigers Jaw at their best. 

The front half of the album contains elegant brilliance, contained in tracks like ‘It’s Ok’, ‘Anxious Blade’ and one of the feature singles, ‘Primary Colours’, the latter of which is arguably the greatest vocal performance from the band to date. the duality of notation between vocalists Ben Walsh and Brianna Collins creates this brilliantly intertwined sound scape, with the vocal points acting as the highest and lowest areas of the tracks, the instrumental takes place within the walls of these vocal pieces to create a well packaged and dynamic track that will likely be added to the band’s setlist as well as the fans’ playlists. This elegance also gives way to harsher, more abrasive tracks at times, with power chords and drum fills aplenty. Songs like ‘Head Is Like A Sinking Stone’ and ‘BREEZER’ bring back more of the bite and tenacity of the previous albums, but with a sharper and more defined edge. While the charm and beauty of the early albums lay in their mess and abundance of heart and emotion, this album finds its identity in the medley of brutal lyricism and sharper production. These 2 singles are an excellent example of that. Both of these aforementioned tracks really give the band space to breathe and show off, with every member getting shining moments in the final product. ‘Head is Like a Sinking Stone’ is another example of this, with Ben Walsh leading on vocals, delivering a tough and brooding performance through his lyricism, simultaneously playing this off against the album’s catchiest chord progressions and lead lines, managing to create sound that feels complete and linear with similar tones in the vocal parts as there are in the rhythm and guitar parts, making a well baked and easy listening heavy hitter. This is a contrast to the track ’BREEZER, as it creates the inverse effect, with Brianna’s vocals on this track taking a much higher and gentler range than the scathing riff played alongside it. This ability to play with its dynamics is the best part of this project, as it creates a beautiful ebb and flow of both pacing and feel. This track is also an absolute masterclass from behind the kit of Teddy Roberts. The drumming on this album is absolutely exceptional and while he does a stellar job on tracks like ‘Ghost’ and ’Staring At Empty Faces’, he truly shines in ‘BREEZER’, carrying the pace and dictation of the track on his back with his violent half-time verse sections that act as both the heartbeat of the track and a source of sheer adrenaline whenever he sneaks a fill underneath the gliding tone of the guitar and vocals. 

The second part of the album contains fewer singles but an absolutely brilliant collection of deep cuts. Tigers Jaw always sound best when their albums are listened to cover to cover. Everything is intentional, well-placed and beautifully written, and this often shines through best in the band’s deep cuts, as while the singles are picked for a reason, every track contains an equivalent level of excellence; tracks like ‘Ghost’ keep a high pace that works in perfect contrast with their despondent lyrics of loss and longing for bad times to pass and something new to begin. This more upbeat pacing is quite common on the second half of the album and makes the slower tracks all the more brutal. Tracks like ‘Roses and Thorns’ take the overall cheery sound of the second half of the album and dips back into immersive and ethereal ballads, truly carrying the listener off somewhere else with its heavy pedal usage and gorgeous vocal phrasings. As this track closes out, we are gifted the title track, signing off an absolutely exceptional album in the most authentic and immersive way they could, piercing and upbeat chords, coupled with an all-timer hardcore-inspired drum performance, carrying the song through its entirety with absolutely no let-up, a deep and rich bass line that allows the chords and vocals to really cut through. This track feels like an amalgamation of every era; the emotional weight of the early albums and the brevity of their new projects meet head-on in a beautiful collision to see this 11-track trip off into the sunset.

While Tigers Jaw have always been a force of nature this album blossoms into something more than that, their wisdom and tenure in the genre has collectively gathered a true wealth of skill that is demonstrated through every second of every track of ‘Lost on You’, if you skip it, your skipping the greatest heartbreak this genre has had to offer for a while so give it a listen, try and keep it together, and enjoy every moment. 

Words by Josh Pook

The Boxer Rebellion’s ‘The Second I’m Asleep’ — a reflective return from indie’s quietest survivors.

For well over two decades, The Boxer Rebellion have been one of the UK’s most quietly poignant indie bands — the kind of group whose longevity can almost go unnoticed, especially after a five-year stretch without live shows or new material. Since returning, however, the band have thrown themselves back into touring, gracing a sold out hometown show at KOKO in Camden last year and preparing for another imminent London date at Electric Brixton, just ahead of the release of their latest record, ‘The Second I’m Asleep’.

While 2013’s ‘Promises’ may be the album that hooked most fans — alongside the neon-washed, dream-pop, indie-shimmer of 2016’s ‘Ocean by Ocean’, of course — every The Boxer Rebellion release has cultivated its own devoted following, each with its own highlights, atmosphere, and emotional weight. ‘The Second I’m Asleep’, the band’s first album since 2018’s ‘Ghost Alive’, is no different.

It’s a beautiful record, full of ostensibly warm, uplifting tones, yet carried throughout by a sense of longing that runs through vocalist Nathan Nicholson’s heartfelt, almost crooning delivery. Taken as individual moments, the songs often shine; taken as one complete piece, though, the album can feel slightly disjointed — like a therapist’s notes shuffled out of order, each page meaningful on its own but not always forming a clear narrative when read straight through. 

Opener ‘Flowers In The Water’ throws you straight into the band’s latest chapter, the anthemic first single from the album wasting no time in announcing the group’s return. Warm guitars and urgent rhythms push the track forward, even as the surrounding soundscape wraps everything in the band’s familiar glow. When Nicholson sings “I gave too much thought to perfect”, it feels both like a reflection on overthinking life and a quiet apology for the band’s absence — although the band sure seem to be making up for that now! 

That same warmth continues into ‘The Last Of A Dying Breed’, where gentle, tranquil instrumentation sits beneath Nicholson’s emotive vocals. Even as the guitars begin to swell in intensity, there’s something oddly calming about the track — perhaps why it’s already become a regular fixture in the band’s live set, the only non-single from the album to do so as of yet.

Even ‘Hidden Meanings’, built on falsetto, reverb, and the twinkling guitars that slowly expand as the track unfolds, has some of that same warmth. One moment it feels like a moment of emotional breakthrough, the band breaking free from some cocoon that was trapping them, and the next it’s closer to embodying a samara, a twirling Sycamore seed drifting in the wind. It feels untethered in ways that few The Boxer Rebellion songs do — a list which ironically quickly grows to include the quietly hopeful ‘This House’, a track shaped by  its steady drums and stable foundation. Lines like “Regrets […] they are useless” land with the feeling of someone trying to rebuild after things have fallen apart — cautious, a little bit broken, but steadfastly determined. 

‘Storm Chaser’, meanwhile, introduces more of a restless edge, its looping guitar chords giving the sense of a track constantly chasing its own hook, an instrumental ouroboros, never quite settling. That unsettled state pervades ‘Satellite Above’, too, where slightly discordant guitar lines and bass grooves mirror Nicholson’s uneasy musings on modern life’s constant demand for attention, hinting at emotional fatigue in a world of instant access and endless noise.

The following pairing of ‘Don’t Leave Yet’ and ‘Perception’, meanwhile feel like a call-and-response caught in the wrappings of the album; the former plays like a hopeful plea, encapsulated in echoing guitars and hazy production, while the latter feels like the answer to it — more definite, more grounded. The warmth that runs through the album remains, but as the duo progresses it feels stronger, triumphant even, especially as the latter’s chorus steadies the former’s earlier uncertainty. And, as the instrumentals bloom outward, there’s hope once more.

Also, what sounds like a woodblock. If a woodblock features on an album, it must be remarked upon. Sorry, don’t make the rules. 

As the album ticks over to ‘Second Guess’, though, the mood turns inward again. Falsetto drifts over a bass-heavy foundation, creating a hazy, almost mirage-like atmosphere filled with self-doubt. There’s even a faint trip-hop pulse at times, giving parts of the track a subtle, Massive Attack-like dissonance that adds to its unease. 

And, finally, the closer, the ostensible album clincher, of ‘Your Side Of Town’. Honestly? It feels exactly how a ‘The Boxer Rebellion album closer’ should. It’s simultaneously hopeful and heartbreaking, harmonious and devastating. Nicholson sounds weary, almost aged by the journey of the record itself, his voice carrying a quiet resignation in the verses — even as held keys sound like evangelical choirs harmonising, even as soft drums and echoing piano keep the song gently moving forward, there’s something despondent there… but also, something strangely trusting. Like, no matter how resigned you feel, it’ll work out. 

It’s that self-same dichotomy that threads its way through the album. As a whole, ‘The Second I’m Asleep’ feels less about big statements and more about fragments of emotion — longing, doubt, hope, regret — presented in different shades across its runtime. It may not flow as seamlessly as some of the band’s earlier work, but its individual moments are often strikingly beautiful, and when it lands, it lands with the same sincerity that has kept The Boxer Rebellion quietly enduring for more than twenty years. 

It’s a fittingly solemn and shining return.

Words by James O’Sullivan

Five years after the striking and heartbreaking Valentine, Lindsey Jordan returns with her third studio album, Ricochet, a record that feels less like a diary entry and more like a transition into adulthood. Now 26 and resettled in Greensboro, North Carolina, Jordan has traded the immediacy and chaos of her youth for a settled, low-key life. You can feel this in the record, which is defined by a newfound vocal clarity, the result of a 2021 surgery for vocal polyps, and a deep-seated obsession with mortality inspired by Charlie Kaufman’s Synecdoche, New York. On Ricochet, Snail Mail isn't just singing about heartbreak; she goes deep into existentialism, helping her realize and accept “that the world still turns no matter what is going on in your tiny life.”

Co-produced by Jordan and Momma’s Aron Kobayashi-Ritch, the record is a lush love letter to the turn of the millennium. The power-pop opening "Tractor Beam" and the grungy "Dead End" evoke the golden era of Liz Phair, The Sundays, and even the radio-friendly hooks of Avril Lavigne. The inspirations are clear, even when looking at the album cover, a clear tribute to The Sundays’ Reading, Writing and Arithmetic. Nevertheless, none of this takes away from her originality; instead, it adds to her own unique vision. Ricochet is not mere nostalgia, but rather an outlet that serves as a homage to her roots.

Jordan employs brass choirs, grand string arrangements, and piano throughout the record, resulting in an expansive but diverse listening experience. This is evident in tracks like "Cruise," but it is also contrasted by the standout “Light On Our Feet,” a heartwarming, stripped-back love song which feels like a breeze inside an album filled with moments of isolation and an internal tug-of-war between the need to belong and the desire to disappear.

Lyrically, the album moves away from the edge and heartbreak of her earlier work. Jordan, who grew up Catholic, uses religious imagery as a playground for her anxieties. On "My Maker," she imagines flying a plane to heaven only to "tarry at the airport bar”. The fear of death is the record's deeper theme. On the track "Hell," which channels The Cranberries, she plainly admits she is "scared to die," while the title track, "Ricochet," finds a strange peace in nihilism: "If nothing matters / we can do whatever we want." This isn't a depressive record, but rather a searching one. As she notes in a recent interview with The Fader, she is no longer "bathing in her own agony," but rather studying it from a distance.

One of the most haunting tracks is "Butterfly," a song that masterfully shifts from fast-paced guitar melodies to a sudden descent in which she sings about transformation, the struggles of being a new artist in the industry, and substance abuse, a recurrent theme in the record: “You want a trip? / You want a quick vacation? / I saw you sneaking undercover / Taking something then another / Just to feel alive / And you are.” She has successfully navigated the transition from indie-rock prodigy to a mature songwriter capable of handling heavy themes without losing the spark that made her a staple of the genre.

In the closing track, “Reverie,” she sings: “Older, now I’ve realized / All my heroes are nothing more than socialites / Fuck them too / But you’re a lighthouse / In my cold, stormy life / And I could do it all the time.” These lyrics resonate with the current climate and suggest that life is still worth living, no matter what is happening around you. You matter and your actions matter, but the anxiety and disproportionate emotions are simply not worth it in the grand scale of things.

Ricochet is not as bold and "in your face" as its predecessor, but it’s still a triumph of restraint and growth for Jordan. It follows a similar path to Japanese Breakfast’s For Melancholy Brunettes (& Sad Women) and Lucy Dacus’ Forever is a Feeling, subtle and low-profile records acknowledging the simpler life and its temporary state. Snail Mail has lost the angst of her teens, but in its place, she has found a voice that is stronger, more mature, and ready to face the unknown.

Words by Marcos Sanoja