Inspired by real interactions in his neighbourhood, “Boxcar Baby” emerged from Simpson’s reflections on the bottle collectors and unhoused individuals he encountered regularly. “Songwriting is a cathartic experience for me, and events and situations that are happening in my daily life often come out when I’m writing,” he explains. “This song portrays a vagrant type character living in desperation.”

The title itself carries symbolic weight. Drawn from a spontaneous lyrical phrase that surfaced during one of Simpson’s meditative songwriting sessions, “Boxcar Baby” references a Great Depression-era term for train hoppers searching for a better life. “Often lines in songs just come out of me, making up sounds and words in a meditative-like state when playing my guitar,” Simpson says. “When I look back on what I was doing, I can get pieces of the puzzle that I’m putting together.”

At the emotional centre of the song is a real-life story that deeply affected him. A bottle collector who kept his shopping cart behind Simpson’s house shared how he would climb Hamilton’s escarpment in freezing temperatures to retrieve carts and gather enough bottles to afford a room and a few beers. “His routine would continue even in mid January, with sub-zero temperatures,” Simpson recalls. Wanting to help, he began collecting bottles from friends and neighbours to help fill the man’s cart himself.

Musically, “Boxcar Baby” leans into an organic and understated production style that allows the songwriting to remain front and centre. Produced alongside Aaron Goldstein, the recordings were captured live off the floor with the band performing together in the room. “The idea is always to get out of the way of the song and just give it as much as it needs,” Simpson explains. “The song can stand alone with me and an acoustic guitar. The production should support that and not try to change or get in the way of that.”

Longtime collaborator and partner Justine Fischer also played an important role in shaping the material. “Together, we are able to bounce ideas off each other and refine a piece of music or edit the lyrics,” Simpson shares. “We will perform songs to an audience to see what works and what doesn’t, and usually you can tell pretty quickly that way.”

“Boxcar Baby” appears on Simpson’s forthcoming album Sky Breaks at Dawn, a body of work that explores uncertainty, healing, love, time, and perseverance. Across the record, Simpson reflects on the tension between decay and renewal; the way time can both heal and wear us down. “We learn to live with that balance,” he says. “Finding moments of peace in a world of perpetual chaos. Hope and acceptance, appreciating the moment while prioritizing love.”

At its core, “Long Way Through Doom” is both primal and poetic: a collision of chaos and melody where instinct takes over and meaning emerges in fragments rather than structure.

Written initially without any intention of vocals, the track began as a self-imposed creative experiment. “I purposely assigned myself to write a ‘nuclear rock song’,” Keegan explains. “Once I gave myself that M.O, the main riff just came out of my hands.”

With the instrumental complete, Keegan turned to older written material for lyrical inspiration. “I scoured through some old poetry and found a piece called ‘World Debut’,” he says. “It just fits. I started melodizing the words and it all clicked into place.”

The result feels like a moment of fate rather than construction. It’s a song that arrived fully formed through creative alignment rather than careful planning.

“Long Way Through Doom” sits within Keegan’s broader creative universe but marks a continuation of his refusal to remain stylistically fixed. It follows a career defined by constant reinvention, from lo-fi experimental beginnings to expansive rock explorations, now converging into a sound that feels both unhinged and precise.

1.What did you enjoy most about the creation of this new release?

In between takes we ordered a pizza from Dominos. It was delicious and the price was good. We had a discount code.

2. Share a nugget of advice that has resonated with you most over the years.

If the sun and moon would doubt/they’d immediately go out.

3. Who would be your dream artist/band to co-headline a tour with?

Robert Frost speaking his poems while Pantera play Concrete Metal Sludge over and over again.

4. What sets your music apart from others in your genre?

I can’t tell you that. 

5. Tell us what your favourite song is at the moment and why.

Undone by Failure because the end of that song is what heaven sounds like.

At its core, “DON’T DO THAT” reflects the emotional weight both artists experienced following the release of their debut album, 2024’s Just Try. “The song was inspired by the state of mind we both felt like we were in last year after releasing our first album,” they explain. “We struggled getting our creative flow back again. Although the song is upbeat, it may be one of the most personal songs to show how heavy music has felt for us over the last little while.”

Despite its introspective subject matter, the single pulses with momentum and optimism. Built around driving rhythms and an anthemic energy, “DON’T DO THAT” becomes less about defeat and more about resilience. It’s the soundtrack to pushing yourself through difficult moments instead of retreating into familiar patterns.

“DON’T DO THAT” also serves as the opening track to the duo’s upcoming sophomore album, Learn + Apply, helping establish both the emotional core and sonic direction of the project. “We like to start bigger projects with lyrics that feel the most connected to us presently,” they explain. “This song does exactly that.”

While the themes lean inward, the spirit of the song remains rooted in the optimism that has always defined YASSiN & Sean Terrio’s work. Hope, love, and perseverance continue to act as guiding principles throughout their music, giving even their heaviest moments a sense of uplift and forward motion.

Featuring vocals from Rufus Johnson, Florida native Pastor Charles A.R. confronts the pain of abandonment, emotional wounds, and the unseen weight of suffering that often goes unspoken on his latest single “It’ll Be Ok.”

The deeply transparent track, speaks directly to the silent battles many carry but rarely express. Through raw and reflective lyrics, it acknowledges the hurt, the loneliness, and the frustration of taking the long road when you prayed for a shortcut.

With a compassionate yet firm tone, the message shifts from pain to promise. “It’ll Be Ok” reminds listeners that even in seasons of rejection and unanswered questions, remain steady. It challenges the culture of seeking validation and healing through social media.

In a culture where pain is often monetized and masked, this song brings a perspective that validates suffering while pointing to true restoration, accountability, and spiritual grounding.

Press play on “It’ll Be Ok”, produced by Marv4MoBeats, via Holy Culture Records after the jump!

With Black Music Month in full swing, Holy Culture Records’ delivers the lead single from their upcoming compilation project This Is Worship. Appropriately titled “Change Gonna Come,” a nod to Sam Cook’s classic Civil Rights cut, the record brings together Joshua Penn and Omega Sparx with assistance from Mayia Warren.

Produced by Marv4MoBeats, the song is rooted in honest reflection and unwavering faith. In a world filled with uncertainty, emotional strain, and constant pressure, “Change Gonna Come” stands as a bold reminder that God is still present and still moving.

Built on a foundation of community and collaboration, the track reflects the label’s vision of bringing Hip-Hop back to its roots; connection, authenticity, and shared experience. Speaking directly to those navigating hardship, it’s anthemic and uplifting tone blends transparent storytelling with a forward-looking perspective; offering both comfort and motivation.

Culturally it meets listeners at the intersection of faith and real-life struggle. In a hyper-individualized society where worry, doubt, and anxiety are often amplified, this record provides a counter-narrative; one rooted in surrender, trust, and community.

Give “Change Gonna Come” a spin below on your DSP of choice!

The song’s origin traces back to a period of heavy literary influence. “At the risk of sounding absurdly pretentious, I was reading a lot of Charles Bukowski at the time,” explains songwriter Matt Brannon. “So it created a sort of temporary supercharged nihilism.” That perspective shaped the song’s core idea; a meditation on time, purpose, and the subtle weight of existence.

Built around a rich, retro-psychedelic sound palette, “Time Killing” unfolds with layered instrumentation and tonal contrast. Trippy string arrangements intertwine with shimmering lap steel, creating a unique sonic blend that sets the track apart within the band’s catalogue. The result is a sound that feels both expansive and grounded; classic in influence yet exploratory in execution.

The recording process brought together a striking group of collaborators. Loel Campbell (Wintersleep, Billy Talent) contributed drums, while Christine Bougie (Bahamas) added lap steel and Drew Jurecka (Dua Lipa) arranged the song’s sweeping strings. The track was mixed by Chris Shaw and co-produced alongside JUNO Award–winning producer Michael Phillip Wojewoda, further elevating its textured, cinematic feel.

One of the defining moments in the song came through experimentation with its vocal delivery. Originally intended for songwriter Travis Flint, the final vocal emerged from a demo sketch that ultimately became the take heard on the recording. “We spent a lot of time trying to figure out the delivery on the top line,” Matt notes, highlighting the band’s openness to instinct and evolution in the studio.

Lyrically, “Time Killing” captures a universal sense of stagnation and quiet longing. Its lines reflect the monotony of daily life, while hinting at a deeper awareness of time slipping by; a tension that gives the song its emotional weight.

Rooted in joyful reflection and forward momentum, Pushing Forty captures a pivotal chapter in Ellie’s life; standing at the edge of change while embracing both the excitement and uncertainty that come with it. Blending pop, synth, indie, and rock textures, the record radiates with an effervescent energy that celebrates growth, transformation, and the beauty of stepping into something new.

“Pushing Forty began as a way to document a specific season of life,” Ellie explains. “I was entering the final year of my thirties, moving in with my partner, settling into a home and just about to welcome a dog into our lives. It felt like I was closing certain doors while opening others and I wanted to capture that emotional crossroads; the excitement and the nerves!”

At the heart of the record’s uplifting spirit is “That Sunshine’s Mine,” a playful yet powerful anthem about protecting your joy. What began as a lighthearted challenge in the studio quickly evolved into something more personal and resonant.

“We joked that writing a sunshine song was basically a guaranteed hit,” she says. “From there, it evolved into something more personal about protecting your joy and not letting others dim your light.”

Driven by punchy, high-energy production and a sense of uninhibited fun, “That Sunshine’s Mine” leans into a bright, confident pop-rock sound. Its fast-paced momentum and communal gang vocals create a feeling of spontaneity and release, tapping into a kind of childlike freedom. “It makes me feel like a kid in the best possible way,” Ellie notes. “It feels fun, empowered, mischievous and free!”

The song’s playful spirit extends into its creation. Originally opening with a rooster crow as a theatrical wake-up call, the track underwent a last-minute shift when Ellie agreed to strip it back and let the energy of the song speak for itself. The result is immediate, vibrant, and undeniably infectious.

Across Pushing Forty, that same balance of intention and freedom defines the sound. Created alongside collaborators Hawksley Workman and Tristan Konkle in Peterborough, ON, the album embraces both precision and play, allowing moments of joy, humour, and connection to sit alongside introspection and growth.

Written from a mix of dreams, jokes, and everyday absurdities, The Mosfets EP rejects overthinking in favour of instinct. “Most of it just came from my love of songwriting and collaborating with my friends,” says frontman Keith Mosfet. “We did it for ourselves, it was fun. I’d do this 100 times.”

That spirit carries through every track. Equal parts electric and defiant, the EP leans into rough edges and embraces the band’s natural chemistry rather than sanding it down. “It taught me not to worry so much about polish,” Keith explains. “Rough and raw is good. Our flaws are also our greatest strengths.”

At the centre of the release is “Keith Is A Blues Artist,” a hypnotic, blues-driven garage rock track that began quite literally in a dream. “I was at a party in my dream and put on a random vinyl,” Keith recalls. “This song is what played.” Waking up, he quickly recorded the demo, capturing the melody almost exactly as it had appeared.

The track channels the spirit of early ‘60s blues and garage rock while twisting it into something distinctly their own. Rather than drawing from modern revival acts, The Mosfets looked further back, pulling inspiration from artists like The Sonics, John Lee Hooker, and Them. “We’re not trying to sound like The Black Keys or The White Stripes,” Keith says. “We’re trying to sound like what they were listening to.”

There’s a tongue-in-cheek element at play, too. The title itself came from a band joke, with members Maarten and Ilari agreeing to record the song on one condition: that it be called “Keith Is A Blues Artist.” The result is both a loving nod to classic blues tropes and a playful jab at the band’s frontman.

Recorded on a Tascam 388 reel-to-reel, both the EP and its lead single fully embrace a mid-fi, analog warmth that prioritizes feel over perfection. Much of the project came together in the aftermath of a show in Hamburg, Germany, during a hungover but highly productive session at Yeah Yeah Yeah Studios. “We were very hungover, yet played magnificently,” Keith laughs.