ADÉLA, Anaïs Cardot, Angine de Poitrine, Armlock, BIRTHE, Borderline, Cameron Winter, Chase Icon, Clover County, Debbii Dawson, Dogpark, Double Virgo, Dove Ellis, Eli, Elias Hix, End It, Faith Richards, Future Crib, Goldie Boutilier, John Muirhead, Jorge Wilson, Julia Wolf, Julius Rodriguez, Kevin McCune, Le Vent du Nord, Mad Tsai, Mouseatouille, Nami, Nxdia, Paige Kennedy, Passing Thoughts, Penelope Road, Petey USA, Reem Mitten, Rich Allo, Rochelle Jordan, shishi, smokedope2016, sombr, Syd Taylor, The Favors, The Heartstrings Project, The Two Lips, thredd, Twen, VEXED, Xenia

From all of us here at Atwood Magazine, we wish you a happy and healthy new year!

If there’s one thing that never gets old, it’s the feeling of discovering your new favorite artist – the moment a song stops you mid-scroll, or a voice hits just right and suddenly you’re rearranging your listening life. That sense of possibility is a huge part of why we love music, and it’s been at the heart of Atwood Magazine since day one.

In 2025, that feeling showed up again and again. Across genres, countries, and corners of the internet and real life, we kept finding artists who felt exciting, honest, and impossible to ignore – the kind that sneak up on you and stick around.

From Dove Ellis and Debbii Dawson to The Favors, Julia Wolf, Mad Tsai, Dogpark, Petey USA, Penelope Road, and so many more, these are our favorites – the artists who pulled us in deeper; the ones who turned casual curiosity into obsession, whose songs soundtracked late nights, long drives, headphones-on walks, and those moments when you realize you’ve fallen in love with someone’s work. Some were brand new to the world; others had been building something special just out of frame until this was the year it clicked.

That feeling – the spark, the “oh wow” moment – is why discovery will always be core to our mission. We believe finding new music shouldn’t feel like homework or hype-chasing; it should feel human, personal, and a little bit magical. Whether it happens in a tiny room, through a pair of headphones, or by pure accident, discovering a song or an artist can still change the way you hear the world. That’s what keeps us listening, writing, and coming back for more.

As the year comes to a close, our staff took a step back to honor the songs, albums, concerts, and artist discoveries that had the greatest impact on our lives. Without further ado, Atwood Magazine is proud to present our curated list of 2025’s Artist Discoveries of the Year, in alphabetical order by artist. Please join us in celebrating 2025’s contributions to the music world!

Mitch Mosk, Editor-in-Chief

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Atwood’s 2025 Music of the Year 

Our Top Artist Discoveries of 2025

Click on the artist’s name to skip right to their entry!

ADÉLA, Anaïs Cardot, Angine de Poitrine, Armlock, BIRTHE, Borderline, Cameron Winter, Chase Icon, Clover County, Debbii Dawson, Dogpark, Double Virgo, Dove Ellis, Eli, Elias Hix, End It, Faith Richards, Future Crib, Goldie Boutilier, John Muirhead, Jorge Wilson, Julia Wolf, Julius Rodriguez, Kevin McCune, Le Vent du Nord, Mad Tsai, Mouseatouille, Nami, Nxdia, Paige Kennedy, Passing Thoughts, Penelope Road, Petey USA, Reem Mitten, Rich Allo, Rochelle Jordan, shishi, smokedope2016, sombr, Syd Taylor, The Favors, The Heartstrings Project, The Two Lips, thredd, Twen, VEXED, Xenia

ADÉLA’s first EP, The Provocateur, is a raw, abrasive, and inflammatory declaration of subverting expectations and embracing one’s own sexuality. This is quite a shift from the girl we met last year in Pop Star Academy, but the shoe fits. As far as I’m concerned, ADÉLA came out of the womb with pink hair and bleached eyebrows. She’s got the look, the singing, and the dancing down pat, but most importantly, she’s hungry. “SexOnTheBeat” is a step in the right direction. The track is electro-pop perfection, calling on Cobrah’s punk and Kim Petras’s impudence. ADÉLA sets out on tour with Demi Lovato in the coming year, which is sure to catapult this star far beyond the stratosphere.

I was first introduced to Anäis Cardot through Wizkid’s ‘Slow’; set against a languid, sensual beat, Anäis’ captivating voice defines the song in an incomparably sweet chorus, contrasting Wizkid’s textured sound with a delicate softness. This same softness marks her feature on Juls’ ‘Dança No Sol’: a contemporary Afrobeats single with heavy Brazilian influence. Infused with sounds that evoke imagery of a day spent seaside, the French-Gabonese singer’s influence on the track — my second introduction to Cardot — feels just as much of an indulgence as a day spent sun-drunk in Rio.

Fortunately for listeners, that high is never one that expires in exploring Cardot’s own discography. The singer/songwriter’s 2024 debut album, Pink Magnolia, is a sonic feast. In a layered blend of soul, reggae, indie, and R&B (as well as French, English, and Spanish), Cardot delivers a masterclass in forging a singular, intoxicating sonic identity as she weaves multi-layered themes, genres, and beats into ear-candy that is just as velvety and alluring as her own voice.

I bumped into these guys with funky costumes and absolutely insane skills on the electric bass at the Fête de la Musique in Quebec City this past June. I couldn’t see the stage so well – these guys should know how to draw a crowd! – but I loved what I heard and was delighted to learn that they would be performing another notable Fête in Quebec (la Fête Internationale de Jazz de Montreal) in just a week’s time. After another few days of road trippin’ through Quebec – one of the greatest highlights of 2025 for me, looking back now – I settled in Montreal for the fest and, sure enough, was able to catch these guys turn in another sizzling set right in the heart of the action at Place des Arts. Merci à vous deux for delivering me one memorable set apiece in your native province this past summer!

There’s a quiet pull to Armlock’s music that’s hard to explain until you’re inside it – aching and understated, minimal yet expansive, and strangely all-consuming in the way it settles into your body and stays there. The Australian indie rock duo (Simon Lam and Hamish Mitchell) came into my life through their latest single “Strobe,” and six months later, that song still has a hold on me. Built from soft, flickering guitars, hushed vocals, and a steady, unshowy groove, “Strobe” moves patiently, letting its warmth and intimacy do the work. It feels unvarnished and human – like a late-night drive, a long phone call, or the quiet comfort of someone you trust on the other end of the line. The song never reaches for a big moment, and that restraint is exactly what makes it hit so tenderly and so meaningfully.

Spending more time with Armlock’s catalog has only deepened that feeling. Their 2021 debut Trust and 2024’s Seashell Angel Lucky Charm both lean into the same strengths – minimal arrangements, emotional clarity, and a commitment to mood over momentum. The songs reward repeat listens, revealing small shifts in texture and feeling without ever demanding attention. Still, it’s “Strobe” that hits me hardest – a true minimalist masterpiece that aches in all the right places. Its warmth, its pacing, the way it envelops without pushing – it feels honest. Armlock make music that feels real, raw, and grounding. It’s music you return to not just because it sounds good, but because it feels like something you want to keep close.

BIRTHE has been one of my favourite up-and-coming rising stars in a long time, an artist who skillfully blends soul, pop, funk, and jazz with a level of musicality that already marks her as something special. With a classical background and a passion for storytelling, she brings strings, wind instruments, and rich arrangements into her sound, writing deeply personal songs about growth, self-discovery, and the world around her. Her music channels the warmth and authenticity of the ’50s, ’60s, and ’70s with live instrumentation and minimal electronic interference, creating a timeless yet fresh aesthetic that feels entirely her own. So far, her discography reflects a creative spirit unbound by genre, an artist moving effortlessly between styles with confidence and purpose. Having represented BIRTHE as her music publicist early in her career, it’s been a delight watching more listeners begin to discover the talent I saw from the start.

There’s something deeply comforting about the way Borderline write big feelings without overcomplicating them. The New Zealand band’s music lives in that sweet spot between emotional weight and melodic ease – polished but heartfelt, dramatic without going over the top, cinematic without ever losing its pulse. At their best, they make songs that feel like a cathartic, full-body release, balancing ache and warmth in a way that invites you in and welcomes you to stay awhile.

I fell hard for Borderline this past spring when their single “When It’s Raining” became a near-daily listen. Built around echoing piano chords, swelling guitars, and frontman Ben Glanfield’s impassioned vocal delivery, the song captures the feeling of being completely stuck in your anger and sadness – that moment when everything feels heavy and impossible to see through. It’s stormy and emotionally charged, but there’s a glow to it too, the kind that makes it feel spiritually cleansing rather than crushing. That track became my entry point, and when it landed as the conclusion to their debut EP Chrysalis in July, it only deepened the obsession. Across its 16-minute runtime, the band deliver a tight, charming collection of emotionally rich indie pop, but “When It’s Raining” still hits the hardest – a perfect distillation of what Borderline do so well: Turning vulnerability into something communal, comforting, and powerful.

Cameron Winter’s froggy baritone popped up everywhere this year: Kimmel, a bridge, Nigel Godrich’s de-fossilized basement, Apple and (allegedly) Xbox commercials, Nick Cave’s blog, hunched over a piano in Carnegie Hall. On paper, his curriculum vitae is absolutely Quixotic for a 23-year-old. He is probably our generation’s emerging Great Artist.

On tour for his album Heavy Metal, he’s been playing churches with nothing but the full armor of God and a Steinway, which is a setup that I think is decidedly not a gimmick. Winter’s songs demonstrate sincere respect for the singer/songwriter tradition, and don’t hold any trace of false aesthetic machinations. This combination is rather rare nowadays, but Winter delivers it to us with unlikely and boyish ministering hands. His writing is unruly and feels transgressive in how naked it is – life is a boot to the teeth and a gold coin in the sand. He sublimates the divinity, stupidity, humanity of being a person into song. It’s a return to a state of nature for music.

The rise in popularity of hyperpop shows no signs of slowing down with artists like Chase Icon entering the scene. Her debut album Icon Baby is jam packed with jaw-dropping lyrics, an unapologetic attitude, and a delightful embrace of all things messy and queer-coded. With lyrics like “turn a transphobe to a chaser” and others that you should allow yourself the pleasure of being shocked by, Chase Icon made a statement that declares her positioning as an erotic and powerful force in the hyperpop scene. I’m sure many others like myself were delighted to discover her making a mark within the genre this year, showcasing that there’s no shortage of variations availble to explore within this style of music.

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There’s a kind of magic that only Debbii Dawson can conjure – one that glitters under disco lights, shimmers with heartache, and rises in triumph when a song could’ve collapsed into sadness, but chooses to dance instead. She has this rare combination of fresh and timeless – a voice that can feel soft and unassuming one second, then turn around and hit with full-bodied emotional grandeur the next. I keep coming back to her because even when I can’t articulate every lyric on first listen, I always know how she’s making me feel – and she’s chasing that same feeling, that same magic, in everything she does.

Dawson has been  active for a while (she appeared on America’s Got Talent in 2022 and released her debut EP, Learning, in 2023), but 2025 is when it fully locked in for me. This past February’s “You Killed the Music” still feels like the clearest distillation of why she matters: Cinematic synths, punchy drums, dramatic bass lines, and an energizing chorus where she closes the door and changes all the chords – turning a real, heavy hurt into a glittery, cathartic middle finger you can move to. Then she kept going. “Chemical Reaction” doubles down on that disco-pop liberation; “Gut Feelings” feels like the next step – a mantra about self-trust and not second-guessing what you already know; and “I Want You” shows off her ability to make desire feel both playful and a little bit dangerous. Taken together, these singles don’t just showcase her range – they reveal a pop songwriter who understands resilience, reinvention, and radical self-expression as the point, not the accessory.

There’s a bold theatricality to Debbii Dawson’s style that feels both fresh and timeless. She’s ABBA reincarnate, a disco-pop dancing queen making feel-good, empowering, larger-than-life pop songs that are simultaneously classic and contemporary.  She’s building a world where the glitter isn’t decoration – it’s survival – and right now, I don’t know a more exciting “weird girl who makes weird music for weird people” (her words, not mine!) to follow.

Dogpark prove that their name is more than just a destination, it’s wrapped in indie-rock sunshine. Their new releases are putting them on people’s radar, and the public can’t get enough. The band’s latest EP, Until The Tunnel Vision Melts features six songs that showcase the band’s signature sound. “Dreamwalker” talks about the fantasy of love, thinking about an imagery scenario. It’s hard to escape your imagination, but it’s even harder to get Dogpark’s catchy tunes out of your head.

Double Virgo hit me like so many bricks this year. I was pulled in by the astrology-related name, and found that I actually very much enjoyed their music. The British duo sound unpolished and jagged in a way that doesn’t feel contrived, embodying a post-punk ethos. “Kissed Then Burned” is my favorite song of theirs; it’s slow, heavy and churning with a bass line that sounds downright naughty, like I’ve been caught listening to something I shouldn’t be. The vocals are haunting in both low register and falsetto, and make the track a dynamic-sounding modern lament, a romantic dirge to a haunting relationship on its last standing leg. Beyond this track, Double Virgo’s discography is full of gems that scratch the itch for moody, emo alt-rock.

Irish singer/songwriter Dove Ellis arrived at the end of this year, already fully formed – emotionally fearless, vocally arresting, and unapologetically singular in his songwriting and his sound. His music carries real weight, moving easily between intimacy and drama, tenderness and force, often within the same song. His voice is the kind that turns a buzzing room silent – that turns every head: Soulful and raw, elastic, expressive, and striking in a way that instantly commands attention. Ellis doesn’t just sing the feeling – he becomes it, stretching and breaking in real time as the emotion demands.

I first fell into his world through September’s ‘debut’ single “To the Sandals,” a dramatic, spellbinding four-minute reverie. But it was his follow-up, “Love Is,” that stopped me cold with how openly it wrestles with love’s limits – not romanticizing it as a cure-all, but still honoring its power, beauty, and danger. That tension runs throughout his debut album Blizzard, which followed shortly after and confirmed this wasn’t a fluke. The record – a last-minute shoe-in for ‘album of the year’ – is intimate yet expansive, full of bold, breathtaking songs that feel lived-in and unguarded, letting instinct and feeling lead the way rather than tidy structure. Whether he’s whispering over piano or letting guitars flare and unravel around him, Ellis writes and performs like someone with nothing to hide.

What makes Blizzard so compelling is how fully it commits to that emotional honesty. The songs don’t rush toward resolution – they sit in the mess, the longing, the confusion, and trust the listener to follow. It’s rare to hear a debut that feels this confident in its vulnerability, this willing to risk excess in pursuit of truth. Dove Ellis didn’t just light up the final stretch of the year – he announced himself as an inimitable, extraordinary new voice, one whose combination of songwriting, presence, and sheer vocal force makes him impossible to ignore going forward.

I heard the first forty-six seconds of “Girl of Your Dreams” in May. The snippet on TikTok made me suddenly forget every pop song I had ever heard. Eli riffs and rides through identity and desire effortlessly, delivering a track so assured and dynamic that it rewrites what pop music, both past and present, can feel like. As iAmNotKateBush says on Reddit of Eli’s music, “it makes me feel sexy and gorgeous and emotional.” Her debut album, Stage Girl, is not so much a wink as it is a slap in the face. In exchange for your undivided devotion through an impending nervous breakdown or inevitable unsavory remark, she offers some of the best melodies I have ever heard, making for music that is smart, audacious, and as original as it is nostalgic. No one is safe from this year’s pop star renaissance, and Eli has more than earned her seat at the table.

South Carolina’s Elias Hix has one of those voices that immediately stops you in your tracks – weathered, aching, and heavy with feeling in a way that feels far beyond his years. There’s an earnest, earned quality to his delivery, a kind of emotional grain that makes every line land harder, as if it’s been carried through seasons of loss, growth, and reckoning. His songwriting meets that weight head-on: Poetic without being precious, intimate without ever feeling small. And what makes it all the more staggering is how much of it is his own doing – writing, producing, playing, shaping the sound from the inside out.

I discovered Hix the best way possible – in the wild – when he opened for Houndmouth at Woodstock’s Bearsville Theater this past June. From the first few songs, it was obvious this wasn’t just a strong opener; it was someone announcing themselves. “I Could Make You a God,” released in July, in particular floored me, its slow-burning tension and emotional gravity unfolding like a quiet reckoning in real time. And his rendition of Lorde’s “Ribs” – a full-on reinvention from the original’s hushed indie pop into a stomp ‘n’ holler folk rock fervor – will forever live with me. Watching a college-aged artist command a room with that much restraint, confidence, and vulnerability felt genuinely special – a moment you clock instantly as the beginning of something beautiful.

Spending time with his EP Your Name Stuck to My Teeth, released in May, only deepened that feeling. The record showcases the full scope of Hix’s talent – softly stirring (alt)-folk and Americana-adjacent confessionals, lyrical imagery that cuts deep, and performances that feel both fragile and fearless. Reminiscent of Gregory Alan Isakov and, to a lesser extent, Leif Vollebekk and Lord Huron, Hix sounds like someone chasing something real, not trends or volume, and trusting his instincts every step of the way. Of all the artists I discovered this year, he’s one I know I’ll be checking back in on regularly – someone you want to grow alongside, watching each new song reveal a little more of what he’s capable of.

The Baltimore-based hard core band is, in a sense, a gateway into a deeper dive into the current landscape of punk, and punk-adjacent artists. Founded in 2017, and following the release of two EPs in 2020 and 2022, End It issued their blistering, confrontational debut, Wrong Side of Heaven, this autumn. Aggressive, energetic, and at times a little theatrical in execution, there is a surprising urgency and poignancy to the lyricism – often shouted breathlessly by the group’s charasmstic frontman Akil Godsey, who, when not bellowing with an unrelenting fury, has one hell of a singing voice when he wishes to use it. The group, and the album, are not for the faint of heart. Cramming 15 songs in to 23 minutes, Wrong Side of Heaven, grabs you by the throat, and is unwlling to loosen its grip until the final note is played. End It – what a name, also – as a group, is incredibly admirable, in how they balance the spirit of punk, or hard core music, with a flair for drama, and a subtle sense of humor rippling throughout.

Faith Richards has been steadily emerging as a standout voice in modern R&B, blending moody pop, alternative textures and deeply personal storytelling into a sound that feels both intimate and cinematic. Having grown up across Kansas, Nottingham and Los Angeles before settling in Dallas, her music carries a real sense of emotional range and perspective. Oozing with subtle confidence, her lyrics are reflective, sensual and unafraid to sit with complicated feelings.

Her latest single, “Private Star,” sees Faith stepping into a more empowered, self-assured space. Written across two very different chapters of her life, the song captures that shift in confidence and clarity. “I was definitely in two completely different places in my life,” she reflects. Sonically, the track is sleek, controlled and magnetic, inspired by the idea of owning your presence and power without hesitation. It’s a bold, assured release that hints at the creative freedom shaping her next era.

I‘ve been playing a whole ton of shows this year with my group, and I have the utter pleasure of being able to say that Future Crib reached out for us to open for them at a show. And when I first heard the record they were promoting, I was hooked. Future Crib is a band whose songs are worlds packed into 2-4 min vignettes of folk rock, and their latest record Impossible Songs takes that ideal and puts it through a kaleidoscope bursting with melody. They have a rare sense of craft to their songs that one cannot help but admire. There is a real sense that the quartet of Johnny Hopson, Julia Anderson, Bryce DuBray, and George Rezek seek nothing but the inherent truth found in music, and their pursuit of that has given us some delightful tunes, everything from “One Horse” to “Valley Song” to “Neighbors.” Their bio describes them as a “non-fiction” rock band, and having heard their music and having seen them present their lofty ideas live, I cannot think of a more apt description.

Goldie Boutilier’s debut album Goldie Boutilier Presents… Goldie Montana feels like watching an artist fully step into herself in real time – not a reinvention for reinvention’s sake, but the hard-won arrival of an artistry that’s been circling its true form for years. It’s smoky, cinematic, and all-consuming, a spectacularly enchanting and engaging record steeped in glamour and grit where survival, desire, and self-possession coexist without apology. This doesn’t feel like an introduction so much as an apotheosis – the moment where everything finally locks into place.

That spark feels particularly potent on title track “Goldie Montana,” which immediately reads like a manifesto. Boutilier’s voice is sultry and commanding, moving through reverb-soaked guitars and noir-pop atmospheres with total conviction. The song blurs fantasy and autobiography in a way that feels dramatic, fearless, and intentional – a character built from scars, strength, and bad decisions, but never hiding behind them. That sense of authorship runs through the entire album, from the swaggering freedom of opener “King of Possibilities” to the tender ache of “Neon Nuptials” and the paralysis of heartbreak captured on “I Can’t.”

What makes Goldie Montana so compelling is how fully realized it feels. After years of making music under other names and sounds, this era carries a rare clarity for Canadian singer/songwriter Kristin Kathleen Boutilier, who has also performed as Kay, My Name Is Kay, and Goldilox over the years. I have a sneaking suspicion that Goldie Boutilier will be the artist identity that finally ‘sticks’ – not just because it’s her rawest, realest persona yet, but because it has the most room for experimentation and discovery. Since Boutilier first debuted the moniker in 2022, she has established Goldie – or should we say, herself – as an artist who knows exactly who she is. She isn’t afraid to let that be messy, glamorous, wounded, and powerful all at once. Goldie Montana announces not just a moment, but a turning point. Goldie Boutilier didn’t just release an album this year – she arrived, and it’s impossible not to feel the gravity of it.

Folk artist John Muirhead is arguably one of the hardest-working musicians around, guided by a genuine love for connecting with people through music. That connection is most evident in his Sunday-night TikTok livestreams, which feel like a group of friends catching up while listening to some great music.

This past year also underscored his strength as a songwriter. His 2025 EP, The Nomad, helped put him on the map, especially with Canadian radio, and supported a sold-out headlining tour across the country. Along the way, Muirhead surprised listeners with reimagined versions of familiar tracks, highlighting his versatility and his commitment to continuing to grow as an artist.

Jorge Wilson is a British indie pop artist from Stoke-on-Trent who brings a refreshing sense of honesty to everything he releases. After stepping away from a band setup that didn’t allow him full creative freedom, he launched his solo project in late 2023 and hasn’t looked back. Writing, producing and performing much of his work himself, Wilson’s music blends warm, nostalgic tones with modern production in a way that feels both familiar and current. Guided by his personal mantra, “Listen to nobody,” his solo material carries a real sense of independence and self-belief, reflecting an artist learning who he is in real time.

That spirit runs straight through his latest single, “Gemini,” a groove-led track that captures the rush of being truly seen by someone. The song leans into the idea of duality, uncovering the different sides we reveal once we let our guard down. With subtle nods to both ‘80s pop and today’s indie innovators, “Gemini” feels effortless but thoughtful. It’s a confident step forward for Wilson and a strong example of why he’s becoming an exciting new name within the UK indie pop space.

Julia Wolf had a really cool year. Pressure combined so many alternative sounds, from hyperpop to shoegaze, and made it feel accessible. It’s a high bar to make metalcore and also dance music, but Julia did it! If that wasn’t left field and interesting enough, Pressure was remixed and turned the bass to 11 on 2MUCHPRESSURE, the collab remix EP with producer 2DUMB. Across these two projects, there more ideas than can be quickly deciphered, and Julia Wolf’s future can go in any direction.

My seventh and final night at the Montreal Jazz Festival got interrupted by thunderstorms, and I was dismayed by the notion that an otherwise incredible week of nonstop live music would end on a sour note for me. Julius Rodriguez, an impressively talented musician from New York, wins major points for me for (1) truly saving my night by performing at Studio TD, a black box theater in Place des Arts, shortly after the storms had cleared and (2) delivering a sensational multi-instrumental performance along with his band that I surely would have enjoyed whether I was looking for a great show to redeem my night or not. Lucky for me, I was also able to catch a little bit of Julius as a guest pianist at the Newport Jazz Festival the following month. I’ll be keeping an eye out for future shows of his, and in the meantime, I’m happily enjoying his newest single: “Con Polaris,” a summertime collaboration with INSTANT ALTER, Nataha Agrama and Emilio Modeste.

Utah-based indie rock artist Kevin McCune has been kicking it in online indepedent circles for a few years now, and it’s through his utterly incredible 2025 album Knots into Frays that I’ve finally come to discover him. The album is bursting with brilliant songcraft across all ten tracks, which run the gamut from the tender folk rock of “Strung Together Sentences” and “Forever Again” to bright, electrifying indie rock on “Isosceles Divide” and “Guillotine.” It’s all tied together with these beautiful, impressionistic words from McCune that examines both his interior and exterior lives. I was fortunate enough to contribute to the record in a minor way, with strings on the dynamic “Empty Rooms, Waiting Walls,” but rest assured, this album would be among my favorites regardless if I did anything on it. Kevin McCune is a truly special songwriter and I cannot wait to see where he goes next.

I spent 28 days in Quebec this year and saw tons of live music throughout that span, but one of my very favorite discoveries of the Quebec music scene actually took place outside of La Belle Province, when (like the Montreal Expos hehe) I eventually left and made the trek down to Washington, DC. There, at the Millennium Stage of the Kennedy Center, I saw Le Vent du Nord – a progressive folk group from Saint-Antoine-sur-Richelieu – deliver an electrifying rendition of their latest album, Voisinage – a term, they explained, has no real equivalent in English, but basically means the relationship that you have with your neighbors. After a show like that, I definitely have an even stronger impression of our friendly neighbors to the nord, I must say! I look forward to potentially seeing Les Vents du Nord again when they stop by New Hampshire this coming February.

Wonderfully playful, gloriously outlandish, and viscerally punk – Mad Tsai’s music has been one of my favourite discoveries this year. Beyond the music, 2025 presented a true moment for the singer, where teetering vocals and dream tableaus dominated Mad Tsai’s signature sound.

Turning asian artistry on its head, Mad Tsai blends the best of both worlds – claiming the utmost unapologetic authenticity in an industry rife with boxes and rules.

It’s a genuine delight to discover a band such as Mouseatouille. The mercurial Australian ensemble with some nine or ten members (depends on who counts) is led by the duo of Harry Green and Spencer Nooman, and together they make some of the most wonderfully ornate and direct pop rock / chamber pop that’s out there in the independent music scene at the moment. Their songs are bolstered by a pocket orchestra filled with strings, woodwinds, horns, pianos, glockenspiels, and whatever other eccentric instruments they could cram into a rock group, and everything works flawlessly. My introductory song to them was “Mike & Melissa,” a track off of their 2025 album DJ Set; a two-and-a-half minute track retelling the story of an infamous internet animation by the same name, it features a punchy overdriven guitar solo and an ascendant climax of orchestration and vocals…and it’s about a guy’s imaginary skunk girl. That a song that grandiose could be about such a thing should tell you everything you need to know about Mouseatouille – and it’s one of the best listens I’ve had all year. Other tracks like “Harry and the Jets” and “America Song” are orchestrated suburban epics recalling past indie pop / chamber pop visionaries like Beulah and Belle & Sebastian with Mouseatouille’s unique brand of musicality and storytelling. And yet, nothing about this band feels out-of-reach or obtuse; these guys are just friendly and charming musical nerds making some truly picturesque songs, and everything points to it getting even better from here.

Nami quietly debuted this year with a set of songs that have since proved at once irresistible and absolutely, utterly undeniable. The LA-based singer/songwriter and producer – also a sound designer and co-producer for globally renowned acts like Ariana Grande, Bryson Tiller, Jack Harlow, and Cordae – injects playfulness and curiosity into his art, which itself is often guided more by instinct than ambition. There’s something refreshing about how unforced and authentic his music feels, like it’s discovering itself in real time.

Nami first surfaced in January with the understated “Northstar,” followed by the silky, self-assured “Connoisseur,” but it was his third single, “Suzette,” that fully snapped everything into focus for me. Bright, bubbly, and intoxicatingly catchy, the track announces a voice that understands pop structure while resisting polish for polish’s sake – favoring raw edges, melodic instinct, and feeling over perfection. “Suzette, I ain’t got you yet, but no one’s taking you from me,” Nami sings in the infectious, emotionally charged refrain, a moment that calls to mind the King of Pop himself. “Suzette, I’ll lose all my breath if you keep on running from me.”

In a springtime conversation, Nami described himself as a student – someone always learning, listening, and experimenting – but his debut album WARM (released in May) proves he’s already far more assured than he lets on. Self-produced and intentionally unvarnished, the album reveals a songwriter with a sharp ear for catchy, cathartic, and emotionally resonant melody, and a willingness to let songs breathe instead of forcing them into shape. It’s a breathtakingly bold, soulful, seductive, and spirited 38-minute journey – one that defies genre, all while introducing Nami as a captivating creative force.

Still, it’s “Suzette” that remains my anchor: A track so effortlessly addictive, it feels like an invitation to lean in and pay closer attention. If this is just the beginning, I can only hope time proves me right – because I’m already craving whatever comes next from this enigmatic, quietly singular artist.

Nxdia’s debut mixtape I Promise No One’s Watching continues to hit me like a live wire. Released back in June, it’s the most energetic, charged, dynamic, dramatic thing I’ve heard in 2025, and the kind of project that dares you not to play it again the second it ends. The London-based alt-pop artist delivers high-octane feeling unapologetically and uncompromisingly: messy, bold, funny, feral, tender –sometimes all in the same breath. It doesn’t sound like a testing of the waters; it sounds like an artist stepping forward already fully in their body, fully in their voice, and refusing to dim it for even a second.

I first fell in through “Body on Me,” which is shameless, cheeky, and flirty on the surface, and packed with real angst and aching underneath that heat. Nxdia’s infectious hook says it best: “Not just a body, you’re somebody, what a body, you’re somebody to me.” It’s sweaty and in-your-face, sure, but it’s also about the moment when attraction turns into something heavier – when “hooking up turns into staying over,” when you can’t pretend you’re not catching feelings, and you decide you’d rather feel loudly and proudly than sit in silence. That same emotional clarity runs through the mixtape as a whole – a bold self-portrait that keeps flipping between freedom and self-surveillance, desire and vulnerability, the version of you that doesn’t care and the version of you that cares so deeply. Tracks like “She Likes a Boy,” “Jennifer’s Body,” “Feel Anything,” “Nothing At All,” and “More!” further solidify Nxdia as a singular, undeniable presence – and one we should all be paying close attention to for years to come. If this is them nudging the door open before blasting it ajar, then consider me convinced. This mixtape doesn’t just set them up as an artist to watch in 2026; it makes it feel inevitable.

I was approximately one verse and half a chorus into their newest single, “Male Friend” when I declared to my empty room: “Holy shit, who is this person? I must know everything.” Must be noted that right now everything consists of a handful of songs, but oh my what songs they are. Funny, relatable and unashamedly queer, Kennedy is the voice of a generation that is wry and had enough of everyone’s shit already. With a new EP coming out early next year, this is certainly a name to have on your radar.

Rocking, immediate, and energetic, Passing Thoughts’s “Everything I Could Have Been” is an excellent first impression from this New York City indie rock band. In less than three minutes, Passing Thoughts showcases the very best parts of their sound, doing the classic lineup of two guitars/bass/drums/vocals so well that one would think that there’s no need for anything else. In a musical ecosystem filled with tons of music, it is great to hear a song that sounds ready to flood your ears right from the get-go. “Everything I Could Have Been” feels like a mission statement for the band at-large, as the song’s lyrics detail the insecurities of youth and the innate desire to pursue unrealistic dreams – acknowledging the careers that exist out there that are much more stable than a rock band. There’s an intense amount of passion that must come with being in a rock band, and with their debut single, Passing Thoughts have already proven that they’re in it for the love of the game above anything else

To set the scene: doomscrolling on TikTok, the mind begins to go foggy. And then this five-piece band squeezed into a portrait-mode video appears on screen – singing their rendition of “Rich Girl.” I immediately perked up the first time I heard Penelope Road – and probably watched the video 3 times on loop. In a world of digital melodies, heavy production, and tech-infused beats, Penelope Road show us that a live band still strikes the way it used to.

Doused in shimmering melodies, and silken vocals, Penelope Road also shine in their instrumental compositions and melodic synergy. The band shines in their undeniable chemistry and believe it or not – they sound even better live. Releasing their biggest EP to date, Chance Encounter, was their gift to 2025, with endearing lyricisms holding a string through tracks like “Chance Encounter” to “Feel it Coming My Way.” Chance Encounter presents a step forward in the band’s assured sound, a glorious sneak peek into what’s to come.

There’s something disarmingly human about Petey USA’s music – equal parts spiraling and sincere, funny and feral, deeply anxious and oddly comforting. His songs feel like overheard inner monologues, the kind you laugh at first and then realize are cutting a little too close to home. They hold space for panic, tenderness, self-awareness, and hope all at once, never sanding down the mess in favor of polish. That balance – chaos with heart, humor with ache – is what makes his work feel so alive.

I first encountered Petey in person earlier this year when he toured with Medium Build, stopping for a special, stripped-back night at Woodstock’s Levon Helm Studios that felt more like a conversation than a concert. The show was intimate and interactive, full of give-and-take, such that by the time I actually sat down with his music afterward, it felt like I already knew him. And as expected, I was instantly hooked. Falling into The Yips – his fourth studio album, released in July – only deepened that connection. The record plays like a communal exhale, a collection of songs about being a little too human in a world that keeps demanding composure.

And while The Yips is stacked with standouts, it’s lead single “Model Train Town” that hit me hardest – a cathartic, unhinged, wildly empathetic song that cemented Petey USA as one of the most emotionally resonant artists I discovered this year. The song stands as the album’s emotional flashpoint. A feral, cathartic fever dream, it captures the strange humiliation of loving something that the people around you don’t understand. When Petey howls, “I had a f*ed up dream / The whole world ended violently / The only people left were you and me,” apocalypse becomes intimacy, destruction becomes relief. Hearing it live at Levon Helm Studios, stripped down to nothing but voice, guitar, and conviction, felt seismic – like the room itself might crack open under the weight of recognition.

Produced by Chris Walla (of Death Cab for Cutie), The Yips might be Petey USA’s most eclectic and emotionally ambitious album to date, yet it also feels like his most grounded. From the satire and emotional exorcism of title track “The Yips” and the unshakeable churn of “The Milkman” to the subtle ache of “Breathing the Same Air,” each song feels like a different table in the same room, populated by familiar faces wrestling with familiar thoughts. As Petey puts it, “I’m just singing about being there for your friends” – but these songs extend that grace inward, too, offering compassion to the parts of ourselves we usually try to outpace. It’s a barstool therapy session that manages to be laugh-out-loud funny and quietly devastating at the same time.

What makes The Yips linger is how unafraid it is of contradiction. It’s witty and warm without being flippant, anxious without being hopeless, and painfully self-aware without hiding behind irony. When Petey repeats, “I want to quit,” only to follow it with, “I swear to God I won’t pass it on to my kids,” his words land like a gut punch softened by resolve. The anxiety is generational, but so is the effort to break the cycle. In that sense, The Yips isn’t just an album – it’s a coping mechanism, a group hug, and a shared admission that none of us really have it figured out. Petey USA doesn’t pretend otherwise, and that honesty is exactly why his music feels like it matters.

Reem Mitten doesn’t write heartbreak in broad strokes – she writes it up close, in the moment where the dynamic shifts and you realize you’re no longer being seen the way you thought you were. Her songs live in that collision of anger, longing, nostalgia, and betrayal, and she delivers it with a smoldering voice that’s magnetic, commanding, and impossible to ignore – the kind that can stay soft and still hit like a gut-punch.

I first fell for her through “Back to the Start of It,” a song that aches intimately and unapologetically in all the right places – cathartic, catchy, and cool all at once. It’s slick and soulful, gently all-consuming in the way it holds your gaze and doesn’t let go, spiraling through that hollow, impossible wish to rewind time: “I wanted it, I needed it… How do we get back to the start of it?” Mitten described writing it to capture “a shift in dynamics” – the crack that brings frustration and feeling misunderstood – and you can hear that tension in every line, especially when she turns the hurt outward: “Don’t you know that you wrote this? Don’t you know that you caused it?”

Her latest single “What the Hell” feels like its counterpart – the “younger sister,” as Mitten puts it – more reflective, more resigned, but no less bruising. It’s the sound of letting someone back in even when the first verse already tells you history will repeat itself, and it lands hardest in that achey flashback of a line: “Call me back to when I was 17… why is everything so heavy?” What makes Reem matter, to me, is that she’s not trying to over-explain anything. She’s building emotional portals – songs shaped to fit whatever you’ve lived through, so you don’t see her in them as much as you see yourself.

Start with “Back to the Start of It,” then follow it straight into “What the Hell.” One burns, one lingers – both leave a mark.

Hailing from Jersey in the Channel Islands, Rich Allo has crafted his own unique style where pop-rock drama meets genuine emotional grit. Drawing on a wide palette of influences and a lifelong relationship with music that began in childhood, his sound feels both expansive and deeply personal. His songs serve as a vessel for the messy realities of your twenties, covering themes ranging from identity shifts, mental health, love, and the constant sense of becoming, all brought together with a theatrical undercurrent which stems from his background in acting. A standout track from 2025 is “You,” a deeply personal release that starts off quietly before building into something much bigger and more intense. The song mirrors the feeling of trying to stay in control when emotions start to take over. As Rich explains, “Sometimes you don’t quite know what you’re writing about or who to, but it still hits somewhere real. ‘You’ came from that place.” It’s a song that many listeners will relate to for its honesty, even without clear answers and that’s what makes his music so refreshing and totally compelling.

Somewhere between R&B and house, Rochelle Jordan’s most recent record Through the Wall is sonically lush and brimming with an infectious confidence that sucked me straight into the artist’s discography this year. Jordan’s music has been on repeat since her new album was recommended to me in the latter half of the year, fulfilling my craving for house music and energetic songs that are prime for everything from a pre-game with friends to moments of escapism in solitude. She showcased her lyrical wit with her most recent record, lyrics from songs like “The Boy” and “Never Enough” only feeling all the more addicting thanks to their expertly crafted production. Rochelle Jordan needs to be added to people’s mix who apprecaite sultry vocals beside brain-scratching, club-sonics.

Wriggly, groovy, upside-down soundwaves bounce around with Shishi’s every move. The trio’s dance-inducing tunes popped onto my radar earlier this year when they made their way from their home in Lithuania all the way over to Texas for SXSW. In fact, they were one of the final acts I saw during the music festival and I’ve been impatiently awaiting my next fix ever since. The three women lock into the same playful rhythm as if exuding a single aura, dancing and performing as one. They dropped their FAQ EP in April and it’s just as enticing as they are themselves. All hail Shishi!

smokedope2016 is in the middle of an incredible trilogy – THE COMEUP, THE PEAK, THE COMEDOWN. We have yet to hear the conclusion to the trilogy, but 2025 brought us both THE PEAK and the throwaways on SLOW DOWN. Continually collaborating with producer lil fitted cap, smokedope2016’s ease over extremely spacey and vibed-out production created a lane in the ever-saturated cloud rap world.

sombr feels like one of those artists who sneak up on you, and then suddenly feels inescapable. His songs sit in that hazy space between tenderness and ache, where intimacy feels fragile and memory does most of the heavy lifting. There’s an ease to his writing that makes the pain land harder – glistening guitars, soft-focus melodies, and lyrics that go straight for the quiet thoughts you don’t usually say out loud. It’s indie pop that sounds gentle on the surface, but lingers like a bruise.

I caught the fever with “undressed,” his first single of 2025, and it hasn’t let go since. Built around one devastating, plainspoken line – “I don’t wanna get undressed for a new person all over again” – the song captures the exhaustion of starting over after heartbreak with disarming clarity. It’s dreamy and warm, but there’s a heavy nostalgia underneath, a reluctance baked into every note. Released just months after last December’s “back to friends” quietly changed everything for him, “undressed” felt like the emotional hinge point: Softer, sadder, and utterly impossible to shake.

That same ache runs throughout his debut album, I Barely Know Her, which somehow manages to feel both effortless and deeply felt. Tracks like “12 to 12” and “we never dated” carry their own undeniable pull, but for me it always comes back to “undressed” – the way it aches without overreaching, the way it stays with you long after it ends. sombr might look like an overnight success on paper, but the connection he’s building feels earned, personal, and real. This is the kind of debut that doesn’t just break through – it sticks.

Los Angeles-based singer/songwriter Syd Taylor creates warm, indie sounds that are a declaration of truth and independence, saturated with Hollywood glamour. Her debut album, After the Fact, released on June 25, serves as living proof that she is here to reveal her internal world, allowing others to resonate with and reflect with sincerity. This year, she has performed at the iconic Gold Diggers in East Los Angeles, known for its on-site recording studio, proximity, and opportunity to showcase her poetic story of hopeful enchantment through her artistry and expression. Taylor’s self-titled label, released by Syd Taylor Records, features intimate ballads drenched in vintage charm.

The album is full of acoustic gems such as “Heaven” a sentimental, beautiful pull on the heartstrings that carries the talent she wants to share with her audience, reaching far beyond regular storytelling. She is shaping the hearts of others with her subtle vibrato and sweeping personality. Listeners can dive deeper into her live performances by exploring the playlist on YouTube, titled “Live from the Hollywood Hills.” The production of the six-series videos captures the spirit and she creates a visual and vulnerable gaze into her world, while transporting listeners to a “Heaven” where her musical artistry and wings shine in the City of Angels.

The Favors feel like the kind of band we don’t get enough of anymore – two fully formed singer/songwriters choosing to share the spotlight, the story, and the scar tissue. FINNEAS and Ashe don’t show up here as “guest vocalist” and “producer”; they show up as co-conspirators in heartbreak, trading lines like they’re trying to tell the truth at the exact same time. On The Dream, that chemistry becomes the whole point: A record that breaks your heart, mends it, and then does it again – and again – and again.

It started, for me, with this past June’s debut single “The Little Mess You Made,” an instant classic that left me speechless and stirred; I’ve been singing it nonstop since it dropped. The song’s power is in how structurally genius it is: FINNEAS opens with his side, Ashe answers with hers, and by the third verse they’re singing over and through one another, like ghosts of the same argument. The waltz tempo keeps everything moving while the weight keeps stacking – “The little mess you made / Is filling up our room…” becomes “all over the news,” and suddenly the private damage has a public echo. There’s no ego here, only ache – Ashe leaning into her lines with quiet fury, FINNEAS letting his voice break just enough to sting – harmony as confrontation, and catharsis.

That exact push-pull is what makes The Dream feel so special: Warm, fuzzy, and heartbroken all at once, in Ashe’s words. It’s a true long-play in the best sense – one you can put on front-to-back, let it play in the background of real life, and still find yourself stopped cold by a line when it lands. Whether The Favors become a long-running partnership or a one-off spark, The Dream – and truly, their existence – already feels like one of 2025’s brightest surprises – a light we didn’t know we needed until we had it.

The Heartstrings Project is a collection of artists who are superbly talented on their own, but together they create something that couldn’t exist otherwise. There’s an ease to the music they make – an ability to produce moments that feel like sitting in the same room with people you care about, fully present and unguarded.

Their five-song EP, Into the Wild, released earlier this year, captures that same sense of presence and authenticity. It reminds listeners to slow down, tune out the noise, and feel genuinely connected at a time when it’s easy to be pulled in the opposite direction.

LA based indie pop duo slash best friends Jewls and Andrea have created a bedroom pop haven for fans and casual listeners alike. Earlier this year, the duo’s song, still love you (todavía) – released late last year, gained more traction (and began circulating) all across social media. From haul videos to vlogs, the song was featured in just about every video you could think of! The song, a beautiful marriage of both of their voices, has a dreamy and captivating lure that pairs especially well with the lyrics. The lyrics, both in English and Spanish, is also a nod to the duo’s cultures (Latina and Filipina) which inspire their music as well. Combining elements of life, their upbringing / childhood, and love, the two continue to make the sweetest contribution to the genre.

Thredd hails from a basement in West London, where the underground air buzzed with a kind of quiet electricity – the perfect conditions for starting a band. Their debut record, It’s Lovely, Come On In picks at the wounds of isolation and oblivion with scalpel-like precision. In “Horseshow,” Imogen Williams takes the lead on this warped siren-song, lamenting, “Wishing every day that I looked right, but I don’t have the money for that tonight.” The groove arrives draped in gothic harmony, piercing the permafrost with a burst of staggering, subterranean bass. Thredd uses silence to their advantage just as much as noise. You can hear the space in between each note, leaving phantasmic bass lines and fuzzy percussion to fill in the blanks. Shades of 2003 Radiohead and Massive Attack fold into this bold collision of electronica and rock, creating an impressive depth of vulnerability and opening an enviable world of possibility for Thredd.

Twen’s new album Fate Euphoric is a mood boost, and their 2022 album One Stop Shop is the perfect record to dance in the kitchen to. “Godlike” encapsulates their addictive sound.

In my now-lifelong quest to get into as much women- and femme-fronted metal as I can, I came across VEXED this year. They are a British metal outfit from Hertfordshire formed in 2019, and I love the electronic and synth-based elements they incorporate into their songs. I’m particularly enthused by frontwoman Megan Targett’s growl. It’s almost unearthly harsh, and I love that you can hear her accent peeking through. “Anti-Fetish” is, to me, one of VEXED’s best songs. It spits, with great gusto, in the face of an industry that still quotas, tokenizes and ostracizes those who don’t fit the typical, historical demographic of metal music-makers. It’s a tired and archaic frame of mind that VEXED is more than justified in calling out. Beyond this track, VEXED are a balls-to-the-wall metal trio who unabashedly embrace their brutality, weaponizing it against nonbelievers and naysayers.

Xenia’s a surrealist siren, I wouldn’t know how else to describe her. Definitely my top musical discovery of 2025. Her music is wonderfully experimental, with a nocturnal atmosphere that both haunts and fascinates. I had the pleasure of discovering her thanks to this year’s Primavera Sound, in a futuristic industrial pop live performance. It’s a sound with exceptional production, which almost seems to come from another world, but it’s an honour to witness the art she creates.

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2025