Every Friday, Atwood Magazine’s staff share what they’ve been listening to that week – a song, an album, an artist – whatever’s been having an impact on them, in the moment.
This week’s weekly roundup features music by Master Peace, Maisie Peters, Post Sex Nachos & BAILEN, Balming Tiger, Dan Beltridge & Novo Amor, Roil, Dayfiction, DD Island, MASKS, Winnabego, Burgundy, Tobacco Road, Jim E. Brown, Luchino, The Slingers, Lois, NMDA & Isabelle Rose, Shaina Hayes, Symonne, Nordly, St. Catherine’s Child & Tom Ashbrook, Last Known Species, saplanet, Elare André, & SAMOH!
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:: “ONE of ONE” – Master Peace ::
Mitch Mosk, Beacon, New York
Master Peace’s “ONE of ONE” doesn’t walk into the room so much as burst through the door grinning. The latest single from Peace Okezie’s forthcoming album if i don’t love you, who will ? is high-energy indie pop/rock at its finest – all big, pulsing drums, radiant guitars, glistening bass, and a hook that moves like it knows exactly where the party is.
“My debut album changed my life, and I never imagined that I’d be in this position now creating freely and confidently,” Okezie says. “This album is 2 years in the making, shaped by a very specific time in my life. I took all the hurt and confusion and made something that I’m proud of.”
That confidence spills all over “ONE of ONE.” Peace holds nothing back here, pouring himself into every line with dazzling charisma and infectious enthusiasm. The track is playful, flirtatious, and full of swagger, but never too cool to have fun; it thrives on that electric balance between charm and urgency, confidence and appetite. “Cause her friends don’t like me and I don’t mind / She got a face card on her that I’ll never decline” lands like a wink over the song’s bouncing pulse, turning romantic pursuit into pure kinetic release.
The track’s magic is in how effortless it all feels. Master Peace has always had a gift for collapsing genre walls – indie rock, punk, pop, alternative, and club-ready energy all crashing together in one bright, restless sound – and “ONE of ONE” feels like that instinct sharpened into something immediate and irresistible. The bass pops, the guitars glow, and his vocal performance does what great pop frontmen do best: It makes confidence sound generous, as if everyone listening has been invited into the rush.
As a preview of if i don’t love you, who will ?, “ONE of ONE” captures an artist operating at full voltage. It’s spirited, stylish, and wildly replayable, the kind of song that turns attraction into motion and motion into momentum. Master Peace sounds like he’s having the time of his life – and with a chorus this bold and a performance this charismatic, it’s impossible not to get swept up in the charge.
:: Florescence – Maisie Peters ::
Emily Weatherhead, Toronto, Canada
2026 is shaping up to be a massive year for women in pop music, and Maisie Peters has claimed her place in the conversation with her new album Florescence. This album feels like a breath of fresh air, perfectly capturing the energy of its late-spring release. The production is intimate, framing the glimpse into Peters’s life in a way that feels personal. You could be listening to a pop star singing to you from a big stage at a summer festival, or you could be listening to your friend play you a song she wrote in her bedroom.
Peters has had to contend with a lot of criticism over the past two years, particularly after her time opening for Taylor Swift on The Eras Tour (a painful experience she reflects on in lead track “Mary Janes,” singing, “Sometimes when I sing I get the big note wrong / The teenagers held onto that all summer long.”) Florescence feels like a reclaiming of what brought her success in the first place: Her poetic songwriting, her relatable vulnerability, and her genuine passion for her craft.
Florescence is refreshing and unapologetic. Peters explores the magic of finding someone who sees you for who you truly are, the pressures that come with being a woman in the spotlight, and the reality of having to confront old heartbreaks as you step into new loves. Standout tracks include “Kingmaker,” where Peters teams up with songwriting powerhouse Julia Michaels (who also sings on the track) and “Flat Earther,” where Peters compares the pain of believing your love can change someone to a conspiracy theory. Overall, Florescence lives up to its name: Maisie Peters is in full bloom with this entry into her next chapter of songwriting.
:: “A Lot to Lose (ft. BAILEN)” – Post Sex Nachos ::
Chloe Robinson, California
“We’re still moving together, no matter where we are” is such a powerful lyric. It speaks to the kind of friendships that endure through time and distance, remaining deeply connected no matter where life leads. Indie pop outfit Post Sex Nachos’ single “A Lot To Lose” details that kind of fiercely loyal connection where you are in it together through thick and thin. Smooth charismatic vocals atop glistening guitars and captivating synths give the track an intoxicating sense of warmth and nostalgia. BAILEN steps in and deepens the emotional weight with a luminous yet brooding tonal presence.
The foursome is composed of Sammy Elfanbaum (vocals/rhythm guitar), Mitch Broddon (lead guitar), Kevin Jerez (keyboards), Chase Mueller (bass) and Hunter Pendleton (drums). Founded by Sammy Elfanbaum and Chase Mueller, the band has become known for their electrifying live performances, taking the stage at renowned festivals like Lollapalooza, Summerfest and Bonnaroo. From sharing stages with acclaimed acts like Stolen Gin and The Strumbellas to headlining sold-out shows of their own, the band continues to build strong momentum. “A Lot To Lose” keeps that push going.
:: “Keep On” – Balming Tiger ::
Charlie Recksieck, San Diego, CA
Don’t be thrown by Balming Tiger being thought of as a K-Pop collective of rappers, musicians, DJs and video artists. If Fatboy Slim’s “Weapon of Choice” is your jam, then this is right in that wheelhouse and you’re on solid ground. If this song and album doesn’t land hugely with music fans, then I need to stop making music predictions.
The industrial sounds that start “Keep On” are inspired as they eventually bleed into a relentless beat. To say it’s “driving” is an understatement. What at first sounds chaotic emerges as a unified anthem about modern work, repetition, and momentum. The lyrics are in three different languages; the chorus refrain of “I think it’s running out – Tell me what’s going on” and counting in Spanish is basic enough. As great as this is without knowing Korean, a little Googling further convinced me this is brilliant. There’s no narrative lyrically, but most of the pieces fit the mechanical pulse of work being constant. Most of this is about pushing forward, work as grind, and your shift never really being over. “Every day feels like a hamster wheel” – “Flowing, flowing, flowing on / Keep on smiling / On your chair” – “Delete everything I made yesterday” – it all turns the office into an endless locomotive. A bunch of singers drop in and out of the track. A male group chorus, three different rappers, and the female singers take over the further it goes.
Their earlier material often felt like separate experiments (hip-hop, alternative, electronic), but in 2026 Balming Tiger melts those genres down into one unstoppable vibe, especially in “Keep On.” It’s five songs in one, yet completely unified. And the only thing I really know for sure is that when the 3 minute 50 second track is finished, I just want to hear it again. If these Roundup reviews are somewhat about advocacy, I’m telling you right now: Play this song.
:: “Green Screen” – Dan Bettridge ft. Novo Amor ::
Mitch Mosk, Beacon, New York
Dan Bettridge’s “Green Screen” feels like a soft hand reaching through the dark. Featuring Novo Amor, the Welsh indie folk singer/songwriter’s latest single is a dreamy, tender reverie that glows with hard-won clarity – sweet, seductive, and achingly enchanting as it finds the first flickers of light after grief.
“‘Green Screen’ was one of the first songs I wrote after my Dad’s passing – it had been a while,” Bettridge tells Atwood Magazine. “It felt like an outreached hand after the ground had given way beneath me. It’s about finding clarity, a perspective shift that could only have come from such a huge life event. It’s the exit from the darkness and a re-birth into the new, post-grief life. Those first strange but wonderful moments where joy stepped back into my life – whispering you’re not out of the woods yet, but you will be.”
“Just like the theme that runs through this album, ‘Green Screen’ has a real “this too shall pass” feel about it for me. The fact that this song stood out to Ali (Novo Amor) makes it even more special. I have respected his work for a long time. For Ali to see and understand where I am coming from, both lyrically and production-wise, is a real honour. I’m so grateful for his generosity in lending his unique artistry, his openness and most of all, his friendship.” –
That sense of being pulled gently back toward life lives in every corner of “Green Screen.” Bettridge sings with a bruised warmth, his voice carrying the strange contradiction of feeling both hollowed out and newly awake, while Novo Amor’s presence adds a ghostly radiance to the song’s edges. Together, they create a world that feels suspended between grey skies and California light, between the ache of absence and the quiet return of wonder: “I feel happy under grey skies / A little pain helps me feel alive.”
The song’s central image is quietly devastating. A green screen can be a backdrop, a performance, a life built around what we’re told should matter – and here, Bettridge lets it burn. “Upside down / I’ve been seeing it the wrong way round / Green screen’s burning to the ground / I’ll get out / Just not right now” becomes less a confession of being stuck than a promise of eventual movement, the honest in-between place where healing hasn’t arrived yet, but has finally come into view.
“Green Screen” is haunting because it doesn’t rush the listener out of grief. It sits inside the fog and finds beauty there, offering tenderness not as a cure, but as company. As the fourth single from Bettridge’s forthcoming sophomore album, it’s a luminous reminder that joy can return softly, almost shyly – and still change the whole room when it does.
:: Living Outside the Closet – Roil ::
Danielle Holian, Galway, Ireland
There is a softness to Living Outside the Closet that feels intentional, like Roil is holding each emotion just close enough to be understood but not so tightly that it loses its fragility. The Belgium-based artist approaches indie-pop as a space for emotional unpacking, where identity, desire, and memory are allowed to coexist without hierarchy. The result is an album that feels deeply human in its uncertainty. Throughout the record, Roil writes from a place of emotional honesty that rarely feels performative. “bedroom cry” and “uneasy” exist in that tender space between reflection and release, capturing moments of quiet collapse rather than dramatic rupture. There is a consistent sense that these songs are not declarations, but confessions still in motion, still being processed as they are sung.
The production mirrors this emotional openness. Ambient textures, soft-focus synths, and delicate melodic structures create an atmosphere that feels suspended in time. Rather than pushing for impact, the sound design leans into intimacy, allowing silence and space to carry as much meaning as melody. It’s a sonic environment that encourages closeness without intrusion. Queerness, in Roil’s hands, is not framed as a single story of struggle or triumph, but as a layered emotional landscape. Tracks like “Outside the Closet” and “Shittier Than Goodbye” navigate longing and heartbreak with a kind of weary tenderness, while “I don’t mind” offers a fragile sense of acceptance that feels earned rather than resolved. Nothing here is simplified; everything is felt in layers.
Living Outside the Closet feels like an act of gentle self-documentation. Roil is not trying to arrive at a definitive version of himself through these songs, but to preserve the shifting emotional states that define becoming. It is an album that understands identity as something fluid and ongoing, and in doing so, creates space for listeners to see their own in-between moments reflected back at them.
:: Divine Intermission – Dayfiction ::
Danielle Holian, Galway, Ireland
Dayfiction’s Divine Intermission is the kind of EP that feels tailor-made for late-night walks, overcrowded venues, and existential spirals you somehow end up dancing through anyway. The Virginia post-punk quintet have been steadily building momentum over the last year, but this release feels like the moment everything clicks into place. Drawing from the icy intensity of Joy Division and the emotional urgency of bands like Fontaines D.C. and Shame, Dayfiction delivers a record that’s chaotic, cathartic, and surprisingly addictive. The guitars crash and shimmer in all the right places, the rhythm section keeps things moving with relentless energy, and Evan Solomon’s vocals carry just enough desperation to make every line hit harder.
What makes Divine Intermission so exciting is that it never feels trapped inside its influences. There’s a real sense of personality running through these songs; a band figuring themselves out in real time and sounding completely alive while doing it. Memorable highlights include “Castles,” When Reason Comes To Call,” and “June.” Written during a period of transition and uncertainty, the EP captures that strange emotional limbo between growing up and moving on, but it does so with style, tension, and massive replay value. Whether you’re already deep into modern post-punk or just looking for your next favourite underground band, Dayfiction have delivered the kind of release that demands repeat listens and probably sounds even louder live.
:: “No Lie” – DD Island ::
Julius Robinson, California
Brooklyn’s DD Island is a folk rock group channeling the breezy West Coast sound of the ’60s and ’70s. Their latest track “No Lie” delivers a compelling blend of twang-soaked guitars, earworm melodies, and propulsive bass lines that drive the song forward. Lyrics such as, “Walking down the road, wasting all your life. Chasing who knows what after who knows why,” reflect a sense of restless, aimless searching for meaning. Though the message is melancholy the single feels quite sunny and is accompanied by a playful video that displays the band doing karaoke in an eccentric dive bar.
The piece is off of their album Setting Sun, due out July 10. A lot of Setting Sun came together while the band was gigging around New York City and touring in their van, “Betty,” with each member adding their own unique songwriting perspective to the mix. “No Lie” is a perfect example of that shared creative process, distilling their experiences into a track that feels both personal and unifying in its laid-back, sunlit energy.
:: “Everybody Ever” – MASKS ::
Mitch Mosk, Beacon, New York
MASKS’ “Everybody Ever” moves like a spark finding oxygen. The second single from the artist’s upcoming debut EP First Life is a dynamic, exhilarating rush of soaring indie rock, charged with fire and fervor as roaring guitars, driving rhythms, and bright, buoyant melodies turn admiration into pure propulsion.
Behind that big, cinematic rush is a deeply human instinct: The need to tell someone they’re extraordinary while they’re still here to hear it. “I’ve been through some loss in recent years that has affected me pretty deeply,” Sterling Faux, who makes music as MASKS, tells Atwood Magazine. “One thing that has come out of that is I’m kind of over not telling people what they mean to me. There are people that I’m so fortunate to have in my world that are just magic, and everyone around them knows it- except maybe for them.”
“I’m pretty open about not having any idea how these songs arrive, I just get a glimpse and start trying to hear the next thing and the next thing until what’s playing back comes to life in the right ways. When ‘Everybody Ever’ first came through, I sort of knew it needed to be kind of wild and buoyant, like these people I’m describing, and so chasing that down was the fun and the challenge.”
That wild buoyancy is the song’s lifeblood. “Everybody Ever” feels dreamy and dramatic, but it never floats away; it surges, sweats, and catches fire, building a cinematic world around one simple truth: Some people bring so much color into a room that everyone sees it except them. “I can’t tell you why / Nobody ever told you / But you’re magic / Said everybody ever” becomes both chorus and confession, a long-overdue act of recognition shouted into the open air.
What makes the song land is how urgently it pushes against silence. MASKS turn affection into movement, grief into gratitude, and the fear of saying too much into the freedom of finally saying it. The guitars roar like a sky opening up, the melody lifts with almost reckless force, and Faux’s voice carries the feeling of someone chasing a revelation before it disappears.
“Everybody Ever” is a song about the magic we notice in others and too rarely name out loud. It’s catchy and charming, yes, but its real power lives in that charged emotional generosity – the impulse to stop waiting, stop withholding, and tell the people who light up our lives exactly what they are.
:: “Stingray” – Winnabego ::
Mitch Mosk, Beacon, New York
Winnabego’s “Stingray” hits like sunlight off the ocean and adrenaline in the bloodstream. The San Diego band’s latest offering is a spirited indie rock release full of propulsive energy, big beats, bold melodies, and the kind of radiant sweetness that makes heartbreak sound like a reason to move faster.
“It’s your classic breakup song, but with ocean imagery,” Winnabego share. “It’s about how there’s no ‘winners’ when it comes to that kind of thing. You both feel the sting of a breakup.”
That sting gives the song its bite. “Stingray” may shimmer with dreamy guitars and a buoyant, irresistible pulse, but its emotional current runs through the bruises left behind when love comes apart. “Hey there little stingray / Don’t you know it hurts me more than you” lands with a mix of accusation and ache, turning the beachy metaphor into a full-body feeling: venom in the eyes, sand in the room, fallout waiting just offshore.
Winnabego keep the song racing forward, packing punchy guitars, nostalgic melodies, and powerhouse vocals into a track that feels made for windows-down weather and post-breakup catharsis. It’s bright without being weightless, sweet without sanding down the hurt, and invigorating in the way only a great indie rock hook can be – letting pain kick up its heels, throw its shoulders back, and run straight into the sun.
By the end, “Stingray” feels less like a breakup autopsy than a release valve. Nobody wins, sure, but Winnabego find motion in the mess: A way to shake off the venom, dance through the damage, and turn being left “all black and blue” into something loud, alive, and impossible to resist. For fans of bands like Valley, joan, and The Beaches, Winnabego are bottling that same rush of sunlit emotion and catchy, all-consuming release – delivering bright, propulsive songs built to be sung aloud as we feel everything all at once.
:: “Marathon” – Burgundy ::
Mitch Mosk, Beacon, New York
Burgundy’s “Marathon” runs hot from the first breath. The Montreal-based alternative artist’s latest single is a spirited seduction with its pulse racing, a dreamy reverie with the speed turned up and the seatbelt off – exhilarating, intimate, and soaked in the kind of sunny, sweaty urgency that makes desire feel like forward motion.
“I wrote this song when I was in a long-distance relationship with my girlfriend,” he tells Atwood Magazine. “I was working around 70 hours a week trying to save up to go see her that summer and releasing my latest project, so everything was moving extremely fast around me. This song was my outlet for expressing how much I missed her, mentally and physically. It was still a very happy time in my life; I was excited to share more music with the world and about the experiences ahead of me, so that’s where the excitement and hopefulness come from. I wrote most of the lyrics before leaving Montreal, but refined them in Melbourne, going back and forth with my producer. We finalized it when I came back, and I’m incredibly proud of how it came together.”
That rush is everywhere in “Marathon,” a high-energy alternative pop track that moves like impatience made musical. Burgundy’s voice glides through longing with heat and ease, caught somewhere between need and momentum as the production ripples around him in warm, radiant waves. “20 hour flight / Wanna keep this going / I get busy but / I wan-an-ant / You ouh ouh” turns distance into friction, the miles between lovers only making the song’s pulse hit harder.
What makes “Marathon” so intoxicating is the way it lets romance feel both chaotic and committed. Burgundy isn’t pretending to be calm or above it; he’s restless, jealous, exhausted, excited, and all in. The hook – “You decide / I slide / Oh you know / I wanna see you” – lands like a promise delivered at full speed, equal parts flirtation and devotion. It’s seductive because it’s specific: The body misses what the heart already knows.
As the lead single from his upcoming EP Asterisk, “Marathon” captures Burgundy in motion, chasing connection through distance, work, ambition, and want. It rips and roars with gentle velocity, finding hope in the same place it finds hunger. This is summer music for the lovesick and overworked, for anyone running on fumes toward the person who makes the whole race worth it.
:: “Back In My Groove” – Tobacco Road ::
Julius Robinson, California
Modern blues-rock five-piece Tobacco Road tap into a fiery, funk-laced energy on “Back In My Groove,” crafting an irresistibly infectious track that is difficult to ignore. The emotive soul-drenched vocals over ripping guitar shreds make this single a deeply powerful listen. As the band was fully immersed in the grind of its first summer touring, working morning shifts at restaurants and spending long nights rehearsing in their sweltering Nashville garage, it certainly took its toll. “Back In My Groove” is all about finding yourself again amidst the madness.
The band takes inspiration from greats like Creedence Clearwater Revival and Fleetwood Mac. Infused with Central Texas spirit, Louisiana blues traditions, and North Carolina roots, their sound strikes a balance between timeless authenticity and modern energy. Tobacco Road captures the highs and lows of growing up, navigating love, loss, identity, and self-discovery, while celebrating the feeling of finding your people along the way.
:: Dirt – Jim E. Brown ::
Charlie Recksieck, San Diego, CA
I have no idea if Jim E. Brown’s album Dirt is great or awful, and I have no idea if I can recommend you even press play. This is a 15-song collection of ironic depressive meditations over ’80s synth. Most of the titles seem like they’re from an SNL commercial parody, and the cover is a middle-aged Brit billed as a 19-year-old suffering from “various degenerative conditions and alcoholism.” Is it all a joke?
Yes, the ‘80s production here is almost great. Songs like “I Want to be Immobile,” “I’m Still in Love with My Dead Ex,” or “Feed Me with a Funnel” achieve 1980’s replication better than modern tries by Ariel Pink or The Dare. On one hand, it’s sublime ‘80s like The Cure’s next-door neighbors made a great demo, yet there are things that are purely amateur hour like a volume spike 2 minutes into “I Wanna Get in Touch with My Inner Child” that is a home studio accident. And mind you, Jim E. Brown can not sing. WTF is going on here? Why is it still enjoyable and why is he an underground internet sensation beyond a one-note joke?
If you look at the titles only (“Someone Threw a Sausage Roll in My Face in Glasgow,” “Ryan Adams Unfollowed Me on Instagram”), it disguises some real emotion here. The album features Morrissey-style moodiness with an irony-inside-irony approach. Once you get past the funny titles, it gets more genuine. I don’t think Jim E. Brown’s self-loathing is an act.
Joke records don’t make for great music – but if you listen long enough, you can convince yourself of anything (see: me in college with my hot take that William Shatner records were amazing).
:: “My Whole Life” – Luchino ::
Danielle Holian, Galway, Ireland
Emerging pop artist Luchino continues refining his artistic identity with “My Whole Life,” a polished and emotionally resonant single that blends sleek contemporary production with deeply human storytelling. Rooted in the experience of encountering someone who feels instantly familiar, the track balances intimacy and grandeur in a way that feels effortlessly immersive.
Musically, the song thrives on atmosphere. Soft synth textures, clean melodic arrangements, and understated percussion allow Luchino’s expressive vocal performance to remain front and centre. There’s a cinematic quality woven throughout the record, yet it never loses its emotional immediacy. Instead of relying on dramatic excess, Luchino approaches vulnerability with elegance, allowing subtle emotional details to shape the song’s impact.
With “My Whole Life,” Luchino demonstrates an increasingly refined understanding of modern pop songwriting. The single feels emotionally authentic while remaining undeniably accessible, positioning him as an artist capable of creating music that resonates on both a personal and mainstream level. It’s a compelling step forward from a rising voice clearly focused on longevity rather than fleeting attention.
:: “Heavyweight” – The Slingers ::
Mitch Mosk, Beacon, New York
The Slingers’ “Heavyweight” feels like a room gone still after everyone else has left. Released at the close of 2025, the Melbourne quintet’s aching single trades the swagger of “Payphone Man” for a gentler kind of devastation: Warm acoustics, lonely slide guitar, and a worn indie rock glow that seems to gather dust in the corners as it plays.
“Heavyweight is a reflection on grappling with the inner critic, people pleasing, and shame. We tracked everything with producer Ben Irawan in a day after we did Payphone man together, and got Aaron Dobos on board to mix and master.”
That heaviness sits in the song’s bones. Ben Hooper’s voice carries the weight of someone trying to name what’s been pressing down on them for too long, his delivery fragile without feeling performative. “I keep diving in, before I’ve learnt to swim / Time was once a friend, now I can’t escape” cuts with a plainspoken ache, while the refrain – “If someone told me, I’d be carrying / A heavyweight” – turns private shame into a burden we can almost feel resting across our own shoulders.
The Slingers have long made what they call “Motel Pop,” songs drawn from ordinary lives bent beneath loneliness, longing, comedy, and tragedy. “Heavyweight” leans into the bruised side of that world, letting its brooding, dusty sensibility unfold slowly instead of pushing for release. The song doesn’t try to outrun its sadness; it sits with it, lets the guitars fray at the edges, lets the silence between phrases do some of the carrying.
What makes “Heavyweight” hit so hard is its refusal to dress up the hurt. This is The Slingers at their most vulnerable and unguarded, tracing the familiar shape of self-doubt until it becomes painfully human and deeply relatable. It’s a song for anyone who has ever smiled through the strain, waited for direction, or realized too late that what they’ve been carrying has been carrying them too.
:: “Small Town Party Girl” – Lois ::
Mitch Mosk, Beacon, New York
Lois’ spirited “Small Town Party Girl” storms the dance floor in Mary Janes and refuses to leave until the lights come up. The Morecambe-born, Leeds-based alt-pop artist’s first single of 2026 is ‘80s dance pop revived with invigorating color in the mid-2020s – sweet, sweaty, cheeky, and alive with the pulse of a night that knows exactly what it is.
“‘Small Town Party Girl’ is a love letter to my hometown,” Lois tells Atwood Magazine. “It’s Northern culture at its very best. It’s the glamorisation of small-town nightlife culture and my obsession with finding pockets of joy and escapism within the ordinary and the mundane. I grew up in a small seaside town called Morecambe, where there was very little to do. But if there’s one thing people from a small town know how to do, it’s how to throw a party. I remember growing up and being dragged along to the parties my parents were invited to in the working men’s clubs back home; it was always the same. The same beige buffet, the same ‘80s playlist and the same woman on the dancefloor. She was always the last one standing. I was always mesmerised by her, and that she didn’t care what anyone thought, to her, there was no one else in the room. Just her and the dancefloor. I was hooked.”
“The music of these parties soundtracked my childhood and teenage years, it was generational and seemed to have the same effect on everyone in the room. Blondie, Pet Shop Boys, Talking Heads, Grace Jones. What I was witnessing was complete escapism, and for one night, everyone in that room would take on a new skin, become a totally different animal and let themselves go. It’s in these small rooms hidden away in forgotten towns that true joy and self-expression are found, not the MET Gala or Coachella. It’s right here. It’s the event of the year.”
Lois turns that memory into a full-body celebration. The bass slaps, the drums clap, and the melody lines bounce with a buoyancy that makes strutting feel like second nature. Her voice, sweet and radiant, glides over the groove with a knowing smile as she glamorizes the beige buffet, the working men’s club, the woman on the floor who needs no velvet rope to become the center of the universe. “She don’t need no / 5 star to / Let her hair down / She’s small town party girl” lands less like a punchline than a manifesto.
That’s what makes “Small Town Party Girl” more than pastiche. Following last year’s SEVEN EP, Lois opens a new era by finding euphoria in the places pop culture rarely bothers to mythologize. She hears Prince, Blondie, Pet Shop Boys, Talking Heads, and Grace Jones not as museum-piece influences, but as living electricity passed down through family parties, local legends, and dance floors where ordinary people become extraordinary for a night.
By the time Lois calls out, “Thank you all for coming tonight / To see my show / The small town party girl,” the song has crowned its own queen. “Small Town Party Girl” is a love letter, a wink, a strut, and a spotlight all at once – proof that glamour doesn’t belong to the biggest room, the fanciest dress, or the loudest spectacle. Sometimes it’s a woman dancing like nobody can touch her, in a forgotten town, turning wisdom to wine.
:: “Stoned” – NMDA & Isabelle Rose ::
Danielle Holian, Galway, Ireland
NMDA and Isabelle Rose arrive on “Stoned” with a release that feels deeply intentional, almost journal-like in its emotional precision. It’s an electrosoul composition that leans into discomfort rather than resolution, blending gospel-tinged vocal power with cinematic electronic production that feels both intimate and expansive.
NMDA’s production is patient and textural, favouring slow emotional build over immediate payoff. Live instrumentation and electronic elements are woven together so seamlessly that the track often feels like it’s breathing rather than playing. There’s a sense of lived-in imperfection that makes the soundscape feel human, even at its most synthetic. Meanwhile, Isabelle Rose delivers a vocal performance that anchors the entire piece in emotional truth. Her delivery carries both restraint and release, moving through themes of trauma and reflection with a clarity that never feels performative. The result is a track that doesn’t ask to be decoded; it asks to be felt.
:: “Flourish” – Shaina Hayes ::
Mitch Mosk, Beacon, New York
Shaina Hayes’ “Flourish” feels like spring light poured through an open window. The Canadian folk singer/songwriter’s dulcet single is as tender as it is enchanting, a warm folk-pop bloom wrapped in mellow acoustic guitar, delicate rhythms, and pedal steel glow – all of it moving gently beneath Hayes’ smoldering voice.
Built around an image of love as growth, “Flourish” turns affection into an act of invitation. Hayes isn’t singing about possession or longing in the usual sense; she’s singing about wanting someone to become more fully themselves. Her melodies are sweet and rich, her delivery soft but magnetic, and the song’s warmth gathers slowly, like petals opening in the sun: “I wanna do to you / What I have seen of springtime / Pull you from your roots / And summon you to sunshine.”
“The idea for ‘Flourish’ came to me while I was reading John O’Donohue’s Anam Cara: A Book of Celtic Wisdom,” Hayes tells Atwood Magazine. “Within a section on intimacy, O’Donohue states how much he loves the word flourish as it pertains to a person. He spends the better part of a page expressing the beauty of this term: blooming to become the fullest, most dazzling version of yourself. I was immediately inspired by his definition of the word, and thought: what could be more romantic than to wish this for the folks you love – that they get the chance to become their absolute best self? That’s when I decided to use the word to seed this springtime love song.”
That seed lends “Flourish” its radiance. Hayes takes a simple blessing – may you bloom, may you grow, may you find yourself in the good light – and makes it feel intimate enough to hold in your hands. There’s desire here, certainly, but it’s threaded with generosity; romance becomes a wish for expansion, a hope that love might be less about keeping someone close than calling them toward the sun.
As the first glimpse of her upcoming third studio album, “Flourish” opens a new chapter with grace, patience, and understated wonder. It’s a song of renewal without spectacle, full of warmth and rooted in care – the kind of folk-pop reverie that reminds us love can be a shelter, a spark, and a season all at once.
:: “The Way You Love” – Symonne ::
Danielle Holian, Galway, Ireland
With “The Way You Love,” Symonne delivers a beautifully understated piece of contemporary R&B that explores the emotional architecture of memory with remarkable sensitivity. Rather than focusing on a specific relationship or moment, the song examines the lingering impressions people leave behind and how those experiences quietly shape our present selves. The writing is thoughtful and mature, avoiding obvious sentimentality in favour of something more nuanced: an acknowledgement that while certain chapters of life may be over, their emotional influence remains. This perspective gives the track an uncommon depth, transforming personal reflection into something universally resonant.
The production mirrors this theme with elegant precision. Warm chords, soft percussion, and carefully layered harmonies create a dreamlike atmosphere that feels suspended between past and present. Every sonic detail serves the emotional core of the song, allowing listeners to sink fully into its reflective mood. There is no rush to reach a climax; instead, the arrangement unfolds patiently, much like memory itself. Symonne’s vocal performance is particularly compelling, balancing vulnerability and restraint while maintaining an intimacy that draws the listener closer with every phrase.
What makes “The Way You Love” especially effective is its ability to capture a feeling many people struggle to articulate. The song is not about wanting to return to the past but about recognising its continued presence within us. Through subtle storytelling, atmospheric production, and an emotionally intelligent performance, Symonne transforms nostalgia into something reflective, comforting, and quietly profound. It is a song that rewards repeated listens, revealing new emotional textures each time and further establishing Symonne as a songwriter with a gift for turning deeply personal experiences into meaningful, shared moments.
:: “AFTERWAVES” – Nordly ::
Mitch Mosk, Beacon, New York
Nordly’s “AFTERWAVES” moves with the tender insistence of a memory still living in the body. The Danish-Swedish duo’s latest single is a gentle, dreamy reverie touched by indie pop warmth and subtle country shimmer, pulsing forward with a hypnotic pull as AnnaMia Lindblom and Frederik Breith-Mortensen’s close duet turns old turbulence into present-tense feeling.
There’s a seductive softness to the song’s momentum, the kind that draws us inward without ever losing its glow. Slide guitar adds a golden ache, while the vocals hover and entwine, intimate and invigorating in equal measure. “AFTERWAVES” doesn’t rage against the past so much as trace its outline: “Afterwaves from you / Inside my bones / Can’t shake it off.” The song feels light on its feet, but its center is heavy with recognition.
“AFTERWAVES is a homemade word but it’s meant to describe a childhood turbulence, how the experiences remain in the body as aftereffects, afterwaves. We hope that the song can bring some light to people who share this knowledge. We sing in Swedish in parts of the song, where we scientifically describe what a wave is.”
That blend of poetry and science gives “AFTERWAVES” its distinctive emotional charge. Nordly sing of childhood not as a fixed scene, but as a force that keeps moving through muscle, memory, and breath; a pressure change traveling through the years. When they move between English and Swedish, the song seems to cross not only languages, but states of being: from recollection into sensation, from pain into understanding, from the storm itself into the life that comes after it.
By the end, “AFTERWAVES” feels like an act of gentle illumination. Nordly aren’t offering answers, exactly – they’re giving shape to what so many people carry without naming. Tender, shimmering, and quietly transportive, it’s a song for anyone still learning how to live with the aftereffects, and still searching for light inside the waves.
:: “Cosmic Dancer” – St. Catherine’s Child ::
Chloe Robinson, California
Written by Marc Bolan, “Cosmic Dancer” appears on Electric Warrior (1971), a landmark album by glam rock band T. Rex. That piece is softer and more pensive then many of their other hits. The wistful track depicts someone dancing through life from birth to death. St. Catherine’s Child’s rendition of the classic showcases her stunning smoky tone atop gentle piano accompaniment, reimagining the track with a delicate, intimate atmosphere. Her interpretation leans into the song’s introspective nature, highlighting its quiet beauty while giving it a more modern, stripped-back vulnerability. The result feels both reverent and personal, as if she is smoothly reshaping the original without losing its emotional core.
Ilana Zsigmond is the brainchild behind St. Catherine’s Child, a profound project emerging within the indie folk and Americana space. Born in England and raised in New Haven, Connecticut, Zsigmond’s sound bridges two worlds, combining the narrative richness of Americana with the sharp wit characteristic of her British upbringing. Named for the patron saint of eloquent women, St. Catherine’s Child centers on her striking vocal presence and spellbinding songwriting. Her latest release is a double singles collection featuring not only “Cosmic Dancer” but also the famous Sinatra tune “Fly Me To The Moon.” Both are a wholly intoxicating listen.
:: “Motion” – Last Known Species ::
Mitch Mosk, Beacon, New York
Last Known Species’ “Motion” moves like a dream you aren’t sure belongs to you. The LA-based experimental alternative duo’s latest single is intimate and immersive, a dark, dreamy reverie wrapped in synthwave glow and indie pop seduction – music that seems to ripple around the body like heat rising off pavement.
Built on atmospheric electronic textures and a brooding, hypnotic pulse, “Motion” captures the magnetic pull of desire in real time. Its production is ethereal yet physical, all late-night haze and summery tension, folding over us in waves as the song’s central attraction becomes harder and harder to resist. “You always think of me at night / It’s getting late i’m on your mind,” they sing, letting the lyric hang like a secret passed between two bodies waiting to collide.
“Most of our music comes from feelings of nostalgia, love, and wanting to hold onto certain moments for longer than you really can,” the band share. “‘Motion’ was inspired by that overwhelming feeling of being pulled toward someone and getting lost in the energy of it. Once we added the arpeggiator and sped the tempo up, the song instantly clicked into place. It started to feel more alive and emotional, almost like a rush. We wanted it to feel intimate and euphoric, but also a little sad underneath, like looking back on a memory while you’re still living it.”
That ache underneath is what makes “Motion” linger. Last Known Species capture attraction not as a clean thrill, but as a force that bends time, blurs thought, and leaves us suspended between surrender and escape: “You know that your motion will keep me close / I tried to escape it, you keep me there.” It’s a song about being caught in someone’s orbit and knowing exactly how dangerous that can be – while still wanting, for one more breathless minute, to stay.
:: “please” – sadplanet ::
Mitch Mosk, Beacon, New York
Sadplanet’s “please” aches like sunlight hitting a bruise: Warm to the touch, dazzling from a distance, and more complicated the closer you get. The London shoegaze five-piece’s latest single arrives wrapped in ethereal dream-pop shimmer and glistening, reverb-drenched guitars, but beneath its radiant surface is the slow-motion collapse of a friendship that once felt euphoric enough to mistake for fate.
Kyra Ho’s enchanting voice hovers at the center of the storm, tender and dazed as guitars drone, roar, and bloom around her. “please” is seductive in the way only dangerous closeness can be – lush, intimate, and larger than life, its sweet melodies washed through a wall of sound that makes every feeling seem magnified. The song’s plea begins almost quietly, then becomes impossible to ignore: “Please please please / I lost you for a minute / Please please please / I add it to the list.” It’s not begging for love so much as begging for release.
“‘please’ is about the kind of friendship that feels perfect, until it isn’t,” the band explain. “It’s that slow realisation that all the red flags were there from the start, but you chose to ignore them because of how good it felt in the moment. There’s a real high in finding someone who just gets you, and the song lives in that rise and fall, ‘so far it’s up, so far to fall.’ It’s about the comedown from that intensity, and the mess that’s left when it all unravels.”
Ho’s own reflection deepens that tension between ecstasy and escape. She describes the track’s earliest demo as “so upbeat and seemed so happy and summery and kinda, sexy,” even as the lyrics were born from “a strained, intense friendship” that felt romantic, confusing, scary, and ultimately suffocating. That contradiction gives “please” its pulse: The song dances through discomfort, finding a dizzying high inside the desire to get out. Lines like “she said i can’t help it i just love / the way you crave the morning sun” and “but I don’t think you get me but at all / so far it’s up so far to fall” capture the strange hurt of being seen and unseen by the same person.
By the time “please” reaches its glowing outro – “We are so happy / We are so happy to be here” – sadplanet have turned emotional aftermath into catharsis. It sounds triumphant because distance can be its own kind of devotion: To yourself, to your future, to the version of your life waiting on the other side of an all-consuming bond.
“The outro was built from Jeff hearing a lead line that we then built the rest of the section around,” Ho explains. “It feels like such a joyous climax, and the last lines ‘we are so happy to be here’ came from just improvising in the room, but it makes so much sense – it sounds so simple, but, looking back on that friendship (now left way behind) all I can think is how happy I am to be here, now, further away.”
The second single from their forthcoming debut EP slowing down, “please” is dream pop at its most visceral and shoegaze at its most vulnerable – a towering, tender rush from a band already learning how to make unraveling feel transcendent.
:: MUSIC FOR ALL OCCASIONS – Elare André ::
Danielle Holian, Galway, Ireland
There’s an intentional unraveling at the heart of MUSIC FOR ALL OCCASIONS, the debut full-length project from Elare André. Compiled from songs initially released out of sequence across 2025 and 2026, the album now emerges in its intended form, not simply as a collection of tracks, but as a cohesive emotional narrative tracing intimacy, alienation, and overstimulation in the digital age. The record occupies a fluid space between alternative R&B, fractured electronic pop, ambient experimentation, and shadowy dance music. The production constantly shifts shape, sometimes sparse and intimate, sometimes chaotic and overwhelming. Tracks like “Tainted Disco” and “In the modern world” pulse with tension, blurring the line between catharsis and collapse.
What makes the album compelling is its emotional duality. André approaches modern culture with both critique and participation, examining attention economies, self-performance, and technological dependency from within the systems themselves. “iPhone on my mind” and “Swimming in AI” feel particularly resonant, capturing the exhaustion of existing in a hyperconnected world without retreating into cynicism. Yet amid the noise, moments of tenderness cut through with surprising force. “Baby, you should get in too” radiates warmth and devotion, while “Sometimes,” featuring Fruit Punch, explores queer intimacy with understated honesty. These songs ground the album emotionally, preventing its conceptual ambition from overwhelming its human core.
By the closing moments, MUSIC FOR ALL OCCASIONS reveals itself as an album deeply committed to contradiction. André embraces vulnerability without abandoning irony, creating a body of work that feels fragmented in structure but emotionally precise in execution. It’s an ambitious debut from an artist unafraid to leave imperfections visible.
:: Fractured Society EP – SAMOH ::
Ashley Littlefield, California
Acid, techno, and trance DJ and Dutch producer SAMOH, also known as Thomas Gruppen, rises from the dark, hypnotic, and dystopian sounds that shape the warehouse dance floor. His latest EP, Fractured Society, released on Charlotte de Witte’s KNTXT imprint, shows a new blend of his style. He guides sounds toward a unified personality and a journey to be embraced by rhythm. “I’m beyond excited for SAMOH’s second release on KNTXT this year,” says Charlotte de Witte. SAMOH brings a deliberate blend for an EP that marks his return. He shares his testament and voice through driving kick drums and shuffling hi-hats.
In his own words, “Fractured Society EP captures the consequences of a broken system. It is shaped by exclusion, injustice, and the constant fight for your place. This is translated into raw, driving grooves, darker acid lines, and dystopian atmospheres. Across the EP, each track delivers a different mood, from being lost and helpless to seeing the force that drives you!” Gruppen declares. Across the four tracks, SAMOH curates a sense of authority in “Fight For Your Right.” This saturated acid techno hitter proclaims to enjoy each moment as it arrives, whether it’s on the dance floor or getting lost in his sounds to start your day.
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