From the first nostalgic note in the debut single, Rise Again, from Tom Rogers, you will bask and revel in the Beatles and the Doors reminiscences and find something brand-new in Rogers’ reggae, blues, folk and psych amalgam.
While the groove-pocketed rhythms take a firm grip of your rhythmic pulses, the kaleidoscopic tones abstract you from the 21st century as the visceral with bluesy soul vocals light a fire under the vintage production.
With Pawala Ariyathilaka on lead guitar, Will Fraser on Drums, Dan Wakeling on bass, and Steve Burholt on keys, Tom Rogers and his backing band delivered a superlative slice of psychedelic blues rock reverence that will allow you to slip back in time and across the Atlantic. They didn’t reinvent the wheel with Rise Again, which carries a flood of second-coming redemption, but the way they gave you a ticket back to the 70s era of blues rock via a route never taken is something to celebrate. If you’ve got the Black Keys and The Black Rebel Motorcycle Club on your radar, you have room for Tom Rogers on your playlists.
Rise Again was officially released on August 4th; stream it on Spotify.
Christo Mondavi firmly implanted psychedelic soul back into rock n roll with his latest single, Daisy’s Gone Electric; the hazily lofty single brings brand-new and literal meaning to the concept of dancing on the ceiling.
With the colourful melodies and Mondavi’s honeyed harmonies resonating as though they have been pulled into this atmosphere from a far higher plateau, Daisy’s Gone Electric isn’t a single you can slip into; it is a single that instantaneously reverses the laws of gravity while paying homage to the tones popularised by The Doors and The Beatles.
For an extra lick of authenticity, there are also touches of Bowie to the spacey Odyssey-esque progressions and Zappa to the zanily pure vocal and lyrical presence, which proves Mondavi has a soul of solid 60s psych pop gold. Perfection may often be seen as an unattainable ideal, but if anyone can claim to sonically come close, it is Christo Mondavi.
Daisy’s Gone Electric is now available to stream on Spotify.
With subversive references to While My Guitar Gently Weeps in the lyrics and a touch of Neil Young to the lightly timbered sentimentality in the vocals, the standout single, The Final Hallelujah, from Number One Babe Team’s debut LP, See You Later, is a euphonic reverie of nostalgia, which more than has its place on contemporary airwaves.
As alluded to by the indie band’s moniker, Number One Babe Team doesn’t take itself too seriously, making their soundscapes, which also incorporate shoegaze-y guitars and touches of Elliott Smith in the songwriting, infinitely sweeter.
If Neutral Milk Hotel honeyed their soundscapes to the nth degree but still maintained the quaint humility, the result wouldn’t be too far removed from the sonic signature scribed by the Salt Lake City premier act, which has become an integral part of the touring circuit since their 2022 debut.
Stream the full LP, which hit the airwaves on June 9, via Spotify.
Proving that there are few things sweeter than sun-kissed optimism and soundscapes which kaleidoscopically pop with the raw energy of 70s rock and soul of 60s pop, James Sebastian put love in the air with his latest single, Life’s Tasting Good.
The wild with zeal vocal lines that will arrest you with the same cuffs of Robert Plant fused with psychedelic pop hues, which paint with the same tonal palette as The Beatles, this horn-infused rock revival revels in the future as rock as much as the past.
It isn’t the first time the UK-based singer-songwriter has appeared on our radar. We weren’t quick to forget his seminal hit, Love is Only Love; Life’s Tasting Good has just as much staying power from the first time it snakes between your synapses with the slickly sensational melodies. It’s far from your average archetypal summer single, but anyone with a soft spot for the eras rock n roll reigned supreme will undoubtedly want to make a staple of it.
Life’s Tasting Good was officially released on the second of June; hear it on Spotify.
It may have been almost two years since we heard Partisan Way, but there was no forgetting the artisanal sonic sugar that emanated from their blissfully affectionate indie-pop hit, Borrow Me.
In 2023, they’re back on the airwaves with their single I Know What You’ll Say, which starts in the middle ground of The Beatles and Elliott Smith before there is a smooth transition into a synth-kissed summer bop, which celebrates the agonising pain of pre-emptive anxiety before a romantic proclamation.
Ultimately, I Know What You’ll Say is a waltz-y indie psych-pop invitation to embrace the beauty of vulnerability. The entire single is a testament to that very beauty; hopeless romantics may even gain some hope by the time the big synth outro comes around, following the honeyed high vocal lines atop the pop instrumentals that meld classic and contemporary songwriting. Wayne Coyne himself couldn’t have hit those notes better.
Just when we thought we couldn’t have any more predilection towards the indie outfit fronted by Dan Tierney, I Know What You’ll Say, in all its polyphonic synthy glory, allowed our soft spot to become infinitely softer under the duress of the unassured soul in the vocals.
In his latest single, Tonight I’ll Be Staying Here with You, the Cypress, California-hailing folk-rock singer-songwriter, Jeff Livingstone, augmented Americana to pay an ode to quintessential country while giving the roots a kiss of life.
With the rapturous riffs and energy of All You Need is Love by the Beatles against the heart-on-sleeve influence from the icons Bob Dylan, Eric Clapton, and Jerry Garcia, Tonight I’ll Be Staying Here with You is a riot of twangy sentiment-heavy soul that won’t fail to pull you right into its visceral core. With vocal cords that connect with your heartstrings with every harmony, you’re damn right I shed a tear over this stellar feat of virtuosic songwriting.
I don’t whip out the V word for just anyone, but after bringing his extensive vocabulary in music theory and strong musical foundation together in a tapestry of ingenuity, I can’t think of many other contemporary artists worthy of that accolade.
Tonight I’ll Be Staying Here with You will officially release on April 28. Hear it on Spotify.
With Groovy Shirt Club on the scene, no one can claim ‘they don’t make ‘em like they used to’. Their latest single, Electric Flowers, chiselled a modern edge into a vintage sound, captured through a live euphonically melodic performance.
The vocals in Electric Flowers are enough to give you the Chris Isaak chills, and elements of the psych originators (the Beatles, obviously) can also be noted in the kaleidoscopic soul that spills across the entire sonic landscape that you will want to visit time and time again to affirm that rock n roll isn’t dead, it’s still alive and kicking on the underground. There’s also an undeniable touch of the college radio rock sound that R.E.M. defined with their creamy chords and ruggedly sugared harmonies.
Electric Flowers is available to Stream on Spotify.
Robert John Hanson’s song “Hopelessly Falling” is a breath-taking ballad that captures the essence of love and the emotional turmoil that comes with it. With an attractive acoustic guitar part, this song is an alt-folk tune that is reminiscent of a modernized Bob Dylan. Hanson’s soulful voice perfectly complements the melody, and his lyrics tug at the heartstrings.
Hanson’s background in music is evident in the way he skilfully blends different genres, as seen in his eclectic album, The Bitter Suite. His love for British music shines through in his songwriting, reflecting the influence of his favourite artists such as The Beatles, Bowie, Queen, Pink Floyd, and The Kinks.
Listening to “Hopelessly Falling” is an immersive experience that takes the listener on a journey of emotions. The lyrics are both poignant and relatable, and Hanson’s delivery is heartfelt and genuine. The song’s structure and dynamics add to its beauty, building up to a powerful crescendo that leaves a lasting impact on the listener.
Overall, Robert John Hanson’s “Hopelessly Falling” is a testament to his artistry and songwriting skills. His ability to craft a song that speaks to the human experience is truly remarkable. Fans of folk, pop, and rock will appreciate his unique sound and style, and this song is a must-listen for anyone who appreciates great music. Hanson’s album, The Bitter Suite, is a must-have for those who appreciate the depth and edge of love and loss, and the elusive search for a happy ending.
After sitting down with the soulfully real Brooklyn creative Maria Lane recently, our hearts were calmed by such a genuine human. Telling us more about how she got into music, her inspirations and we found out more about her new single which drops on the 7th of April, Nashville.
Thank you for sitting down with us Maria Lane. Where in the world are you today and what inspires you in life?
Maria: Happy to be here, thank you for having me. I am in Brooklyn, NY. What inspires me is experiencing different things in life, achieving my goals, and overcoming challenges.
How did you get started in the music game and what do you love about the creation process?
Maria: I’ve been singing and writing songs since I was little. I always knew it was where I felt the most like myself and I felt writing was a really good way to process my thoughts and feelings.
I love the feeling when you first finish writing a song, and then you get to take it to the studio and add the production process on top of it. My songs are so personal to me so getting to add the production to match the story and lyrics is really special to me.
Please tell us more about your new single Nashville and the lyrics behind this personal song?
Maria: I started writing “nashville” last year. My oldest sister knew in 2023 she would officially be moving out of NYC and writing this song felt like closure for me to accept that she is really leaving. My sister was my first roommate when I moved to NYC, I had my first legal drink with her when I turned 21 and hated it, she recently got engaged last year and a wedding is now on the horizon. These lyrics remind me of reminiscing on our time together in NYC. My favorite lyrics in the song are “and suddenly it’s silent, left with your bags and an empty apartment” because it’s like shit.. she’s really gone now.
Who did you grow up listening to and what was the last performance you saw live?
Maria: I grew up listening to The Beatles, Billy Joel, Miley Cyrus/Hannah Montana, Ingrid Michaelson, Sara Bareilles, Avril Lavigne, Britney Spears, Demi Lovato, James Taylor, Regina Spektor, Paramore, lots of Broadway Cast Recordings, and a lot of Alt Rock bands. I discovered I enjoyed a variety of genres, which I think have influenced me today. The last concert I went to was Lizzy McAlpine who has become one of my favorite artists.
Who has helped you in your career the most so far?
Maria: Anyone who has ever believed in me and continued to encourage me. My producer Julian has really helped me grow as an artist and discover my sound, so I’m really grateful I get to create with him.
When you close your eyes for a few moments and visualize your ideal place in the world, where is it and who do you see with you?
Maria: In terms of outside my current reality, the ideal place in the world for me would be to be performing on Broadway, with my friends and family supporting me in the audience. It’s a dream I’ve had since I was 7 years old and I get lost daydreaming about it pretty often.
Last, what’s the best piece of advice you’ve ever heard?
Maria: Know what YOU have to offer is special and there is a place for you. It’s easy to compare yourself to others because people are similar in so many ways but there is no one like you. Whether or not you sound or look like somebody else, you are your own authentic self. Also manifest and be delusional, I’ve heard that works wonders haha.
When history leaves no room for modernity; when nostalgia is a greater incentive to engage with ‘culture’ than contemporary innovation; when legacy pedestals went out of production in the 90s, what hope is left in the music industry?
The post-pandemic era of music is becoming increasingly alien to what we have known before. It is not technology adding tentacle-ESQUE appendages to the industry. For the past 50 years, the rapid rate of technological progress has been integral to the way music has embedded into our daily lives. Industry oligarchs relentlessly pushed for progression to increase profit margins with every artist gambled on. Now that digital streaming services have reached the pinnacle of music consumption convenience, there is little to anticipate. Sans Musk embedding Neuralink chips in our skulls, and we can stream music directly into our brains.
We can point the finger at the culture of streaming platforms until Rigor mortis sets in, ignoring the three fingers pointing back at ourselves with our strange transfixion on the past that dictates modern-day legacies do not last.
The unattainability of legacy especially rings true within the confines of indie, rock, and alternative music. The alluring sentimentality of nostalgia and reminiscence is the real reason why fame is fleeting; success is slender in supply and why music fans are now eulogising their only music icons on Facebook every five minutes.
Even if an independent artist hits number one in the official music charts in 2023, it means almost nothing in terms of standing in the industry. It is only a matter of time before they downrank under the perpetual dominance of Nirvana,Nickelback, and Pink Floyd.
To go full circle on how streaming has affected the music industry, the contemporary irrelevance of official music charts has even started to change how albums hit the market. Why bow to the pressure of raw sales when streaming is king? And in the words of Post Malone, why compromise the artistic and authentic integrity of a record to ensure an arbitrary number that is no longer of any consequence is reached?
The Fame-Talent Dichotomy
As someone who has spent the past six years in the music industry listening to new artists, I find it impossible to subscribe to the theory that the fixtures in the rock n roll hall of fame are portraits that contemporary artists cannot hold a candle to.
The painful awareness of the off-kilter correspondence between fame and talent is something the average music consumer will never see. If they did, they would be infinitely more open to the suggestion that living and breathing artists who aren’t inches from being six feet under are as capable of ground-breaking music as the artists made divine in their blind eyes.
The addiction to the bittersweetness of sonic nostalgia is undoubtedly a stark sign of where our collective psyche stands at this strangely sour point in history. Yet, if we continuously ignore the irony between the statements that “they don’t make ‘em like they used to” and the complete unwillingness to listen to what they ARE making, we are setting a generation of artists up to fail. Not that it is surprising people of a certain age are somewhat ambivalent about that. Given what they have done to the rest of society and the economy.
While there are sniffings of viral TikTok fame for some contemporary artists, one-hit-wonders can only get with their passive fans in their unsustainable careers. As a new generation comes of age, they are shown that history is required for legacy – unless you’re lucky enough to get the jump up from nepotism or selected as a media plant.
Music as a Mausoleum: A Tale of Two Cities
As a Manchester-based music journalist, I’m no stranger to music cultures led by ancient tastemakers and epitomised by records that have been collecting dust since the 80s. I’ve long since accepted that my words, no matter how sharp, will never be as cutting as the people twice my age who can say they were in all of the right places long before I was cerebral enough to string a sentence together. But this isn’t about me. It is about the absolute exception to George Santayana’s rule of; “Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it”.
Making my first trip to one of Liverpool’s most iconic music venues, The Cavern Club, showed me just how insidious the fetishization and fixation of legacy truly is. Tawdry statues of the Beatles scaled the walls with endless ephemera as a reminder that they were once here. Like graffiti on a dirty public toilet door, they were stamped in history. Tacky memorabillia enshrined behind glass tempted tanked-up tourists to grab a kitsch piece of history and ignore the glaring commodification of culture that reminds every artist that steps foot into that venue that their legacy will always be less-than.
While there should always be room to rhapsodize artists that were integral to the inspiration of many, became the soundtrack to many lives and earned themselves a place in history, there should still be enough room for fresh talent to breathe.
Yet, there is little oxygen left for new and emerging artists to share. Creative sparks diminish as soon as they are lit in our suffocating atmosphere where cover bands get all the cash and artists with any modicum of distinction about them are chastised for sticking out from the mould.
Mindless connections with music and music culture are infinitely more dangerous than the perils of Spotify and Ek’s ilk. You can’t keep your head in the sentimental sand for decades, pop back up for daylight and bemoan the changing technological tides that have removed gatekeepers for many, and provided the platforms for even more.
