The Sydney duo’s debut album treats the after-hours city like an old carnival rule, a place where the name can wait outside.
Menu
The Sydney duo’s debut album treats the after-hours city like an old carnival rule, a place where the name can wait outside.
The Moline four-piece put a locked bass-and-drum pulse under a night drive that keeps circling the same question. Who you are. Who you were. What the radio still holds when the car goes back.
Summerhouse is the project of Conall Hill. After years in East London indie rooms, he arrives with a four-track debut that treats a flinch as a full night. The Pull Away, featuring blackbird, follows heat, relapse, and the morning that will not stay finished.
A server room, a painted cell, and a laptop taken apart by hand. You’re Not So Human is Craigycraig of Fatewell asking a fluent machine the one question it still fails.
The New Citizen Kane has spent a decade treating pop as a room you walk into, not a file you stream. Behind the name is Kane Luke, a Dublin-trained theatre artist and producer who moved through New York and Milan before settling the project in London under his own Citizen Records. The early club years …
From a home studio on a California Delta island, the songwriter turns a private thank you into short, luminous synth-pop.
On Lovelight, Jessie Altman treats love as a light you can locate in the eyes, then spends twelve songs deciding which lamp stays on.
A Santa Monica singer who took an Air Force oath and a Berkeley seminar in the same season builds his debut around the moment a landing is refused.
Novaix Entertainment’s first artist is a disclosed AI performer. The debut EP Close lets a generated voice carry human writing about a grip that will not loosen, and a door that finishes the job alone.
On their third album, Reaven treat freedom as something that only shows once the wall has been opened. The dark stays in the picture.
