Do you know at least one Ukrainian punk rock band?
Do you know at least one Ukrainian punk rock band? Of course, no one asked me such a question, but I sometimes ask it to my friends. Talking about the glorious traditions of Ukrainian rock n roll, I don't want to miss punk itself. The first thing that comes to my mind is the band Borshch. Some people will say it's not punk rock, and maybe they're right. But musically and lyrically, Borshch has a spark that only lives in this style.
David Bowie’s first address
It remains interesting that even such alien rock stars as David Bowie had his parental home on our unfortunate planet. The future star lived the first 6 years of his life in 40 Stansfield Road, Brixton, London.
Formation of the Ukrainian rock n roll scene
2022 has become too difficult for one of the largest countries in Europe. It is about Ukraine and its heroic people. The passing year has brought devastation and tears, pain and suffering to the country. In its fight against the invaders, Ukraine is choosing its freedom and the right to a democratic future. Today we wanted to remember the glorious past of this musical nation and especially, we are interested in the development of the rock scene in Ukraine, in a country with its ancient roots and culture. How it was and how it was born.
The story of one music video
One November morning, I went to the antique shop 'LOT ONE TEN'. I loved taking a walk in autumn London after a snack at McDonald's and a large serving of black coffee. I felt in good spirits and even the gray rain could not interfere with my daily ritual, so Walthamstow greeted me with genuine indifference, as if inviting me to take a walk on the favorite street of the designer William Morris, whose mansion-museum was around the corner.
Kamila Csenge – Against the Wall
There are moments in music when a single note — or rather, the deliberate withholding of one — says more than a hundred bars of frenzied activity ever could. Kamila Csenge understands this. The Czech guitarist and composer, who has quietly been sharpening her craft across stages from New York's ShapeShifter Lab to the Prague Congress Center, arrives with her debut single "Against the Wall" not as an artist announcing herself in the usual blaze of self-promotional noise, but as one who simply sits down, picks up her guitar, and plays with the quiet authority of someone who has earned every single second of your attention.
SEBASTIAN RYDGREN – Talk To Me
The Swedes have long understood something that the rest of pop music keeps needing to relearn: that the most devastating emotional territory lies not in the aftermath of love's collapse, but in that suspended, agonising instant before the verdict arrives. ABBA built an empire on it. Robyn made it her church. And now Sebastian Rydgren — twenty-two years old, raised in the Stockholm suburbs, forged in the furnace of television talent competitions — steps forward with "Talk To Me," a single that plants its flag firmly in that trembling no-man's-land between everything and nothing.
Grim Logick – The Maelstrom
Let us begin not with the music, but with the room. A living room in Louisiana. A collapsible boom arm clamped to a coffee table. An AKG C214 condenser microphone feeding into a PreSonus interface, monitored through headphones that probably cost less than a night out in Shoreditch. No acoustic treatment. No studio baffling. No engineer turning dials behind glass with the serene authority of a man who has never missed a rent payment. Just Dameon Wilson — known to the world as Grim Logick — pressing record, and then saying things that most people spend their entire lives carefully avoiding.
HJ Soul – Unbreakable
The British soul landscape has always possessed a peculiar gift for wringing transcendence from the mundane — think of Sam Cooke refracted through a Birmingham fog, or Sade finding the divine in a dimly lit corner booth. HJ Soul, with his debut single Unbreakable, does not merely gesture toward that tradition. He plants a flag in it.
V.E.N! – Virtual Emotions Network
**From a Sevillian power-pop trio to eighteen records of fearless independence — the long, extraordinary journey of Edu Campoy Molinero** Every serious musical project has a prehistory, and the prehistory of V.E.N! is itself a story worth telling. Before the Bandcamp page, before the collages, before the Virtual Emotions Network began transmitting, there was Club Radar: a Sevillian power-pop trio of the Nineties, led by a young guitarist and singer named Edu Campoy Molinero, whose live sets were built on direct melodic pop and garage guitars, soaked in Sixties roots and played with the kind of physical urgency that the decade demanded. Club Radar dissolved at the century's end, and Campoy turned, for a number of years, to another kind of work entirely. He ran a bookshop — Novalis, named presumably after the German Romantic poet who wrote about the blue flower of infinite longing, a detail that tells you rather a lot about Campoy's inner landscape. The shop consumed his days but, as it turned out, it also quietly funded his future: the proceeds went toward a home recording studio, and the hours spent among books and publishers left a permanent mark on the density and literary ambition of the lyrics he would eventually write.
The Black Plague Doctors – EFF.SEE.DEE.IYEE
There is a particular kind of artistic courage that announces itself not through bombast or polished grandeur, but through deliberate, almost confrontational *refusal*. The Black Plague Doctors — Atlanta's Jo-Fi and St. Gabe, operating here under the shadow of their experimental alter-ego ZIllA — have made a record that refuses quite a lot. It refuses tidy production. It refuses the safety net of a DAW. It refuses, most thrillingly of all, the creeping tyranny of perfection that has rendered so much contemporary hip-hop sonically immaculate and spiritually inert.
Reetoxa – Soliloquy
"A double album born from lockdown, obsession, and hospitalisation — Melbourne's finest hour arrives battered, brilliant, and utterly uncompromising." Nobody sets out to make a great album by halving their sleep, surviving on cigarettes and coffee, and driving themselves to a six-week hospital stay. And yet here we are. Soliloquy, the long-gestating double album from Melbourne's Reetoxa, is precisely the kind of record that could only have been wrested from genuine extremity — a work that carries the unmistakable scent of a man who went all the way to the edge and, rather than turning back, took notes.
Layla Kaylif – CALL OF THE YONI
Let us dispense with the obvious pleasantry of saying Layla Kaylif has arrived. She arrived some time ago — a BBC Radio Record of the Week, a Top-10 across Southeast Asia, a screenplay honoured at Dubai's International Film Festival, a Bowie cover that made grown critics sit up and reconsider their assumptions. What Kaylif has done with *Call of the Yoni* is something altogether more consequential than arriving. She has *claimed territory*.
Tabitha Zu – On Reality
Thirty-three years is a long time to wait for a song to find its proper audience. Yet here we are, April 2026, and "On Reality" — Tabitha Zu's second single, first pressed onto 12-inch vinyl in a run so limited it may as well have been distributed by hand — arrives on streaming platforms with the force of something that has been coiled and patient, biding its time. The shock is not that it sounds fresh. The shock is that it sounds necessary.
Midnite Radio – Fear No Stars
**Nashville's newest theatrical rock outfit arrive with a single that refuses to whisper when it can roar — and a music video to match.** Rock music, at its most vital, has always been a conversation between the intimate and the colossal. The trick — the one that separates the truly remarkable from the merely competent — is knowing precisely when to lean into each. Midnite Radio, a five-piece assembled across the geography of Tennessee and Los Angeles, seem to have cracked that particular code with unsettling confidence on their debut single, "Fear No Stars."
Brooklynzhen – Light of the Dead
Glasgow has always known how to grieve beautifully. From the post-rock cathedrals Mogwai built out of feedback and silence, to the city's long lineage of artists who treat melancholy not as affliction but as raw material — the place has a gift for transmuting darkness into something luminous and necessary. Allan McCafferty, recording under the alias Brooklynzhen, is the latest to drink from that particular well, and "Light of the Dead" announces, with considerable authority, that he has something genuinely urgent to say.
Digging for Kanky – Wide Open
*You don't have to sell your soul all at once. Sometimes you just open your hands and let it go.* Manchester has always understood the transaction. This is, after all, the city that gave us the Haçienda — a nightclub that burned money like a sacrament until the money ran out — and Factory Records, an operation so committed to its own mythology that it filed its catalogue numbers as if the universe itself needed organising. The city knows about deals. It knows about the cost of ambition, the particular flavour of compromise that tastes almost, but not quite, like success. Digging for Kanky, returning with their third single from the forthcoming *Raining Stones*, seem to know it too.