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.
Matt Johnson – Mother’s Day Proverb
The quiet audacity of Matt Johnson's "Mother's Day Proverb" is that it doesn't flinch from its own seriousness. Twelve minutes is a long time to hold a listener. Twelve minutes of a man alone at a piano, narrating scripture, trusting the ancient poetry of Proverbs 31 to do the heavy lifting—this is either an act of profound artistic conviction or magnificent folly. Johnson, it turns out, is navigating very deliberately between the two, and the resulting track is richer for it.
m0n0 jay – L.L.L. (ATH remix)
Stockholm has form for this kind of artistic violence — the quiet, deliberate dismantling of something cheerful into something that makes your ribcage feel like a reverb chamber. m0n0 jay's original "L.L.L." was a genuinely infectious piece of alt-pop maximalism, all fuchsia neon and barbell-swinging bravado, the kind of debut that generates two million views and a cult of retention obsessives who play a three-minute track on loop until the algorithm weeps. It was a statement. The ATH Remix is its interrogation.
The Lazz – The Resonance
**Ben Lazzaro has spent four decades sharpening a blade. "The Resonance" is the moment he finally draws it.** Metal, as a genre, has always been more philosophically ambitious than its detractors care to admit. From Black Sabbath's occult dread to Tool's Jungian excavations, the music has consistently attracted minds that refuse to stay on the surface. Ben Lazzaro — the veteran Californian composer operating under the banner of The Lazz — understands this lineage bone-deep. What he has built with "The Resonance" is not simply a song. It is an argument: that forty years of waiting can produce something more vital, more honest, and more ferociously alive than the industry's endless conveyor belt of youth-marketed urgency ever could.
Ava Valianti – The Conversation
Some records announce themselves with the swagger of someone who already knows they've won. Others slip quietly through the door, sit down beside you on the sofa, and say something so precise and so unsettling that you find yourself replaying the moment long after the room has gone dark. "The Conversation" — both the artist and the song — belongs emphatically, thrillingly, to the second category.
Tamer Sağcan – Home: Universes
The cosmological ambition announced by this album's title is not mere affectation. Tamer Sağcan, the Ankara-based composer, guitarist, and novelist, has named all thirteen of his new compositions after concepts drawn from the physics of creation — and he means it. *Home: Universes* is not an album that uses space as wallpaper. It is an album that actually attempts to hear it.
Luxury Fruit – In Case You Didn’t Feel Like Selling Out
The title alone is a manifesto. A middle finger extended not with rage but with the quiet, devastating confidence of people who have absolutely nothing to prove and know it. Luxury Fruit — the Knoxville trio of Brett Cassidy, Jeff Caudill, and Gray Comer, veterans of the fondly remembered Westside Daredevils — have delivered their third four-song EP with the unhurried ease of craftsmen who learned long ago that the best work happens when you stop caring what the room thinks.
dredge – doomed from the start
**Somewhere between Birmingham and the earth's lower crust, two people have figured something out.** The history of rock and roll is, when you strip away the mythology and the merchandise, a history of reduction. Take away what isn't needed until only the essential remains — the nerve ending, the blunt instrument, the thing that makes the neighbours complain. The Velvet Underground knew it. The White Stripes knew it. And now, lurking in a garage somewhere in the West Midlands with nothing more than drums, a Bass VI and two voices that sound like they've been gargling gravel soaked in righteous fury, dredge — lower case, thank you — know it too.
Wes Carroll Confabulation – The Capitalocene EP
Wes Carroll has the audacity to name his EP after a geological epoch that hasn't quite happened yet — or rather, one that is happening right now, all around us, in the receipts and the algorithms and the quiet despair of the checkout queue. It's a bold conceptual gambit, the sort of thing that could easily collapse under its own self-importance. That it doesn't is down to the fact that Carroll and his Confabulation are, first and foremost, musicians of considerable craft, and only second — a very close second, mind — are they polemicists.
Filip Dahl – Flying High
Some guitarists announce themselves with a riff. Others do it with a scream — six strings bent to breaking point, volume weaponised, subtlety be damned. Filip Dahl does neither. The Norwegian composer and multi-instrumentalist announces himself, on his latest single "Flying High," with something considerably rarer and considerably more difficult to manufacture: *authority*. From the opening bars, this is a man who has absolutely nothing to prove, and that certainty — worn as lightly as a well-broken-in leather jacket — is precisely what makes the record so arresting.
Christopher Peacock – Only The Good Die Young
Grief, as any honest songwriter will tell you, is the great democratiser. It arrives uninvited, it does not negotiate, and it cares nothing for your artistic pretensions or your release schedule. The question that separates the merely competent from the genuinely affecting is not whether an artist can feel it — everyone can — but whether they can translate that feeling into something that resonates beyond their own living room walls. Christopher Peacock, the one-man independent operation behind "Only The Good Die Young," appears to understand this distinction with uncommon clarity.
Lucian Lacewing – Land Of Enchantment
**A bedroom conjurer from Bristol sends eight voices into the void, and the void hums back.** Released quietly on a Thursday in late March, with no fanfare and no live show to follow — Lucian Lacewing does not perform, a position he holds with the sort of principled stubbornness once championed by Brian Eno, his acknowledged patron saint — *Land Of Enchantment* is the kind of record that rewards the patient and baffles the impatient. It is ambient music with a gothic pulse, drone music that refuses to lie down quietly, and a debut single that announces its maker as someone far more interested in the texture of sound than in its conventional arrangement.
Ouroboric – Sin Eater
There is a particular kind of courage required to make music about guilt — not the performative, chest-beating guilt of a thousand confessional singer-songwriters, but the quieter, more corrosive variety: the guilt of someone who watched a relationship curdle slowly, said nothing, and eventually met a version of themselves they no longer recognised. Ouroboric, the Adelaide-based alternative project built around the dual vocal axis of Phil Crowley and Stace, have made precisely that music with "Sin Eater," and the effect is genuinely unsettling in the way that the best alternative rock always should be.