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.
EGGER – I Breathe
**The quietest records are often the loudest arguments.** EGGER's third single arrives not with the chest-thumping bravado of an artist demanding your attention, but with the unhurried confidence of someone who already knows you'll lean in. And lean in you will.
Casey X. Waits – inside this song
Casey X. Waits arrives on *Inside This Song* with the unhurried confidence of someone who has earned every syllable the hard way — not through industry machinery or algorithm-chasing, but through the slow, unglamorous labour of surviving himself. The son of Tom Waits carries none of his father's theatrical grotesquerie here, and wisely so. Where the elder Waits built cathedrals out of cigarette smoke and carnival wreckage, Casey builds something quieter and, arguably, more dangerous: a room with nowhere to hide.
Ricky Earlywine – sovereignty
Lacey, Washington is not a city that appears on the mental maps of most music industry cartographers. It sits quietly in the Pacific Northwest, neither the bohemian crucible of Seattle nor the sun-bleached mythology of Los Angeles. And yet, from a bedroom in this unremarkable corner of America, Ricky Earlywine has constructed something that demands the kind of attention usually reserved for artists with major label machinery humming behind them. *Sovereignty* is, to put it plainly, an audacious piece of work — and audacity, when it is earned rather than performed, is the rarest currency in modern pop.
KHROTO – RAIN
There are songs that announce themselves, demanding attention through sheer force of noise and ambition. And then there are songs like Rain — the quietly devastating new single from Japanese artist KHROTO — that slip under your skin like cold water seeping through a coat, noticed only when it is far too late to do anything about it.
Klas Jonsson – Versions
Klas Jonsson does not come to you. This is perhaps the first thing worth understanding about the Malmö-adjacent musician who has spent the better part of two years releasing music with the unhurried confidence of someone who has already made peace with the fact that the algorithm will not save him. *Versions*, his new EP and first release of 2026, is a collection of four remixed tracks pulled from his existing catalogue — a document less of reinvention than of revelation, the kind of record that turns a light on in a room you thought you already knew.
Tonje Gravningsmyhr – Maze
Norway has always kept its own counsel. While the rest of the continent chases trends with the desperate energy of a dog after a bus it has no intention of boarding, Scandinavia tends to arrive quietly, set something extraordinary down on the table, and wait. Tonje Gravningsmyhr — musician, songwriter, classical trumpeter turned pop architect from Moss — does precisely this with *Maze*, the title single from her second album.
Judith Owen – Suit Yourself
The Welsh have always had a gift for the voice — it runs through them like coal seams through the valleys — but rarely does it arrive packaged quite like Judith Owen. Her fifth studio outing, recorded at New Orleans' Esplanade Studios and released through her own Twanky Records, is not merely an album. It is a reckoning. A gorgeous, swaggering declaration of musical selfhood from an artist who has spent the better part of two decades perfecting the alchemy of jazz, blues, and something altogether more difficult to name: pure, unguarded feeling.
Buildings and Food – Yutori
Patience is a political act. To sit still, to breathe, to resist the compulsion to fill every available second with productivity or noise — this is, depending on your disposition, either a profound spiritual discipline or a luxury most of us cannot afford. Jen K. Wilson, the Toronto-based artist and classically trained pianist who records as Buildings and Food, has built an entire album around this tension. *Yutori* — the Japanese philosophy of consciously cultivating spaciousness, of slowing down so that life might actually be lived — is not merely a concept record. It is a lesson administered gently, over eight tracks, with the patience of someone who has genuinely learned the thing they are teaching.
Nemesis Uncle – The Sword
Darren Purvis has built himself a bunker. Not metaphorically — literally. Somewhere in the Forest of Dean, one of England's oldest and most peculiarly atmospheric woodlands, a man has locked himself away with his instruments, his tea, his cake, and his obsessions, and has emerged with something that sounds like it was recorded at the precise moment the ancient oaks outside decided to lean in and listen.
Ron Morven – Paper Sun
Ron Morven arrives with little fanfare and considerable nerve. *Paper Sun*, his debut single, does not ease you in. It drops you, blinking, onto a Los Angeles freeway at the precise moment the heat becomes something more than weather — when the asphalt stops being infrastructure and starts being a psychological condition. That is a bold gambit for any debut, let alone one aimed squarely at dance floors and streaming playlists. Morven pulls it off with the confidence of someone who has been writing long enough to know that the gap between a mood and a song is smaller than most producers are willing to admit.
Agnes Fred – After Death
**There is a particular kind of silence that certain records understand better than words ever could. Agnes Fred's debut single inhabits that silence completely.**
Vela Jones – Static Air
Vela Jones arrives with the quiet confidence of someone who has already decided, long before anyone else caught on, exactly what kind of artist she intends to be. The cover art for *Static Air* tells you nearly everything you need to know before a single note sounds: a young woman, robed in flowing white lace, festooned with silver stars, boots planted firmly on a stage floor that glistens with fairy lights, holding an acoustic guitar decorated like a celestial map. She has named her artistic persona "space hippy," and the phrase is not merely decorative. It is a manifesto compressed into two words.