Hall of Ukrainian Rock’n’Roll
In our traditional support of the Ukrainian rock scene, we would like to offer you a story about a remarkable event that took place in western Ukraine in the small town of Manevychi. Every year, at the end of May, all the world's museums hold a night at the museum, and such a night took place in Manevychi, where at the same time the soft opening of the first hall of the future Rock Capital museum took place. The hall is called The History of Ukrainian Rock and Roll and is the first of seven planned halls of the Rock Capital Museum. Perhaps it would not have been so attractive if the Rock Capital Museum had not truly been the first rock museum in Ukraine.
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.
Teanko – We still believe the voice
Listen first, ask questions after. That's the dare TEANKO throws down with this single, and it's a dare that pays off handsomely. The premise sounds like the stuff of think-pieces rather than tunes: three decades of vocal recordings distilled into an AI model trained on nobody but the man himself, then folded back into a song about whether a voice can still land a gut-punch when machinery sits somewhere in the chain. It could have been a gimmick, a curiosity to be filed under "interesting but forgettable." Instead, TEANKO has built a record that earns its keep on melody and feel long before you start unpacking the concept behind it.
Chris G – Started Like That
Every so often a record turns up that has no business sounding as assured as it does, given the circumstances of its making, and "Started Like That" is exactly that kind of pleasant ambush. Chris G, who spends his daylight hours on a construction site in Lago Vista, Texas, and his evenings hunched over a mixing desk in a home studio, has produced a single that would embarrass plenty of artists with proper budgets and proper studios behind them.
Remik Erikson – Nacho
Every so often a record arrives that refuses to apologise for itself, and Remik Erikson's "Nacho" struts through the door with the confidence of a man who has found his muse standing at the stove, tortilla chips scattered like confetti at a wedding he can't stop writing about. This is a songwriter who began, by his own account, penning verses for his own nuptials, and that origin story matters here: "Nacho" is not a novelty single dressed up as romance, it is a love song that has simply found a more honest vocabulary than roses and moonlight.
Ian Roland – Boxing Gloves
There's a particular kind of English songwriting that doesn't shout for your attention so much as quietly insist on it — the kind that trades in the ache of ordinary lives rendered extraordinary through careful, unshowy craft. Ian Roland's new single, "Boxing Gloves," belongs firmly in that tradition, and it lands its punches with the precision of someone who has clearly spent years learning exactly where to aim.
Hollywand – White Magic
Ten years is a long time to sit with eight songs. Long enough for a record to calcify into pastiche, or, if the maker is patient and unshowy about it, long enough for something genuinely lived-in to emerge. HOLLYWAND's debut, White Magic, belongs firmly to the second category — a record that wears its decade of gestation not as a gimmick but as texture, the way a well-loved leather jacket wears its creases.
Lomens – Surely Not?
Leeds has a habit of producing bands who sound like they've spent a winter arguing about genre and lost, gloriously, on every front. Lomens are the latest case for the prosecution. Five old friends — Christopher Parker on vocals, Jordan McNamara on drums, Jason Glazebrook and Joshua Stevens trading guitar and bass duties, Thomas Nicholson filling the gaps with synth and percussion — have spent the past year building a debut EP that refuses to sit still, and "Surely Not?" is the moment that refusal pays off.
The Black Plague Doctors – DYNAMITE! (Audio Cinema)
There's a particular species of British music writing — the kind that used to fill the back pages of the *NME* in ink-stained fury — that reserves its highest praise for records that refuse to behave. *DYNAMITE! (Audio Cinema)*, the latest and most audacious outing from Atlanta's Jo-Fi and St. Gabe, operating under the deliciously ominous banner of The Black Plague Doctors, is exactly that sort of record: unruly, unwashed in the best possible sense, and gloriously indifferent to the sterile perfectionism that has calcified so much contemporary production.
Motihari Brigade – Problematic
Eric Winston has never been a man content to let a guitar simply ring out when it could instead interrogate you, and on *Problematic*, his band's third long-player, he sends his Stratocaster off to do exactly that — pacing the room, demanding to see your papers, asking whether you've really thought this through or merely absorbed the thinking of others. It is a record that wears its intellectual scaffolding (Orwell, Huxley, a dash of Socratic heckling) lightly enough that you can headbang first and footnote later, which is precisely the trick the best protest music has always pulled off.
Lil’ Mike – Shuryo
Goldtown is not, on the face of it, a breeding ground for demon hunters. But that is precisely the mythology Lil' Mike has built for himself on "Shuryo," the lead statement from his "HotDamn" EP, and by the second verse you believe every word of it.
The Snow Ponies – Oh My God
Phil Dean has spent three decades learning how to disappear inside a song, and on "Oh My God" he finally puts that skill to proper use. This is the fourth single lifted from a forthcoming album, and it arrives glittering with mirrorball confidence, a record that treats disco not as pastiche but as a language for saying something tender out loud.
Kiey – phan thiet
Grief has always made for peculiar pop music. It arrives sideways, dressed up as nostalgia or seaside reverie, and it takes a canny songwriter to smuggle real devastation past the listener's guard. Kiey manages exactly that with "phan thiet," a single so gently disarming you barely notice it's broken your heart until the final chorus has already done the damage.
Rorksha – Récif
French solo outfit Rorksha has fashioned something genuinely arresting with "Récif," a single that understands the value of patience before it lets rip. The title translates to "reef," and the song earns that image with unusual honesty: it doesn't arrive as a wall of noise but as a whisper that slowly gathers weight, guitar and voice circling each other with the wariness of two people testing whether trust is worth the risk.