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.
PUNTACAVA – Nylon Crush (Fuori Quadro Sessions)
Milan's CARTONGETZ has chosen a fine moment to launch its "Fuori Quadro Sessions" imprint, and "Nylon Crush" announces the project with the kind of unshowy confidence that separates real bands from the merely competent. This is a trio operating without a safety net — no overdubs, no studio sleight of hand, just three musicians in a room deciding, in real time, whether to whisper or detonate.
Anton Donovan – No More Tears
Occasionally a cover version arrives that refuses to behave itself, and Anton Donovan's reworking of Ozzy Osbourne's "No More Tears" is exactly that kind of insubordinate object. Where the original careened on Zakk Wylde's serrated riffs and Ozzy's own theatrical menace, Donovan strips the carcass bare and rebuilds it as something closer to a cabaret séance — part Weimar nightclub, part Vegas lounge gone slightly to seed, all of it lit by a single flickering spotlight.
Mark Moule – Diamonds And Gold
Every so often a record turns up that refuses to be tidied into a press release. "Diamonds And Gold" is one of those. It arrives from Busselton, a stretch of Western Australian coastline better known for whale-watching than songwriting, and it carries the unmistakable dust of somewhere far less picturesque: a gold mine, where Mark Moule apparently spent his days hauling rock and, evidently, storing up verses.
JK Jerome – I Just Want to Soar
Pop songs about ambition tend to arrive in one of two flavours: triumphant fist-pumping or cynical deflation. JK Jerome, on his gleaming new single, refuses both, and the refusal is what makes the record sing.
Mickey P – Good Love
East London has always kept its own time signature — somewhere between the last night bus and the first shift at the market — and Mickey P understands this rhythm in his bones. "Good Love," his five-track offering, doesn't so much announce itself as slide onto the dancefloor already mid-groove, sunglasses on, unbothered.
Faris Ishaq – JASAD جَسَد
Few instruments carry as much unspoken history as the nay. Reed cane, no mouthpiece, no keys — nothing between the player and the note but breath and intention. On *JASAD* (Arabic for "Body"), Bethlehem-born virtuoso Faris Ishaq turns that austerity into a manifesto, and the result is one of the most quietly commanding solo instrumental records to emerge from the Levant in years.
Paweł J.P. Hirlok – Perły
Some records announce themselves with a knock at the door. *Perły* arrives instead through the window, cape billowing, orchestra in tow, demanding you rearrange the furniture of your afternoon. Paweł J.P. Hirlok's twelfth album is a lavish, unrepentant thing — twelve tracks that treat restraint as an option to be politely declined.
melliejellie – all about u
There's a particular kind of nerve required to make a record that sounds this nostalgic without ever once sounding lazy about it, and melliejellie has it in spades. *ALL ABOUT U*, her new three-track EP, doesn't so much revive the Y2K sound as excavate it — carefully, lovingly, with a bass player's hands rather than a plugin preset. It's a short record. It is also, track for track, one of the more emotionally honest electronic releases to cross my desk this year.
Jessica Fessler – Blue Nightgown
Somewhere between the last glass of red wine and the first cigarette of the evening, Jessica Fessler has found her voice, and it turns out to be a low, unhurried thing, more interested in withholding than confessing. "Blue Nightgown" opens not with a declaration but a slow exhale, the sound of somebody deciding, quietly and for good, that she no longer needs anyone's permission to feel whole.
Paul Louis Villani – Someone In My Head
Melbourne has produced its share of songwriters who mistake volume for feeling and confession for craft. Paul Louis Villani belongs to neither camp. His closing single of 2026, "Someone in My Head," arrives not as a plea for sympathy but as a controlled descent — the sound of a man mapping his own unravelling with the precision of a cartographer rather than the panic of a patient.
MYRA – C’est mon tour
Somewhere between the third verse and the final chorus, a quiet miracle happens: a song about exhaustion turns into an anthem of arrival. MYRA's debut single "C'est mon tour" doesn't announce itself with fireworks. It creeps in on warm zouk chords, settles into the ribs, and only later reveals how thoroughly it has rearranged the furniture of your afternoon.
Pick Up Goliath – Father Asphyxia
There is a particular strain of British music writing — born somewhere between the *NME*'s appetite for spectacle and *Melody Maker*'s taste for the confessional — that never trusted a record until it had bled a little. Sam George, who records as Pick Up Goliath from his own studio in Cáceres, Spain, has made a career of records that bleed on cue. But *Father Asphyxia*, the fifth single lifted from his forthcoming EP *Salt & Static*, is the first time the wound feels genuinely his, rather than a wound assembled for effect.