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.
Sparky’s Magic Piano – Orange Juice
*What does it mean to make music nobody asked for, in a house nobody will visit, about feelings nobody can quite name? Sparky's Magic Piano have the answer, and it fizzes like citrus on a winter morning.*
Rupert Träxler – Fear Factory
Picture, if you will, the solitary composer hunched over a mixing desk somewhere in Vienna, layering guitar upon guitar, feeding his own voice through algorithms until it multiplies into a chorus of spectral strangers. This is Rupert Träxler's working method, and on "Fear Factory" — his fourth single and arguably his most fully realized — it yields something genuinely difficult to dismiss.
Ken Woods and the Electric Reckoning – Eyes Shut
Rock music has always worked best as a diagnostic tool — the X-ray rather than the bandage — and Ken Woods understands this with the bone-deep conviction of someone who has spent a lifetime conducting other people's symphonies while quietly assembling his own. "Eyes Shut," the lead single from his forthcoming album *American Catastrophe*, arrives with the quiet authority of a man who knows exactly what he wants to say and has found, at last, precisely the right way to say it.
Solum – Burn
Grief, when it tips into fury, has a particular texture. It is not the clean weeping of a ballad or the righteous thunder of a protest anthem — it is messier, more volatile, faintly embarrassing in its honesty. It is the 3 a.m. draft of the message you never send. It is the fantasy of consequence, the hunger for karma that arrives conveniently and on schedule. Solum, the London-based independent artist who produces, writes, and performs every note of his own material, understands this texture with uncomfortable precision on *Burn*, his latest single released at the tail-end of April 2026.
Reset 89 – Influence
Brisbane does not announce itself. It broods, sweats, hums with subtropical electricity, and apparently — if Clay Wakefield is to be believed — it ferments rage. Quiet, productive, home-studio rage. The kind that produces ten tracks of snarling industrial electro-rock and then sits back, deeply satisfied, waiting for the world to catch up.
Törner Cryda – Knight in Pieces
The problem with most retro-leaning rock records is that they mistake nostalgia for vision. They excavate the past the way tourists visit ruins — snapping photographs, buying a fridge magnet, going home unchanged. Törner Cryda, five students from Lund University who apparently spent their formative years listening to Zeppelin bootlegs and reading medieval hagiographies, have the good sense — and the genuine talent — to do something altogether more alive with their influences. *Knight in Pieces*, their debut long-player, doesn't reconstruct the 1970s so much as cheerfully colonise them, plant a flag, and start issuing its own passports.
Alex Tolm – Présence Absente
Grief, it turns out, does not always arrive as a thunderclap. Sometimes it seeps in slowly — through the spaces left by a half-remembered voice, a chair that nobody sits in any more, the particular silence of a room after someone has stopped inhabiting it. Alex Tolm, the Belgian independent artist behind this remarkable debut, understands this with an acuity that most artists spend entire careers trying to locate. *Présence Absente* — "Absent Presence" — is exactly what the title promises: a meditation on the ghosts we carry inside us, rendered in piano, synth, and the kind of French-language poetry that feels wrung from genuine experience rather than assembled for effect.
Suzanne Grzanna – Cat’s Meow XO
**The Milwaukee jazz queen purrs her way through her tenth album with feline grace, swinging hard and sighing soft — and the results are rather irresistible.**
Ekelle – (Turn Me) Loose
Every generation throws up an artist who makes the act of walking away feel like the most radical political statement imaginable. Dusty Springfield had it. Gloria Gaynor codified it. Lizzo briefly owned it before the narrative got complicated. And now, from the frost-bitten creative furnace of Toronto, Ekelle arrives with *(Turn Me) Loose* — a single so self-possessed, so immaculately constructed in its fury and its freedom, that it demands you pay attention whether you planned to or not.
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.