Randy Newman once quipped that writing about music is like dancing about architecture, yet when confronted with 2002's latest offering, *The Wishing Well*, one finds the impulse to articulate its curious charm almost irresistible. This is New Age music at its most unapologetically earnest, a sonic sanctuary that makes no concessions to irony or postmodern detachment — and the album is all the better for it.

Portland's Alice Okada arrives with her debut EP having spent merely twelve months immersed in the intricate world of Intelligent Drum N' Bass, yet the assurance radiating from 'Liquid, or Jungle?' suggests an artist who has lived several lifetimes within the genre's sprawling architecture. The EP's title poses a question that mirrors the central tension of DnB itself—the perpetual negotiation between the genre's opposing poles of atmospheric drift and kinetic rupture.

There's something quietly defiant about Jake Vera's debut album *Lost*, released this past October—a record that arrives not with fanfare but with the hushed determination of someone who has something urgent to say. In an era where algorithms curate our playlists and artificial intelligence threatens to homogenize the very notion of artistic expression, this Dallas-based alt-rock artist has crafted a deliberately human document, warts and all.

The Alsatian duo have fashioned a genuinely unsettling piece of work. Where lesser acts might settle for pastiche—aping the neon-soaked aesthetics of synthwave without understanding its emotional architecture—Macrowave have constructed something altogether more substantial.

The San Diego duo of Monica Sorenson and Rick Walker have spent the better part of a decade carving out their niche in the American alternative rock landscape, but with *Transition*, their sixth release, they've done something rather more audacious: they've stripped away the armour. This six-song collection represents a deliberate shedding of skin, a move away from the fuller-bodied rock arrangements that characterised their previous work towards something altogether more vulnerable and unadorned.

The transatlantic collaboration between Russell Stewart and Joe Garmon has yielded a second offering that positions itself defiantly against the tide of digital artifice. Released on Christmas Day 2025, *Ghost of Tomorrow* arrives as both manifesto and meditation, a conscious rejection of algorithmic composition wrapped in the familiar textures of hard rock's storied lineage.

The compilation album has always occupied a peculiar position in the musical ecosystem. Too often dismissed as mere samplers or promotional vehicles, the format at its best functions as cartography—mapping territories both geographical and aesthetic that might otherwise remain unexplored. Home Hearing Records' *Adventures in Sound Vol.2* operates firmly within this latter tradition, presenting ten tracks that share little beyond their refusal to compromise and their commitment to the vital, messy business of making music that matters.

There's something quietly audacious about an independent German artist in 2026 crafting an album that sounds like it was unearthed from a dusty crate in a Laurel Canyon estate sale. 7Sven's *But Live It* doesn't so much ignore contemporary trends as politely sidestep them, opting instead for the sort of sophisticated, jazz-inflected pop that dominated the AM airwaves when musicianship still mattered and albums were designed to be experienced rather than skipped through.

Basel's LUNA & The Gents arrive with their debut EP like guests at a garden party who've dressed impeccably for the wrong decade – and somehow made everyone else feel underdressed. "SECOND LIFE (PART I)" is a curious proposition: a virtual band wielding real instruments, a modern project steeped in bygone aesthetics, five previously released singles bundled with an extended chanson – the whole enterprise balances precariously between pastiche and genuine artistry.

The third long-player from Scotland-born, Australia-based Coolonaut arrives like a Molotov cocktail wrapped in paisley silk. Recording to analogue 8-track in splendid rural isolation, this artist has fashioned a record that deliberately thumbs its nose at contemporary production values while delivering a furious moral statement about our present moment.