There’s a certain kind of heartbreak that doesn’t explode; it just simmers. That’s the territory Randy Beth steps into with her latest single, overstay .  No screaming fights. No dramatic exits. Just that slow, heavy ache of knowing you’ve stuck around too long in a love that stopped loving you back. And she captures it perfectly . This is Randy Beth’s seventh single, but it hits like a debut in all the best ways; vulnerable, stripped-down, and emotionally exposed. It’s also her first full-blown pop ballad, and she doesn’t waste a second of it. The production is soft and sparse, giving her voice space to breathe  and break, like she’s whispering a confession straight into your chest. Lyrically, overstay  doesn’t try to be clever, it tries to be real. And that’s where it wins. She leans into the discomfort, painting scenes that feel deeply familiar: the quiet dread of knowing you're not where you're supposed to be, but not knowing how to leave. It’s that universal limbo so many of us avoid until it’s too late. Randy doesn’t avoid it; she walks right through it and takes us with her. What makes this track stand out isn’t just the honesty, it’s the restraint. She doesn’t scream the message; she barely raises her voice. That whisper-soft delivery is what guts you. It’s the sound of someone exhausted from pretending. And in a world that glamorizes breakups as “bad bitch” anthems, overstay  dares to be soft. overstay  isn’t just a breakup song, it’s a mirror. And Randy Beth holds it up without flinching. If you’ve ever stayed too long, kept the peace at the cost of your own, or waited for a sign that never came, this one’s gonna sting, in the best way.

If you’ve ever needed a soundtrack for when you’re driving with no destination, vibes high, and expectations low, Giselle ’s got you covered. Her latest R&B/pop single “ Cruisin ’” is a playful celebration of emotional liberation, post-relationship healing, and pure summer bliss. But don’t get it twisted, this isn’t just some feel-good track with chill production. There’s a whole cinematic layer to this release that takes the meaning deeper than it seems. Originally from Boston and raised in Buffalo, NY, Giselle has carved her own lane in the Los Angeles music scene since taking a leap of faith at 21. A multi-instrumentalist with a fearless spirit, she’s performed at iconic venues like The Mint, Hotel Ziggy, and Whisky a Go Go. And with “Cruisin,” she’s showing exactly why she belongs in the conversation when it comes to rising R&B/pop artists blending musicality with creativity. The song itself is built for windows-down drives and flirty late-night hangs. It's a sonic sigh of relief after surviving messy relationships, choosing freedom over commitment, vibes over drama. No strings. No plans. Just good company and better music. “Life doesn’t always have to be so serious, and that’s what this song is all about,” Giselle says. “Having fun and enjoying life!” But here’s the twist: the official music video for “Cruisin’” flips the whole vibe on its head. Inspired by Giselle’s love for horror films and femme empowerment, the video is a chaotic, campy, horror-inspired joyride. Think Jennifer’s Body meets Clueless, it’s bloody, it’s hilarious, and it totally subverts expectations. Giselle uses horror tropes to reclaim power, turning typical victim narratives into something silly, horrific, and downright fun. “I just hope they enjoy the horror and camp vibes,” she says. “It’s meant to be silly, horrific, fun, and empowering!” So yeah, “Cruisin’” is more than a summer bop. It’s a genre-bending, stereotype-smashing celebration of freedom in sound and in visuals. And if this is your first time hearing Giselle’s name, don’t blink. You’re going to see it a lot more. “Cruisin’” feels like the ultimate post-breakup freedom anthem . W as there a specific moment or relationship that inspired the shift from pain to playfulness in this track? I was heavily inspired by early 2000s R&B tracks. Think back to the early 2000s Pharrell era! I always wanted to make a song that reminded me of that timeframe, and this is how it came to be. I thought of the instrumental/melody and sent over the concept to one of the producers I work with, Guhan. In just a few short voice memo clips, I didn’t have all the words just yet, but the vibe of the song was there. The words, “we can just keep cruising,”popped into my head when I was recording myself humming the melody, which then became the chorus! Once Guhan sent over the finalized track for me to lay down my vocals on, I knew I wanted to make the song fun, not so serious, but to also have an empowering message with it for the music video that I envisioned in my head… so I wrote the song with my music video visuals in mind. And that’s how it came to be!     The music video is such a creative contrast to the laid-back feel of the song—how did your love for horror films influence the visual direction, and what was your favorite moment to shoot? Thank you!! I wanted it to be a big creative contrast so it would catch people off guard. It’s kind of humorous to me to have such a laid-back song paired with a horror-filled (but funny horror and empowering) music video. My love for horror and even hitman-type films heavily inspired this music video when it came down to specific shots, blood, and even storyline. There are even Easter eggs to some of my favorite Halloween franchise films in there as well as a little nod to Fast & Furious (which isn’t horror, but when I think of Cruisin, I think of cars and the early 2000s). Everything in the video is important, and each detail matters… even down to the price Sam pays me for my services. $804 is my birthday, but also my second album release!  As for my favorite scene to shoot? I’d say the bloody parts. Even though fake blood went into my mouth (gross), it was worth it! I also really enjoyed those scenes since they were done with my fiancé, so it wasn’t awkward at all! Plus, he LOVES horror, so it was great to film with him. You’ve performed at some iconic venues since moving to LA . H ow has the city shaped your sound, and what do you think sets you apart in the R&B/pop scene right now? It’s been amazing to perform around some of the most iconic venues here in LA. I’m so glad I moved here 8 years ago. It’s been a journey, but it’s turned a new leaf. More shows, more good vibes, more creativity and more positivity! I’d say living in LA has pushed me to try things that I may have once been shy about doing. “Cruisin’” is a great example of that. I feel like younger me as an artist would’ve never actually dared to write a song like this, and to allow inspiration from older songs I loved growing up. As an artist, that “sultry/fun” type of vibe isn’t really me. But I think this city has helped me learn it’s okay to give it a try and have fun. I’ve definitely grown in confidence in myself and my music and art. I’d say what sets me apart in the R&B and pop scene is my sound. You’ll always know a Giselle song when you hear it BUT you may be surprised that it’s different from the last release. I also think directing and filming my own music videos and really throwing in my own personal experiences and/or my love for horror and creating short films has really enhanced my music and my art.     You're a multi-instrumentalist, which is rare in pop . H ow does your musicality influence your songwriting process, especially for a song as vibe-driven as “Cruisin’”? It definitely helps me distinguish what types of sounds I want to hear in the songs. It also helps me a lot with chord progressions. Sometimes I’ll just get on my keyboard and figure out the melodies that way!  The video has a clear message of empowerment masked in humor and gore . W hat do you want women watching “Cruisin’” to take away from the story you're telling? Thank you!! I’m so glad that message comes through in the video!! I’d say the message is that we deserve the best. Cheating, no matter who does it, is wrong. I want anyone who’s gone through it to see that video and realize it’s NOT their fault, they didn’t deserve it, and that there are better things to come. Karma will always come back on a cheater. Even if you don’t see it unfold for yourself. Just know, it will. In the music video’s case, karma showed up as ME cutting off his penis. I don’t recommend that in real life though hahah!

If insomnia had a soundtrack, Katie Belle just dropped the opening track. With her latest single “ Bad Dreams ,” the Atlanta-born, LA-tethered artist transforms a lifelong struggle with sleeplessness into a glittery indie-pop fever dream. But don’t let the dreamy synths fool you; this track hits like 3 a.m. anxiety wrapped in silk. It’s danceable, yes, but it’s also deeply relatable to anyone who's ever stared at the ceiling, mind racing, heart pacing, begging for rest that won’t come. Katie doesn’t sugarcoat the truth; she literally seduces it. Her raspy vocals float over a lush, almost hypnotic production that feels both nostalgic and fresh. It's the kind of track that plays like a mirror: sparkly on the outside, but cracked in just the right places. “Bad Dreams” isn’t just a bop, it’s a lifeline disguised as a late-night anthem. If you've ever felt like you were losing your grip at 2 a.m., this one’s for you. She’s not new to the game either. Katie’s been writing and recording for over a decade, and it shows. “Bad Dreams” is a seasoned songwriter’s take on emotional chaos, tight, self-aware, and layered. But it’s also just the beginning. Her upcoming EP People Pleaser (dropping this fall) promises to peel back more layers, diving headfirst into anxiety, insomnia, the toxic art of saying “yes” too much, and the journey back to self. If this single is any indication, Katie’s not afraid to go there, and she’s taking her listeners with her. Let’s be real: in a world full of fake-deep pop dressed in glitter, Katie Belle is delivering something genuine. She’s giving you permission to feel messy, restless, and imperfect, then she wraps it up in a beat you can dance through your breakdown to. That’s what the best music does. It doesn’t fix you. It frees you. Katie Belle has carved out a space for the emotionally exhausted, a place where anxiety, insomnia, and self-doubt are not just acknowledged but given a voice. And with her upcoming EP, People Pleaser, on the horizon, it’s clear she’s not just telling her story, she’s reclaiming it. “Bad Dreams” balances upbeat production with raw, emotional lyrics. How do you navigate that contrast when you’re creating? Do you see music as escape or confrontation?” I love the contrast. I think it’s cool to mix textures and experiment with sounds, it keeps things exciting. I hope sonically this opens the minds of the listeners and gives them new ideas. You’ve said People Pleaser  is basically an autobiography. Was there a specific breaking point or breakthrough moment that pushed you to finally tell your full story through this EP? I wouldn’t say there was a breaking point or one singular moment that changed me. It took time to come to some of these realizations and I know there’s more too a lot of them that I’m still working through. I think I’ve been here for a while, but I’m just not learning to enjoy the view.  How has growing up in a suburban environment shaped your songwriting? Do you still feel like you’re unlearning parts of that upbringing today? Absolutely I am, there is a lot that I love about where I grew up. Living outside of Atlanta taught me diversity at a young age, but there are still some small town ideals I am growing out of and not taking with me as I continue to grow as a person and as an artist. A lot of that is me learning to be my own person.  Insomnia is such a personal and isolating experience. How did you translate something so internal into a sound that connects with others? Honestly, it was kind of hard haha! I have been wrestling with the idea for a few years now and haven't been able to find the right words. There’s just so much I could say and so many avenues I could go down… It’s possible it’ll come back up later on in future songs. I’m grateful my producer Fabio Campedelli knows me well enough to bring it to life sonically and make the track. We collaborated on new sounds and synths to get that dreamy disco vibe.  What advice would you give to other creatives who feel stuck between being true to themselves and trying to meet everyone else's expectations? At the end of the day, this is your life and this is your art. Do the things that make you happy and make you proud because you’re the one who has to sleep with them at night.

Clear your calendar and pack your bags. Joey Green's Verde Vacay  is back for its fourth year, and it's shaping up to be the ultimate destination music escape. Running from July 13 to 17, 2025, the event takes over the breathtaking Hyatt Ziva Riviera Maya for a five-day, all-inclusive experience where sun, soul, and sound collide. More than just a festival, Verde Vacay  invites fans into the heart of the Texas Red Dirt and Americana scenes with a handpicked lineup featuring Johnny Cooper, Tyler Bond, Erick Willis, Bobby Duncan, Bart Crow, and Joey Green himself. Each artist brings their flavor to the beachside stage, creating a one-of-a-kind atmosphere where connection is just as important as performance. " Verde Vacay  is about getting a bunch of music-loving, fun-loving, vacation-needing folks together at an all-inclusive resort to have FaceTime with the artists and fans alike," says Green. "Let's all let loose, listen to music in a place where we're free to be ourselves—relax, party, and just engage." The festival is part of the Texas Music Getaway series, a curated collection of events designed to break down the barriers between artists and fans. With live performances, poolside jams, artist-led excursions, and late-night hangouts, the experience is intimate, immersive, and unforgettable. Whether you're sharing a drink with a headliner or dancing barefoot in the sand, it's all about authentic connection and good vibes. This year's setting at Hyatt Ziva Riviera Maya promises luxury with a laid-back spirit. Attendees can enjoy beachfront views, gourmet dining, and spontaneous music moments around every corner. Forget the crowded venues and rigid schedules. Verde Vacay 2025  is for those who crave genuine music, genuine people, and genuine freedom. You're not just watching a show—you're part of it.

Photo by RDNE So, you’re an indie artist with dreams of world domination—okay, maybe not world domination, but certainly some recognition, streams, and fans. You’ve got the talent, the songs, and the drive, but what you might not have is a major label backing you up with a giant budget for promotion. No worries! Promoting music without a label is entirely possible, and we’ve got 10 proven tips to help you rise above the noise and get noticed, without the big record deal.  1. Create a Killer Online Presence In the digital age, independent music promotion begins with your online presence. You need to have a professional-looking website, social media profiles that match your brand, and an active presence across platforms. Post snippets, teasers, and live videos, and engage with your fans regularly. Using an online video recorder is a great way to create polished content quickly, whether you’re announcing a new track or sharing behind-the-scenes moments. Fans will expect to find you on Instagram, Facebook, Twitter, TikTok, and anywhere else people are hanging out online. Don’t just post your music, share your personality, behind-the-scenes glimpses, and relatable moments that connect you with your audience. 2. Leverage the Power of Streaming Services Even without a major label, you can market your music without a record deal by making sure it's available on all major streaming platforms like Spotify, Apple Music, YouTube, and SoundCloud. Getting your tracks on these services increases visibility and allows fans from all over the world to discover your music. Don’t forget to submit your songs to playlists; they are the modern-day radio stations that help promote music without a label. 3. Collaborate with Other Indie Artists Photo: Pavel Danilyuk One of the easiest ways to grow your audience is by teaming up with other artists. Look for fellow indie musicians whose fans would dig your vibe and see if you can collaborate on a track, a music video, or even a live performance. This creates a win-win situation where you share fan bases and promote each other’s music. When you collaborate, you’re not just promoting your  music; you’re amplifying your exposure and building connections. 4. Utilize Social Media for Music Promotion DIY music promotion strategies are most effective when you use social media to your advantage. It’s a free (or almost free) way to get the word out about your latest release. Post snippets, teasers, and live videos, and engage with your fans regularly. Use stories, reels, and posts to keep your audience in the loop about your upcoming shows, releases, or new music. The more authentic and transparent you are, the more fans will connect with you. 5. Build an Email List Email marketing may sound like a thing of the past, but it’s still one of the most effective ways to promote music as an indie artist. Use a service like Mailchimp or Substack to build an email list and send regular updates about your music, upcoming shows, and exclusive offers. Offering a free download of a track or a special behind-the-scenes video in exchange for signing up can help you grow your email list quickly. And trust us, your fans will appreciate the personal touch of direct communication. 6. Play Live Shows and Tours (Even Virtual) Photo: RDNE Nothing beats independent artist promotion like performing live. Whether it’s a full-blown tour or a cozy local gig, playing live allows you to connect with fans in real life, build a community, and create buzz. If a physical tour isn’t in the cards, virtual shows are an awesome way to keep engaging your audience. Live streams, virtual festivals, or Instagram/Facebook live performances are all opportunities to get your music heard and increase your visibility. 7. Get Press Coverage and Blog Features Getting indie music coverage from blogs and websites is another powerful way to market your music without a record deal. Reach out to music blogs, podcasts, and local media outlets to see if they’d be interested in featuring your music. Build relationships with these outlets, offer them exclusive content, or pitch their compelling stories about your journey. Press features can drive traffic to your music and give you the kind of credibility that’ll help you stand out. 8. Engage Your Fans—They’re Your Superpower Fan engagement is your secret weapon. Marketing music without a label requires building a strong relationship with your audience, and that means talking to them, not just shouting your music at them. Respond to comments, ask for feedback, create polls, and let your fans feel like they’re part of the process. Offer exclusive content, sneak peeks, or early access to new music to make them feel like VIPs. Fans who feel valued are more likely to spread the word about you and your music. 9. Submit Your Music to Playlists (and Don’t Be Afraid to Ask) Getting your music featured on curated playlists is one of the most effective ways to gain new listeners and grow your fanbase. There are thousands of playlists out there, both big and small, that can give your tracks the exposure they need. Don’t be afraid to pitch your music to playlist curators—whether that’s submitting to Spotify’s editorial playlists or smaller, independent curators who specialize in your genre. Playlists are the modern radio stations and can be a game-changer for indie artist music marketing. 10. Invest in Your Brand (Without Breaking the Bank) Photo: Tima Miroshnichenko No, you don’t need a huge budget to market your music effectively, but you do need to invest time and resources into building your brand. Think about your image, your visuals, your story, and your music videos. Are they cohesive? Does everything reflect who you are as an artist? You don’t need a big label to create a professional look—just some creativity and consistency. As an indie artist, your brand is just as important as your music, so spend some time developing it. In conclusion, promoting your music without a major label doesn’t mean you’re stuck in obscurity. With the right strategies, independent music promotion tips, smart social media use, creative collaborations, and fan engagement, you can build a dedicated following and grow your music career.

There's vulnerability, and then there's " Am I More Than Enough?!!!??! " A title that feels like an anxious journal entry and a track that plays like a heart cracked open. This stunning opener to Tidings In The Rough , the debut full-length from Yellow Couch Music , sets the emotional and sonic tone for the entire project. It's not flashy. It doesn't need to be. It breathes. Led by drummer and composer Layton Weedeman, Yellow Couch Music isn't just a band. It's a community of sound, and "Am I More Than Enough?!!!??!"  captures that ethos with grace and groove. The track leans into smoky R&B and slow-jam jazz textures, with Estephanie's intimate vocals floating over Kirk Schoenherr's tender, expressive guitar work. It's the kind of song you play on a long night drive, caught between overthinking and emotional release. Weedeman's background as a drummer is evident in the best way. Everything is in the pocket, locked in but unhurried. There's space in every beat, allowing the listener to sit with the lyrics and feel the question unfold in real time: "Am I too much? Or just not enough?"  It's about overcompensation, fear of rejection, and the quiet devastation of wondering if your best will ever be enough. It's not chasing trends. It's chasing the truth. What elevates the song is the subtle layering. Warm basslines, tasteful guitar melodies, ambient textures—all anchored by a drum groove that says more through its restraint than any flashy fill could. It's a masterclass in less-is-more production and a perfect introduction to the collaborative spirit that defines Tidings In The Rough . In a sea of surface-level drops, "Am I More Than Enough?!!!??!"  slows down and dares to feel something real. It's an emotional tone-setter for an album that blends genre and soul in equal measure. If you're looking for music that feels human, this is where to start. How did your experience as a drummer shape the way  Tidings In The Rough  came together? My experience as a drummer has always been rooted in groove, feel, and pocket playing. I'm a huge fan of hip-hop, rock, funk, pretty much anything with a solid backbeat that makes you want to move. That's always been the foundation of how I approach the drums. Creating something that feels danceable and locked in. Early on in my drumming journey, I learned what pocket playing was all about, and I embraced it as a form of expression behind the kit. At this point, it feels like second nature. When I started crafting the songs for  Tidings In The Rough , a lot of the ideas began with the drums. Sometimes, I'd have a bassline already in my head and would build grooves around that. But overall, I'd say 90% of the album is rooted in backbeat-heavy pocket playing, drawing from funk, hip-hop, and world rhythms, all filtered through my sensibilities for groove and feel. I love exploring new styles, but as soon as I get a handle on how to play something "correctly" or true to its form, my instinct is to ask: how can I make this groovier? How can I make it funkier or more pocket-driven? That's just how I naturally hear and shape rhythm. What inspired you to launch Yellow Couch Music as a collaborative project rather than a solo act? First and foremost, I'm a professional drummer and musician, but I'm not a professional bass player, guitar player, keyboardist, or singer. I can hear those parts in my head, and I often have a clear idea of how I want them to sound; however, executing them exactly as I imagine is a challenge when I'm working alone. That said, I do see myself growing in those areas, getting better at bass, keys, and other instruments over time. That's part of the journey. The second piece of it is that for most of these songs, I did write the bass parts, the keyboard parts, and the core grooves. They all had their own unique vibe and emotional tone. But I also knew I wanted them to sound as good as the drums at the same level of performance. So, even if I had the ideas, I knew the execution could be better in the hands of someone who specializes in that instrument. For example, I think this drum groove feels great, but the bassline, while solid in concept, isn't quite up to the same standard. So, I'd reach out to a friend who's a professional bass player and ask them to re-record the part. Same with guitar, keys, saxophone, horns, you name it. I leaned into collaboration because I knew it would elevate the music. Sometimes, I would give very specific directions and ask them to play exactly what I had written or imagined in my head. Other times, I left space for them to interpret the part within a set of creative boundaries. In many cases, they brought their voice, their flavor to it, and that became such a beautiful part of the process. There's a lot of trust in that kind of collaboration. My vision for  Tidings In The Rough  was pretty clear, and I chose people. Some I knew personally, others I found through research or trusted referrals, who I felt would bring the right energy to the project. And they did. Their contributions helped shape the album into what it ultimately became. "Fool Stop" features some iconic voices. How did those collaborations come to life? I wrote the instrumental and then collaborated with Grady Tesch and Eric Biondo to refine the groove, making it as funky, groovy, and interesting as possible. From the start, I knew this was going to be a hip-hop-inspired track. That was the intention. The whole feel and inspiration behind it were rooted in hip-hop, so I knew I'd eventually need to bring in some talented MCs. At the time, however, I didn't personally know many MCs. I'm a huge fan of hip-hop; I know hundreds of MCs by name, but I didn't have personal relationships with them, and I couldn't just cold-call them out of the blue. So, I turned to my trusted network of people. One of those people was Steve Royster from Open Crates. I knew his organization was deeply connected to New Jersey hip-hop and DJ culture, so I figured he might have some ideas. I sent him the track and asked if he knew any MCs who might be a good fit. That's when he introduced me to John Robinson. He gave me John's email, and I reached out to him. At first, I thought of it as a cold call. John didn't know me, but later, he told me that because Steve made the introduction, there was already a level of built-in trust. He said if Steve believed in the music, that was all he needed to know. And that was a beautiful moment for me. When John heard the instrumental, he vibed with it. I gave him a little direction based on the theme of the chorus, and he came up with his verse that fit perfectly. The process was similar to that of JSWISS, although we took a slightly different approach. I was familiar with his work through Grady's band, Momentum, but instead of asking Grady to introduce us, I decided to reach out to him directly. I visited JSWISS' website, found his contact information, and sent a genuine cold email introducing myself. I included an MP3 of the instrumental so he could immediately hear the vibe. I kept it honest and told him who I was and what the song was about, and he connected with it. I gave him some loose direction around the chorus lyrics, and he ran with it. As for the chorus itself, that melody and those lyrics came to me after listening to the instrumental probably hundreds of times. It was during a period when I was going through some personal struggles, and the lyrics just emerged naturally from that space. I had a good relationship with Estephanie at the time; we had worked on a few songs together already, so I knew I wanted her to sing the chorus. I wanted a female voice to carry that emotional weight. She was down. She came over to my home studio one day. I sang her the melody, and she nailed it, one or two takes, tops. We kept it, and it was dope. Can you discuss one track on the album that surprised you with its outcome? Locust Walk  was such a fascinating and unexpected creative journey. It all started one day when I went into my drum studio with a mic setup and the intention to learn a groove that was unfamiliar to me, or at least something outside my usual patterns. I sometimes catch myself falling into the same rhythmic habits, so I wanted to push beyond that. I hopped on YouTube and found a video on the Drumeo channel called  "5 Drumming Styles You've (Probably) Never Heard."  One of those styles was called Poinciana, popularized by Ahmad Jamal's version of the tune  Poinciana . The groove, played by drummer Vernell Fournier, had this offbeat swing to it. A New Orleans-style groove using a mallet in the right hand playing the snare, with the snares off, the floor tom, and then the backend of the left stick on the bell. It was subtle, strange, and groovy in its own way. So I recorded about five minutes of myself just playing that pattern over and over, kind of as a personal homage to  Poinciana . When I got home, I started building off that groove, not by copying the original bassline but by creating something with a similar energy. I ended up with a loose, jazzy drum-and-bass foundation that felt different from anything I'd done before. As I often do, I sat with those recordings, listening to them repeatedly. Eventually, melodies began to reveal themselves, particularly horn lines. I reached out to my good friend Lars Haake and told him about the project. I sang the horn parts I had in my head, and he played them. We recorded several takes based on my ideas, and I also gave him space to interpret and improvise. By the end, we had something like five or six horn layers built over this strange, Poinciana-esque drum groove. At that point, I didn't know what I had. It felt weird, jazzy, a little mysterious. But I knew it had  something.  And I thought, "How can I make this even more interesting?" That's when I remembered my fifth-grade art teacher, Mr. Jennings. He was one of my earliest creative heroes, an artist and poet who I always looked up to. I knew he did spoken word, so I reached out on a whim and asked if he had any poetry he'd be open to contributing. I didn't even send him the track; I just asked. A few days later, he sent me an iPhone recording of himself reading a poem called "Locust Walk," which he had written as a tribute to the great Sun Ra. I imported it into my recording software, and to my total surprise, it  fit perfectly . Not only was it nearly the exact length of the instrumental, but rhythmically and emotionally, it landed right in the pocket. It felt like pure magic like something bigger was working through us. I wasn't forcing anything; I was just a vessel. And around that time, Sun Ra's presence kept popping up in my life. People were wearing Sun Ra t-shirts, random mentions in conversation, and I had just seen the Sun Ra Arkestra live for the first time, with Marshall Allen still leading the charge. That show came through my friend Jonathan Glass, who, coincidentally, had also connected me with Lars. Everything felt aligned.  Serendipity was in full effect. With the core of the track built, I decided to shift the energy. I asked myself, "What if this were even funkier?" I ended up stripping out the original Poinciana drums and replacing them with a hard-hitting, backbeat-heavy groove, somewhere between Run-DMC and Rage Against the Machine. That change also called for a new bassline, so I scrapped the original and wrote something much more syncopated and hypnotic, something head-noddy and raw. At that point, I needed a proper studio sound. My drum room is pretty small, and I wanted something bigger and punchier. So I booked a session at Studio G with two people I knew could handle the vibe, Jeff Berner and Grant Zubritsky, to track the new drums and bass live. You can  feel  the energy in the final recording. Raw, chaotic, alive. What began as an experiment in jazz drumming evolved into this wild, genre-bending track featuring spoken word, massive horns, and a hip-hop backbone. It's not Sun Ra's brand of cosmic jazz, but it feels like an  unintended tribute , capturing the same kind of beautiful chaos that his music embodied. And at its core, it's still rooted in the grooves I love. Backbeat-heavy, rhythm-driven, and full of soul. What does success look like for this project, and what's next for Yellow Couch Music? Success, for me, is when I set my mind to something and see it through to completion.  When I can take an idea, manifest it, and bring it into reality. I've always wanted to release my project, my singles and records, and create an album that truly represents  me . And not just the music. I've always wanted everything about the release to reflect my vision, from the sound to the artwork. I wanted to be able to look at a finished piece and say,  Yes, this is mine. This is something I'm proud of. This sounds like me. This looks like me. Over the past three years, working on this album has been a journey, that has taken me from releasing singles and music videos to getting professional photos taken, building my website, shaping my brand, and finally releasing the music into the world. It's all felt like success to me. I've been fortunate enough to collaborate with some amazing people and have even received some great press coverage along the way. One of my next milestones is pressing  'Tidings In The Rough  ' to vinyl. It's 100% going to be yellow vinyl. That's a must. I have a vision for the artwork and the liner notes; it all lives in my mind right now. I'm giving myself about a year to bring it to life. I'm not going to force the process, but when it happens, that'll be another real marker of success for me. I'm a record-head. I love collecting vinyl, I love DJing, and I've always dreamed of holding my album in my hands, opening the sleeve, placing it on a turntable, and hearing it play. That's always been part of the goal. Being able to turn those dreams into reality is the ultimate definition of success for me.

In a sea of EDM releases, Jared Hallock’ s “ My Destiny ” rises as a genre-bending outlier, whispered, weird, and wickedly charming. A Boise-to-Nashville transplant known for his experimental work under the Project213 alias, Hallock swaps synth builds and beat drops for sultry narration, unexpected soundscapes, and Dadaist absurdism in this theatrical take on fate and infatuation. The track opens with a slippery bassline and distant whistle that immediately disorients. Hallock leans into this tension, layering whispered vocals inspired by The Ying Yang Twins and Snoop Dogg over cinematic snaps and dramatic pauses. It’s less of a club banger and more of a fever dream with a BPM. There’s something undeniably captivating about its restraint, how it flirts with sensuality while simultaneously poking fun at its own intensity. Lyrically, “My Destiny” is a monologue from a narrator trying to play it cool in the face of awe. His “destiny” appears beside him, casually radiant, while he attempts to hide the inner spiral of obsession and hope. Hallock doesn’t define what destiny means; it could be a person, a goal, or simply an idea, and that open-endedness makes the track all the more hypnotic. The music video takes this narrative to its most literal and surreal edge. Using a retro collage animation style, Hallock builds a tennis-themed love story that’s as much a satire as it is a confession. Our unlikely hero competes on a court of cosmic longing, chasing the affections of a spotlight-drenched starlet who barely notices his existence. Between slo-mo smashes and fantastical montages, the video offers a visual metaphor for desire: awkward, exaggerated, yet somehow sincere. “My Destiny” is not your average EDM track, and that’s exactly the point. It invites you to let go of structure, abandon genre expectations, and embrace a little weirdness. In doing so, Hallock proves that charm, comedy, and complexity can coexist beautifully in a three-minute dance track.

RYN is done grieving. With her new single “ Graveyard ,” the Alabama-based country-pop artist delivers a gut-punch of emotional clarity wrapped in cinematic storytelling and stunning vocal grit. It’s not just a breakup song. It’s a full-blown burial of what no longer serves her, and she’s holding the shovel herself. From the first nostalgic verse, “When I think of you, it takes me to our city / Homecoming dance floor back to being 15,” RYN paints a vivid picture of first love, drenched in longing and golden-hour innocence. But she doesn’t stay stuck there. The chorus slams in like a reckoning, trading heartbreak for empowerment as she sings: “Heading to the graveyard / Where I’ll bury the piece of my heart that won’t let you go.” It’s rare to find a breakup anthem that feels this raw and triumphant at once. The production blends country twang with pop clarity, allowing RYN’s voice, rich, emotional, and unmistakably human, to shine at the forefront. She moves from delicate memories to decisive resilience, showing us the whole arc of emotional closure. Lines like “Didn’t think my heart could beat among the living / Without the sound of your voice I’m still breathing” hit especially hard, capturing the grief of loss and the surprising strength that can follow. And by the time the final chorus arrives, RYN isn’t mourning anymore; she’s rebuilding. “Graveyard” proves that RYN isn’t just a storyteller; she’s a truth-teller. With a shovel in one hand and a melody in the other, she’s unearthing something new: freedom, faith in herself, and the power of closure. This isn’t about heartbreak. It’s about healing. “Graveyard” feels incredibly personal. What was going through your mind the moment you started writing this song? This song was a trauma dump for me. It was an opportunity to look inward, feel the pain again, and release it creatively. I knew I wanted to write a song about this particular person because they hurt me in a way that I had never been hurt before, and it haunted me for so long. I refuse to let it come with me into my future.  You describe this track as putting bad memories to rest; how did it feel emotionally once the song was finished? Like a breath of fresh air, and getting to write it with someone I admire so much was the icing on top.  There’s so much vivid imagery in your lyrics. Were any of the lines pulled from real-life moments or memories? It's so funny you ask, because the graveyard is not only a symbol but also the first place that I hung out with the person that this song is about. It felt right to create a song highlighting that moment.  You’ve built a powerful identity outside the traditional music mold. How do you balance being a medical professional, a strong woman, and an artist all at once? Balancing is so hard! Some days, I don’t even remember my own name, haha! What I will say, though, is that setting small and large goals is key. I try to set at least one realistic goal to achieve each month and work hard to reach it. I also forgive myself when I struggle to reach it or have to brainstorm and choose a different goal. I also treat myself with grace, as I would anyone else who struggles sometimes. Life can kick you in the booty sometimes. It’s about how you use that kick in the booty that determines your happiness and outcome.

From the moment Stream Worthy: Audacity kicks in, it's clear that RYJ CR8 isn't here to blend in; he's here to break out. The Dallas-born artist navigates this genre-defying EP with intent, delivering a body of work that's smooth yet raw, cinematic yet grounded, vulnerable yet unshakably confident. The project unfolds like a series of inner monologues, confessions layered over moody 808s, minimalist beats, and hypnotic vocal textures. RYJ CR8's ability to shift between alt-R&B melody and gritty hip-hop flows keeps each track fresh, while his storytelling creates a thread of emotional depth that binds the project together. Standout moments like "Patience" and "Villain Arc" showcase both lyrical introspection and sonic swagger, echoing the influence of artists like Brent Faiyaz and Smino without ever sounding derivative. Where this EP shines most is in its sense of freedom. These aren't songs chasing a trend; they're moments of self-liberation. RYJ CR8 isn't afraid to explore his own contradictions: the hurt and the healing, the ambition and the apathy, the confidence and the questions. His voice carries the weight of someone who's been through it but refuses to let the pain define him. And that tension, that audacity to own both the scars and the shine, is what makes this project hit so hard. Stream Worthy: Audacity is more than just a title; it's a declaration. It's the sound of an artist who knows his worth and wants you to feel yours, too. Currently on tour, RYJ CR8 is proving in real time that he's not only stream-worthy but stage-ready, and the kind of artist who's just getting started. The title Audacity says a lot in one word: What gave you the audacity to create this project the way you did? The Audacity lies in people speaking their truth and saying the quiet parts out loud. You blend alt-R&B and hip-hop seamlessly. How do you approach genre when you're writing or producing a track? I create music off of feel.  Melodies first.  If I like a beat, I will cut it off immediately on the first listen and restart it to record the melody im feeling in the present. "Villain Arc" feels like a standout emotionally. Was there a specific moment or experience that inspired that track? Oddly enough, I am a lover, but I think life can force you into a villain role at times, and this was a time I felt like my back was against the wall. You're currently on tour; how does the energy of this EP translate in a live setting compared to the studio versions? The first date in DC showed a lot of promise.  It's always nerve-wracking introducing yourself to different regions, but so far, so good.  Next up, Atl in late July. What's one thing you hope fans feel after listening to Stream Worthy: Audacity from top to bottom? After hearing about this project, I want people to understand the versatility I bring.  The mask itself symbolizes not being put into a box.

After seven years of near silence and just as many detours, The Ting Tings have returned. But this isn’t a loud, brash comeback. It’s something bolder. ' Home ' is not a grab for relevance. It’s a deliberate, soul-searching pivot into vulnerability, restraint, and the kind of musical maturity that only comes with time. You remember them for the snarling energy of “ That’s Not My Name ” and the punked-out swagger of “ Shut Up and Let Me Go .” But Katie White and Jules De Martino aren’t here to recycle the past. With 'Home,' the UK duo pulls back the curtain, trades attitude for atmosphere, and delivers a body of work that feels lived-in, not manufactured. And it hits, not with impact, but with depth. 'Home' is a quiet storm. A slow burn. A triumph. The album’s mission is clear from the first note of “Good People Do Bad Things,” a buttery soft opener that invites compassion over condemnation. White’s vocals glide with empathy while De Martino holds it down with grooves that barely rise above a whisper. It’s disarmingly tender, and it sets the tone for everything that follows. Where "We Started Nothing" shouted, 'Home' listens. On “Dreaming” and “Winning,” the lyrics explore the tension between ambition and emptiness. “What are you really winning when you’re winning?” Katie asks. There’s no irony, just a naked question that lands like a punch to the gut. The record is also deeply personal. “Song For Meadow” and “In My Hand” are love letters to the couple’s daughter, aching with quiet devotion. This isn’t performative parenting. It’s real. It’s raw. And it’s beautiful. Production-wise, 'Home' is a masterclass in analog subtlety. Synths hum like nostalgia. Guitars shimmer in soft focus. Pianos echo like late-night confessions. Everything is intentional, down to the silences. The album’s midpoint is its strongest. “Goodbye Song” could pass for a forgotten TV theme from the early 80s, soaked in sax and sentiment. “Dance on the Wire” floats in with the poise of vintage Roxy Music. The closing track, “Down,” doesn’t end the record; it leaves it suspended in midair, unresolved but at peace. 'Home' isn’t here to trend. It’s here to mean something. It’s not an album you blast, but one you carry. The Ting Tings didn’t reinvent themselves. They remembered who they were and turned that into something honest, fragile, and maybe even timeless. They didn’t come back to be loud. They came back to be real. And it worked. "Home" feels like a complete sonic shift from the brash energy of your early work. What emotional or personal breakthrough gave you both the permission to slow down and lean into softness on this album? There are a number of seismic emotional reasons why we shifted style on our new album. COVID was one. Locked in writing and recording without mixing with other beings, little interaction or sharing had a massive effect on enjoying something new without much interference. Disillusionment with the music industry and the current state of play meant we wanted to be truly independent and be our creative selves without management opinions, label qualms, doubters, or ego-driven trend followers. Becoming parents for the first time is probably the biggest distraction in our lives to date. We were kinda done. There were many reasons why we didn't fancy being a band anymore, so we closed shop and just enjoyed writing while in this new cocooned life. You've mentioned building studios in wild places, from LA with no plumbing to boats and trailers. How do these offbeat environments affect your songwriting, and did the isolation of Ibiza give "home" a different kind of clarity or warmth? We've always preferred to be the underdog. Fame is a disease, a terrible hindrance and burden, so moving from one place to another felt like deconstruction, a new start every time. We had done LA, Berlin, the South of France, and London in the same manner. Building a new studio is part of the songwriting process for us. We stumbled into Ibiza when we played Ibiza Rocks during the album tour and found ourselves drawn back sometime later to do some recording. The summer music scene isn't anything we were interested in, tbh. We found a winter scene that was mild weather with a sprinkling of artists who had risked isolation by distancing themselves from the cosmopolitan musical city lifestyles. We met Andy Taylor from Duran Duran, and we collectively moved into a small studio for a while, mostly because we shared the same view of the disastrous world of music and what it was becoming. We bought an old house on a hillside, then went back on tour. Years later, we returned, and that's when the Island really impacted us. Completing the new album 'Home' on the Island made total sense. We were not coming here on holiday or to chill or party anymore. We were coming home. It felt like home. The mindset, sustainability, health consciousness, and freedom for our new family. More time to look at music from a new perspective, away from all the unwanted noise. Felt safe, something we had not felt for a bloody long time. There's a deep undercurrent of parenting throughout this record. How has becoming a family changed the way you view vulnerability in your music, especially with songs like "Song for Meadow" and "In My Hand"? Before having a child, there was no distraction. We just worked 24/7. We traveled, we moved around, and we performed and experimented on the flip of a coin. We thought it was ideal, paradise, and the way dedication was meant to be as artists. But having a family meant distraction. A crying daughter, a sick or hungry or frightened baby that we attended to with love and care, we could be midway into a recording or writing session or meeting, and we would just stop. It's the only way. She comes first. From the moment she arrived, everything changed. We could never have stopped mid-session before. It was so refreshing. Records take time to write, record, and experience. We found we could do much more by legitimately moving away from the task, and in turn, it inspired us to dig deeper. Everything is moving way too fast to be any cop these days. You once said you considered changing your band name entirely. In an era obsessed with reinvention, why did you ultimately choose to keep the Ting Tings, and how does "home" challenge people's expectations of what that name means now? We named ourselves 'Demartino & white' to de-shackle from the Ting Tings. We pinned pictures of all our favorite artists whose songs we had been listening to forever, all on a mood board: Steely Dan, The Eagles, Fleetwood Mac, Bread, and Gerry Rafferty, to name but a few. We did what was natural while nurturing our new family without any touring or social media ties, just writing songs. No tech, no tricks, no fads. Just playing our real instruments between parenting hours in lockdown. Then, when the songs were mostly written, we sensed excitement in the prospect of recording them properly and getting them heard. The Ting Tings is our DNA, our bloodline, something we are hugely proud of, so we took the step back into the limelight to finish the recordings and start announcing on socials that we had a new record in the making. The reinvention is in the music, not the band. It's still us two. Though we live, we are a nine-piece. We woke up in the eagles. Tracks like "Good people do bad things" and "Winning" explore internal conflict with brutal honesty. Was there ever a moment during the making of this record where you had to rewrite or rethink a song because it felt "too real"? No. Given there's always some finessing in songwriting, this album was in its own lane from the moment we decided to detach and just write. Whatever we wrote immediately spoke volumes in the lyrics, melodies, and music. There was never a need to re-evaluate. It took 3 years to write and 4 years to write and record. We were under no deadlines or expectations. We're writing again now. We want to get old doing it this way.