Newcastle’s teen grunge disruptors PIT aren’t waiting for permission; they’re showing up loud, early, and ready to shake the ground. The 17-year-old trio has spent the past few years turning every gig, skate park, and stage into proof that the next wave of Aussie hard rock isn’t coming, it’s already here. And if you needed a sign, they’re leveling up? Here it is: PIT is playing a FREE all-ages show at South Newcastle Beach Skate Park on Saturday, November 29th at 1 pm, a full 1-hour set. No ticket price, no excuses. Just raw riffs, grit, and that messy teen hunger you can’t fake. PIT is Hamish Sanders (bass), Korby Essex (drums), and Bailey Parker (guitar/vocals), three kids who somehow manage to sound like they’ve lived twice as long. Their sound is this perfect collision of classic grunge dirt and hard-rock punch, the kind of fusion that makes older bands go, “Wait… how are they 17?” Since forming, the trio has barely taken a breath between gigs, tours, and writing sessions. They snagged early attention after being featured on “Indie Sounds From Newy & The Hunter” via Vi-Nil Records, hitting their first tour while most teenagers are still figuring out learner’s permits. Fast-forward to now: PIT is officially signed with MGM and steamrolling toward a massive year loaded with releases, videos, and shows. Their latest single, “ Needed You ,” isn’t coming from a place of polished, label-approved storytelling. It’s ripped from real emotional fallout. Bailey wrote the early pieces of it alone, poetry, fragments, little gut-punch lines you only write when you genuinely feel like the people you counted on vanished right when it mattered. After the instrumentation locked in, those pieces stitched themselves into one of PIT’s most vulnerable (and honestly, most mature) tracks to date. At the heart of it, PIT wants listeners to feel seen.   That’s it. No big marketing spin. The band says they hope “Needed You” becomes that song, the one someone throws on when they’re feeling gutted, alone, or misunderstood. Just like PIT does with the artists they connect to. And the fact that music this emotionally aware is coming from a group barely out of high school? Yeah… that’s what makes people stop and pay attention. You’re pulling a full 1-hour set at a skate park. What’s the energy or chaos you’re hoping breaks out during the show? Well, it’s gonna be an awesome gig, we’re playing right above a massive skate bowl, so there’s gonna be people zooming around and doing tricks while we play, which is dope as fuck. There’s also something different about playing a show outside.. the energy always feels a little more exiting like you’re playing some sort of festival in the 90s or something. So I hope people lean into that and we get some cool footage.  “Needed You” came from a pretty rough moment. How different does it feel performing something that raw in front of a crowd? I have a weird relationship with playing songs, writing Needed You felt kinda lonely, but actually playing it live is the total opposite. I love the feeling of watching people enjoy something so personal to me. Seeing people sing your own lyrics back to you that you wrote by yourself in your room at like 2am.. It’s a hectic feeling.  You’ve been gigging nonstop since you were basically kids. What’s the moment that made you go, “Okay… we’re actually good at this”? I don’t think we ever actually had a moment that we all said we were good, especially growing up in a town like newy, you really have to stay grounded. We all still make jokes with each other about how we suck. But I think if we had to pick a specific moment, it’d have to be our first gig. We were 14 & 15 years old, and we played a mini Battle of the Bands festival in our hometown called Skate Fest. We came third and got $100 bucks, and when we got back home, I think we all simultaneously decided we really wanted to pursue the whole music thing.  Now that you’ve signed with MGM, what’s one thing you refuse to change about PIT, no matter how big things get? Definitely the music and the mate ship. When we first started the band, when we were like 14 & 15, we were all best mates and we all loved playing music. And we really want that to stay the focus point of the band. The music is the most satisfying part of being in this industry, so we don’t wanna let other things that come with being in this industry get in the way of us being best mates and doing what we love.  Even now.. we’re still only 17 but we’re all still really tight mates probably even more than we were back then… and we still enjoy writing and playing music more then ever.  There’s a lot of talk about a ‘Newcastle scene resurgence.’ What do you think makes your generation’s approach to grunge different from the older wave? That’s a hard question because it’s not like us or any other band is trying to be a certain way or different.. But I think the last 20 years or so, the world has slowly drifted away from music that is real and honest in a way that 90s grunge was. Grunge music back then was so popular because people who listened could relate to the songs and their energy. We’re all starting to see a stir of grunge music coming back now, and I think that’s because it’s coming at a time that people really need it. And every day, more and more people are starting to relate to the music, which is awesome.

Maya Jade is done chasing chaos, and her new single “Peace of Mind” makes that crystal clear. The Jamaican-Canadian artist, now repping Vancouver, taps into something rare in modern R&B: calm. Not the fake kind that hides behind mood boards, but the real kind that comes after surviving emotional turbulence and finally learning that peace actually feels better than passion that burns you out. “Peace of Mind” centers around the quiet comfort of being with someone who just fits. No drama, no overthinking, no pretending to be anyone else. It’s about finally finding stability after a string of wild emotional highs and lows, that feeling of exhaling with someone who doesn’t demand your sanity as proof of your love. The kind of connection that feels like a Sunday morning after a stormy week. Sonically, it’s everything you’d expect from Maya, and then some. She blends her R&B and soul roots with smooth, layered textures that shimmer like water at dusk. You can hear hints of Sade and Cleo Sol in her tone, but Maya brings her own energy: warm, grounded, and deeply human. Her vocals glide with quiet confidence, like she’s reclaiming her peace one note at a time. And she’s not afraid to admit this song stretched her limits. “I wanted this to be a unique experience,” Maya says. “I worked with a really talented producer and guitarist who added intricate production details and textures. Thanks to the team, I pushed myself vocally, hitting notes I didn’t know I could and experimenting with new melodies.” That risk pays off. “Peace of Mind” feels intimate and intentional, the kind of song that sneaks into your playlist and stays there. It’s not heartbreak music; it’s post-heartbreak music. The sound of relief, recovery, and self-respect. With “Peace of Mind,” Maya Jade cements herself as one of the most refreshing new voices in alternative R&B not because she’s loud about it, but because she doesn’t have to be. She’s found her balance, and she’s letting it sing. “Peace of Mind” feels like it came from a really grounded place. What was going on in your life when you wrote it, and what finally pushed you to make peace a priority? At the time I was writing the song, I had been out of a relationship that had been heavy and emotionally hard for a while. At this point in time, I was choosing to prioritize myself, my own independence, and self-discovery. If I was seeing someone, I had very low tolerance for the amount of stress they could bring into my life. At the time, I was seeing someone who was just fun to be around, sweet, and kind. I felt at ease with them, and we were both on the same page with where we were with each other.  I wanted to create a song that showed my appreciation for this person and for myself, acknowledging that it took me a while to get to a point where being with someone wasn’t hard, time-consuming, and emotionally taxing. I wanted the song to be warm and kind and acknowledge that even though I was not in a relationship with this person, and even though it did not last, it was still something meaningful.  You’ve talked about finding comfort without losing independence,   something a lot of people struggle with. How do you personally balance intimacy and self-preservation in both life and music? This can definitely be hard to do, and I still feel like I am learning about how best to balance intimacy and self-preservation. I think a lot of it has to do with setting the right boundaries with each other and setting priorities for myself. I always try to make sure that my friends, family, self-care, and music are top priorities, so if I am seeing someone, I always aim to make sure I am spending quality time with my loved ones and continue to work on my music. I also aim to make sure I have enough alone time to reset and recenter myself.  The production on this track is so textured and warm. Can you walk us through how you and your producer built the sound? Were there any specific instruments or moments that shaped the vibe? I worked with Bo Henrik, the producer of this song, who is a very talented producer. The song is a blend of our two styles, Bo’s music being electronic R&B, and mine being more mellow and sultry R&B.  Bo started the song by constructing the drums, chords, and a vocal sample first to build the foundation and structure. From there, we added textural elements like snaps, beeps, and birds chirping. We also brought in a good friend of ours, Brad, to add guitar to the track. I freestyled over the beat and stuck with the melodies and lyrics that resonated with me the most, then finalized the lyrics from there. You’ve mentioned pushing your vocals further than ever before on this song. What was that process like,   mentally and creatively, stepping into new territory with your voice? The beat Bo constructed was something slightly out of my comfort zone, which enabled me to try a new approach. Bo was also very helpful in encouraging me to push myself. This included playing around and experimenting with my vocal range, harmonies, and rhythms.  The pre-chorus features some of the highest notes I’ve ever hit in a song. I also played around with harmonies, incorporating a three-part harmony in the chorus and experimenting with rhythm and harmonies in the second verse. There are many vocal layers in these two sections that allow the song to sound fuller.    I was also able to play around lyrically. The one phrase “run your fingers through my curly hair” holds special meaning for me. As someone who used to hate my curly, kinky hair when I was younger, this line represents me reclaiming my hair as something beautiful and enticing. The R&B space is saturated with heartbreak and toxicity themes. “Peace of Mind” flips that narrative completely. What do you hope your listeners take away about love, healing, and emotional maturity after hearing it? I have my fair share of heartbreak songs. In my experience, nothing allows you to write a song better than a heartbreak. In this case, however, I felt like shifting the theme given, where I was emotionally at the time. This was a time when I was really choosing myself and wanted to make sure anyone I was letting into my life would not get in the way of me taking care of myself. At the same time, I believe intimacy is so beautiful and can also be an act of self-care if it is with the right person.

Let’s get one thing straight: Sabina Beyli is 22 and already writing like someone who’s seen way too much, healed from half of it, and refuses to pretend the other half doesn’t still haunt her. Her new single “Bad Habits” is the kind of alt-pop-rock confession that doesn’t bother dressing itself up for company. It walks in messy, overwhelmed, brutally self-aware, and absolutely unforgettable. Sabina has always written like she’s allergic to sugarcoating, but “Bad Habits” takes that unfiltered honesty and turns the volume all the way up. The track was produced by Mike Midura (Ok Goodnight, Rilena) and co-written with her longtime collaborator Kate J. Brink, and you can feel the creative chemistry all over this thing. It started as a restless, moody instrumental, the kind that sits in your chest like a storm brewing, and Sabina built her confession right on top of it. And let’s talk influences for a second. Imagine the emotional weight of Evanescence, the straightforward bite of Maggie Lindemann, and the atmospheric punch of Deftones all funneled through a 22-year-old who isn’t afraid to torch her own comfort zone for the sake of truth. That’s the vibe here. Dark, melodic, wounded, and uncomfortably real in the best way. “Bad Habits” digs into what happens after you swear you’re done with your old patterns… only to find yourself right back in them. Self-sabotage. Perfectionism. The shame hangover that hits harder than any breakdown. Sabina doesn’t play the victim, but she doesn’t play the hero either. She just tells the truth, and honestly, the truth sounds incredible with a distorted guitar behind it. Her voice is the anchor: soft enough to break, strong enough to bite, and flexible enough to carry both the burnout and the breakthrough. The chorus hits like a relapse you saw coming but couldn’t stop. It feels big, cinematic, and painfully human. With two more singles dropping in early 2026, Sabina Beyli isn’t warming up; she’s warning us. And if “Bad Habits” is any indication, she’s stepping into an era where she’s done holding back.

If rock music ever needed a reminder that art can still be weird, provocative, and unapologetically intelligent, Jack Rush just delivered it on a silver platter, with a smirk. His new single, “Rrose Sélavy,” isn’t just another indie-rock cut clawing for attention. It’s a full-blown cultural resurrection, dragging Marcel Duchamp’s legendary alter-ego straight into 2025 with guitars, grit, and a whole lot of nerve. Rush is Swiss-based, but he plays like he’s been possessed by New York’s underground art ghosts. This track is messy in all the ways that make rock interesting again: razor-sharp riffs, a rhythm section that hits like a caffeine overdose, and a guitar solo that doesn’t ask permission before melting your eyebrows off. And of course, Rush plays everything except drums, because of course he does. One-man-band energy. No safety net. No committee. Just instinct and fire. “Rrose Sélavy” taps straight into Duchamp’s chaotic spirit, the gender-bending, chess-playing, art-world–trolling alter-ego who basically reprogrammed modern creativity. Rush doesn’t just name-drop Duchamp; he builds an entire sonic universe around him. It’s campy, clever, and loaded with references any art nerd will lose their mind over Dadaism, illusion, Man Ray cameos, sneezing in the cream (yes, that’s a real Duchamp thing), the whole deliciously strange catalogue. What makes this track undeniable is how it balances brains and bite. Rush isn’t lecturing; he’s unleashing. This is a rock song first and an art-history love letter second. It blends Pixies-style punch with Weezer-esque crunch, all wrapped in a modern sheen thanks to producer Neihardt (Davide Joerg) and mixer/master Tatum Rush. And let’s talk about the cover art, Rush superimposes his own face onto Duchamp’s iconic Rrose Sélavy portrait. It’s part homage, part parody, part unhinged performance piece. It blurs identity, invites the joke, and reminds you exactly who this artist is: someone who takes risks because he actually has something to say. Since his critically acclaimed debut Late Bloomer (2024), Rush has been leaning harder into raw, unfiltered territory, and honestly, it's where he shines. “Rrose Sélavy” feels like the culmination of that evolution: bigger stakes, sharper edges, and a cultural statement tucked inside an absolute banger. Rush even drops one of the boldest, beautifully timed dedications in rock this year, saying the single honors Duchamp’s legacy and is also dedicated to the LGBTQ+ community, calling them “vital to the resistance movement against authoritarianism.” It’s not lip service. It fits the lineage. Duchamp would approve.

Some bands chase trends. Others just keep evolving until something undeniable clicks. Noon Again , the Northeast alt-rock trio, nearly two decades deep into their creative partnership, fall firmly into the second category. And their new single, “They’ll Never Get It,” proves that longevity doesn’t have to mean predictability. It can mean growth, teeth, grit, and finally daring to say the quiet things out loud. Noon Again has always lived in that sweet spot between melody and mood, with a sound often compared to early-2000s heavy-hitters like Cartel or Anberlin. But this era? This one hits harder. After years of bouncing between their different musical backgrounds, the band has landed on something sharper, darker, and more emotionally honest, and you can feel that shift instantly. “They’ll Never Get It” pulls directly from Swiss Army Man, the cult-favorite film that takes absurdity and turns it into something unexpectedly heartfelt. Noon Again went after that same emotional alchemy. The track is all about the version of loneliness nobody posts about: the type where you look around and realize no one truly gets you, and maybe that’s the whole point. It’s a song for the outsiders, the quiet kids, the ones who always felt a little left-of-center but somehow kept going anyway. It’s about being misunderstood without being broken by it. The band takes the film’s bizarre-turned-meaningful energy and flips it into a heavy, expressive alt-rock cut that grows bigger every time you replay it. Thicker guitars, more weight in the low end, vocals that feel like they’re cracking open a ribcage just to get the truth out, this is Noon Again at their most emotionally revealed. Even with 20 years of songwriting under their belt, this track marks a shift. Noon Again leans into a heavier sound they’ve always loved from the sidelines but never brought fully into their own work until now. And it fits them ridiculously well. The band says this new chapter came naturally, not forced, not branded, just an honest reflection of who they are after years of experience, perspective, and weird, meaningful stories that echoed louder than they expected. If this is the tone of the next few singles, fans should buckle in. Noon Again isn’t reinventing themselves; they’re doubling down on the version of their artistry that feels truest. “They’ll Never Get It” pulls from Swiss Army Man, a film that hides emotional truth inside absurdity. What drew you to that kind of storytelling, and do you think absurdity can sometimes say more about being human than realism can? We’ve always been drawn to stories that are a little strange on the surface but deeply sincere underneath. There’s something about using humor, surreal moments, or odd imagery that makes the emotional punch land even harder, almost like lowering your defenses without realizing it. Swiss Army Man does that in such a creative way; it takes something bizarre and turns it into something surprisingly human and moving. You’ve said the song is about being misunderstood without treating that as a tragedy. Was there a moment in your life or career when you realized that being “the odd one out” was actually a strength, not a flaw? I don’t think it was a single defining moment; it’s more something that happened gradually as we got older. When we all first started making music, it was easy to worry about whether people would understand what we were trying to say or where we fit. But we’ve lived pretty full, layered lives since then, and aging has a way of shifting your priorities. You start caring less about being universally understood and more about being honest, personal, and true to whatever you’re making. Being “different” stopped feeling like something to fix and started feeling like a normal part of growing up and growing into yourself. The track leans into a heavier sound you haven’t fully explored before. What finally pushed you to stop admiring that style from a distance and actually step into it as writers and musicians? It didn’t feel like a stylistic shift as much as a response to what the song was asking for. The feeling behind it carried a different kind of weight, and it wouldn’t have made sense to wrap it in something lighter. We let the emotion pull the sound forward, and we followed it where it wanted to go. You’ve written together for nearly 20 years. What keeps the creative spark alive after this long, and how do you stop familiarity from turning into creative autopilot? We don’t really worry about keeping the spark alive; it stays there because we’re genuinely having fun. We’re three forty-year-olds making music we actually want to listen to, and we enjoy spending time together. The songs usually start with a clear emotional direction, and from there, it’s about bringing them to life in a way that feels honest, not routine. We all listen to wildly different music, everything from country to death metal to vaporwave to math rock, so even when we’re aligned, we’re never coming at it from the exact same angle. That contrast keeps things interesting, and the joy of making something we like doing together does the rest. You’re inspired by films that blend the strange and the sincere, such as Eternal Sunshine, Synecdoche, New York, and 500 Days of Summer. What does cinema unlock in your songwriting that music alone can’t? Film gives us emotional architecture. Movies can bend reality, time, memory, and perspective in a way that mirrors how feelings actually work. Not always linear and rarely literal. That opens up different ways for a song to feel. We’re inspired by films that make sadness imaginative or surreal, where meaning shows up in symbols, pacing, and silence. Cinema reminds us that emotion can be portrayed indirectly and still be devastatingly clear.

Let’s be real: LA is full of artists building careers out of tiny apartments that cost as much as a mortgage in literally any other city. Bedroom studios, closet studios, converted-pantry studios, if there’s an outlet and WiFi, someone in LA has tracked vocals there. But out of all that chaos comes actual greatness, because LA artists are resourceful as hell. They build their dream setups one Amazon package at a time, and yes… we’re linking them, because a good home studio will  level up your entire workflow. Here are the 10 essentials every LA artist swears by, whether they’re honest about it or not. 1. A Microphone That Pretends It Costs More Than It Does If you take your vocals seriously, don’t record on your iPhone and pray. A real mic, condenser or dynamic, changes your entire sound. Condensers add warmth and detail; dynamics block out your loud neighbors and your roommate blending a smoothie while you’re tracking harmonies. A proper mic = cleaner files, fewer retakes, and way less crying in the mix session. We recommend this one , bestie. 2. Studio Monitors That Tell You the Truth (Even When It Hurts) Studio monitors are brutally honest. They reveal every messy frequency clash, every muddy kick, every “why did I think that synth was a good idea?” moment. LA artists swear by them because you need the truth before you upload your track to Spotify and get dragged on Reddit. A good pair trains your ears, sharpens your mixes, and gives you that clean, wide sound you hear in pro studios. We recommend this one , bestie. 3. A Ring Light Because Content Pays the Rent Too The modern artist is part musician, part cinematographer, part “sorry, I need to film this real quick.” Ring lights save you when your apartment lighting looks like a horror movie. They give you crisp, bright content for TikTok, IG Reels, behind-the-scenes clips, all the stuff your fans actually want to see. Also great for Zoom sessions when you’re trying to look like you slept. We recommend this one , bestie. 4. Acoustic Foam to Save Your Vocals AND Your Neighborly Karma LA apartments echo like abandoned warehouses. Acoustic foam tightens your sound, stops those gross reflections, and prevents your vocals from sounding like they were recorded in a stairwell. You don’t need a full vocal booth, just foam in the right places. It instantly makes your takes cleaner and your neighbors marginally less annoyed at you. We recommend this one , bestie. 5. A Pop Filter, Because Your P’s Are Aggressive Pop filters might look basic, but trust, they matter. They block harsh bursts of air so your vocals don’t sound like you’re aggressively spitting at the mic. Without one, your takes are ruined. With one, you’re giving clean, crisp, professional energy. It’s an inexpensive upgrade that fixes 90% of beginner recording issues. We recommend this one , bestie. 6. Vocal Spray: The Emotional Support Item Every Singer Has Whether you’re on your second take or take 52, your throat needs hydration. Vocal spray helps soothe your cords, reduce irritation, and keep your tone smooth even after a long session. Does it feel like magic? Sometimes. Is it basically a ritual at this point? Absolutely. LA singers keep one in their bags, cars, backpacks, everywhere. We recommend this one , bestie. 7. A MIDI Keyboard for Catching 3 A.M. Genius Every LA artist has had a moment where inspiration hits at a disrespectful hour. A MIDI keyboard lets you build chords, sketch melodies, experiment with sounds, and work fast before the idea disappears. Even if you only use a few keys, it makes your studio look legit and gives you a ton of creative control. We recommend this one , bestie. 8. Headphones That Let You Hear the Ugly Truth Up Close A good pair of closed-back studio headphones is non-negotiable. They give you the raw, unfiltered truth of your mix, clicks, breaths, timing issues, weird background noises, all the stuff you’d miss on laptop speakers. They’re also clutch when you can’t blast your monitors at 2 a.m. without getting evicted. We recommend this one , bestie. 9. An Audio Interface That Works Harder Than You Do Your audio interface is the backbone of your entire studio. It converts your voice and instruments into clean digital audio, keeps latency low, and stops your setup from glitching like it’s 2004. If your interface sucks, everything sucks. Get one that can handle your gear without frying your vibe. We recommend this one, bestie. 10. LED Lights Because Vibes Are Half the Job Let’s be honest, bright overhead lighting kills creativity. LED lights bring the vibes  your studio needs: moody red for rage tracks, purple for sad songs, blue for late-night existential crisis sessions. They make your space feel cinematic, inspiring, and way more fun to create in. We recommend this one, bestie. Your home studio doesn’t need to be fancy. It just needs to be functional, inspiring, and built with gear that helps you make better music, not frustrate you into taking another “break.” These essentials are the backbone of every legit LA bedroom setup, from rising artists to producers grinding their way into the scene. Upgrade smart. Create relentlessly. And remember: your next hit is one good take away.

Spotify is doing that thing it always does when the heat gets a little too hot: tossing out a new feature and hoping the headlines shift. This time, it’s in-app music videos, a flashy roll-out hitting the U.S. and Canada “soon,” meant to position Spotify as the new one-stop home for everything audio and visual. Cute. But let’s not pretend this is happening in a vacuum. This year, Spotify has been dragging a PR crisis like a ball and chain, from running ICE ads, to a wave of artist boycotts (Cindy Lee, King Gizzard, Deerhoof, Massive Attack… the list gets longer every week), to CEO Daniel Ek stepping down after backlash over his VC firm dumping nearly €600 million into a defense-tech company using AI for military targeting. Not exactly a feel-good year for the “music for everyone” company. So, of course, they’re flipping the script. Spotify says it’s bringing music videos into the app after testing the feature in 98 markets last year. No firm date yet, and no clarity on whether ad-tier users will get access or if this becomes yet another “premium perk.” The company framed the update as a win for independent musicians. And yes, in theory, giving indie artists more visual space inside the app could help them compete with the TikTok–YouTube machine. But the context… is loud. With Daniel Ek stepping out, Gustav Söderström and Alex Norström are set to take over as co-CEOs in January. Right on cue, Spotify has also announced a new partnership with the National Music Publishers’ Association (NMPA), allowing members to cut direct licensing deals with Spotify for expanded audiovisual rights, supposedly leading to bigger royalty payouts. “This new partnership with the NMPA will increase revenue for songwriters and independent publishers who are the heart of the industry,” Norström said. NMPA president David Israelite echoed the sentiment, praising the new revenue opportunities for indie publishers. And honestly? It sounds great. But the timing feels… strategic. When dozens of respected indie and alternative artists publicly pull their catalogs, it hurts, not just optically, but financially. Spotify knows the cultural backbone of music discovery doesn’t come from the big majors; it comes from independent artists, niche communities, and word-of-mouth cult followings. So rolling out a shiny “look, we care about indie creators!” music video feature right after a mass exodus and an ethics scandal? Feels less like innovation and more like damage control. The Bottom Line Will in-app music videos actually help indie artists? Maybe. Is Spotify trying to win back trust after a year of self-inflicted chaos? Absolutely. But indie artists are tired of performative support. They want transparency, stability, and fairer payouts, not a new feature designed to patch a bruised reputation. And this winter, the biggest question hanging over Spotify isn’t how good the new features are. It’s whether the artists who walked away are willing to come back.

Iluka takes over Moroccan Lounge on December 4 Look, the holidays in L.A. hit different. Half the city is escaping their families at concerts, the other half is dragging their out-of-town relatives to a show so they can prove we actually do  have culture beyond Erewhon. Luckily, the city delivered this year. From K-pop chaos to indie sleaze revival and flat-out legendary acts, these are the 10 must-see concerts closing out 2025 and carrying us straight into the new year. Let’s get into it. Iluka — Moroccan Lounge — Dec. 4 If desert-witch rock and emotional truth-bomb pop had a love child, it would be Iluka. She’s giving fierce lyricism, piano-driven heartbreak, and the kind of feminist bite mainstream pop wishes it had. Her new single “ Hard to Love Me ” scratches the current Adele-shaped hole in pop ballads, and this album release show could easily be her L.A. breakout moment. Catch her before she’s unavoidable. KIIS-FM Jingle Ball — Intuit Dome — Dec. 5 Yes, the Jingle Ball is chaotic. Yes, it’s also stacked. This year’s lineup mixes chart darlings Alex Warren, Jessie Murph, Zara Larsson, and Reneé Rapp, with a rare holy-sht* moment: Ejae, Audrey Nuna, and Rei Ami, aka the trio behind “Golden” from KPop Demon Hunters, a song currently eating the Grammy conversation alive. Add Conan Gray, Feid, Jackson Wang, Kid Laroi, and Sean Paul? L.A. loves drama, and this show is full of it. Ben Folds — Blue Note — Dec. 11 Freshly unattached from the Kennedy Center (you know why), Ben Folds is sliding into the Blue Note for a cozy, holiday-coded piano night. Expect songs from his anti-Christmas Christmas album Sleigher  plus deep-cut favorites. After the year L.A. just had, this is probably the softest landing we’re getting. Katseye — Hollywood Palladium — Dec. 13 Katseye is having a Grammy-level glow-up, and honestly? It’s deserved. They’re structured like a K-pop group but built for Western pop dominance, choreography tight, vocals sharper than your ex’s excuses. With the Recording Academy finally taking K-pop seriously, this show is going to feel like the start of something big. KROQ Almost Acoustic Christmas — Kia Forum — Dec. 13 The top of the lineup is a nostalgic fever dream. Evanescence, Papa Roach, Rise Against, Yellowcard, but don’t sleep on the undercard. Wet Leg (UK post-punk chaos sisters) and The Paradox (Atlanta pop-punk kids blowing up off a few viral clips) are the acts that make this show worth showing up early for. Expect mosh energy with a side of time-travel. Cameron Winter — Palace Theatre — Dec. 13 & 14 Fresh off an L.A. show attended by Bono, Beck, and Chappell Roan (yes, really), Geese frontman Cameron Winter is returning solo for two nights that already feel legendary. His album Heavy Metal is slacker-rock brilliance wrapped in art-school weirdness, and with Coachella on deck, these shows might be the last time he feels “underground.” 4 Non Blondes — Roxy — Dec. 15 “ What’s Up ?” refuses to die, and honestly, we’re better for it. Linda Perry resurrected the band this year for festivals, and now they’re bringing that energy to the Roxy ahead of a 2026 reunion album. With Cardi B, Lizzo, Nicki Minaj, and TikTok all fighting over the song’s legacy this year, this show hits like a full-circle moment for alt-rock history. Allman Betts Family Revival — Orpheum Theatre — Dec. 20 If you want musicianship , not spectacle, this is the pick. Devon Allman, Duane Betts, Berry Oakley, Alex Orbison… it’s basically a Southern-rock Avengers lineup. Add guest appearances from Robert Randolph, Dweezil Zappa, Jimmy Hall, and the Dickinson brothers, and you’ve got a holiday show built for guitar nerds and nostalgia junkies. Leon Thomas — The Wiltern — Dec. 22 & 23 Leon Thomas is in his Grammy-nominated era, and The Wiltern gets to host his victory lap. Mutt blends retro R&B, alt-soul, and the kind of songwriting flex only someone who’s worked with Ariana Grande and SZA can pull off. Expect theatrical vocals, real musicianship, and a crowd full of people who absolutely brag about knowing him “before this.” The Roots — Walt Disney Concert Hall — Dec. 31 If you want NYE plans worth bragging about, this is it. Questlove, Black Thought, a catalog deep enough to run two shows without repeats, and an L.A. crowd ready to lose it. Add Questlove’s roster of celebrity friends and the Disney Hall acoustics? This is the most musically elite way to end the year. Whether you’re trying to dodge your holiday obligations or drag your friends into one last sonic adventure before the year resets, L.A.’s end-of-year concert calendar is stacked enough to keep you out every night. Pick your show, pick your chaos, and let the noise carry you straight into 2026.

Let’s cut straight to it: modern dating is a circus, and a lot of people out here are clowns acting like they’re the main event. Asmi Aderay clearly got tired of the half-love, half-ghosting, half-effort era (yes, that’s too many halves, and that’s exactly the problem), so she wrote “Someone Real.” And honestly? It’s the anthem that every emotionally exhausted romantic needed yesterday. This isn’t some flimsy, butterflies-and-brunch pop fluff. This song is for the people who are done pretending that “it’s not that deep” when it actually is. Asmi comes in with a voice that sounds like longing, clarity, and a little bit of “don’t play with me” all rolled into one. Adult Contemporary Pop meets Pop/Rock, but with a sharp edge, elegant, but absolutely fed up. “Someone Real” basically says what a lot of us are afraid to admit: wanting genuine connection is not desperate, embarrassing, or old-fashioned. If anything, settling for the bare minimum is what’s embarrassing. Asmi’s vocals hit like an open diary entry from someone who refuses to be an optional extra in someone else’s life. There’s vulnerability, sure, but it’s served with backbone. She’s not crying on the bathroom floor, texting paragraphs. She’s choosing herself. And in a world where a lot of people are addicted to almost-love, that’s revolutionary. A recent Berklee College of Music graduate, Asmi Aderay, is no amateur. Her artistry is intentional, polished, and aimed right at the soft spots people try to hide. She sings for the romantics who still want to feel something, not just swipe something. Her music is drenched in self-worth, heartbreak, and emotional honesty, and clearly, listeners are resonating. With features on Breaking Sound Radio and rising airplay, shares, and saves, “Someone Real” pulled 1.2K streams in its first two weeks. Not bad for someone doing love songs in a world allergic to sincerity. If you’re tired of performative passion and people who want intimacy without accountability, this track hits home. Asmi Aderay is making music for grown feelings, not placeholder situationships, and thank God, because the bar has been underground. “Someone Real” is proof that romance isn’t dead; it’s just waiting for people who don’t run from their own hearts. Stream it. Feel it. And if it hits too hard… maybe text a therapist before texting your ex. Your quote draws a line between waiting for real love and self-respect. What moment in your life made you realize you were done accepting half-formed, half-present relationships? I think those standards were in me from a young age - honestly, since I was about fifteen. But they solidified once I actually lived through situations that hurt more than they should’ve. I realized I was giving too much and receiving too little, and that imbalance made me shrink myself just to keep something alive. That’s when it hit me: I’m worth more than half-presence and half-efforts. I stopped lowering my guard for people who hadn’t earned it. “Someone Real” doesn’t shame vulnerability; it defends it. Why do you think modern dating culture treats genuine emotion like a liability instead of a strength? A big part of it is technology - especially social media. People are trained to fall in love with what they see, not who someone actually is. Everything is so visual and instant that real emotion feels “inconvenient”. I admit I fell for it myself, and in the process, hurt myself way more than I expected. I even gave dating apps a fair chance just to check, and it played out exactly how I expected: quick connections, rarely any depth. I always encourage people to be social in the real world, make friends, build something naturally, and let love grow from there. You can feel chemistry in one glance, sure - but fall for who they are, not the image. You write for people who feel deeply in a world that rewards detachment. How do you protect your own heart while asking listeners to stay open with theirs? My heart is open too - that’s why I can write the way I do. The important message is not to abandon love altogether. Feeling deeply is a strength. Whether it’s with friends, family, or a partner, that softness is what makes us resilient. The key is to stay open, but move with intention: don’t give your heart away recklessly, don’t lose yourself trying to prove your worth, and only invest in people who give that same love back. And if someone pulls away because they can’t match your heart, let them go. One day, you’ll be proud you protected yourself. You’re a Berklee graduate with strong technical skills, but emotion leads your music. When you hit the studio, what wins: craft or instinct? For me, they move together. My instinct guides the emotion, and my training shapes how that emotion becomes music. I don’t see them as a battle - more like a partnership. Whatever I create has a purpose behind it. And once the song is out, people feel it based on their own stories, not mine. That’s the magic of it. Your song already has support from Breaking Sound Radio and early streaming traction. What does success look like for you beyond numbers? How do you know a song truly reached its people? Success, for me, is the day I’m touring full-time - that’s my biggest purpose. But beyond that, I look at impact. How is the song moving through the world? Are people talking about it, sharing it, connecting with the emotions behind it? Radio play, social media reactions, messages from listeners - those things show me whether a song has truly found its people. When someone feels seen because of something I created, that’s success.

Chris Strei does not just talk about redemption, he walks it every day. His new single, “ One Day at a Time ,” is not a polished sermon; it is a confession put to music. The Brantford-born singer-songwriter marks his fifth year of sobriety with something deeper than celebration. The track carries the weight of someone who has rebuilt their life brick by brick and knows the work is never finished. The sound sits somewhere between country folk grit and the quiet honesty of a church pew. There are echoes of Chris Stapleton and Tom Petty, yet Strei brings a spiritual core that refuses to pretend the darkness was not real. Produced by Iain McNally, with Randy Cooke of Smash Mouth on drums, the song feels crafted, not manufactured. Every line feels lived in, every chord grounded. What separates this from most recovery anthems is Strei’s refusal to divide faith and struggle. Scripture appears, but never as a lecture. He sings like someone who has cursed at heaven and leaned on it in the same breath. It plays like testimony, rough-edged and real. You can hear the relapse fears, the miracles, the nights he nearly broke, and the mornings he got up anyway. The central image of life as a mosaic of light and dark rings true because Strei does not pretend to have solved anything. Pain and peace coexist, and both have a place in the story. You do not need to share his faith for the message to land. “One Day at a Time” hits as a reminder that strength is not a moment, it is a choice you make again tomorrow. In a music world obsessed with glossy perfection, Strei’s sincerity feels rebellious. He is not chasing a trend. He is documenting a life. “One Day at a Time” is designed for anyone who needs a reason to stay, to breathe, and to try again. It is a song for heavy nights and fragile mornings, and it might be one you reach for when the world feels too sharp to hold. "One Day at a Time" feels deeply personal. What specific moment or realization inspired its creation?  The process for this song was quite fragmented. On my one-year sober anniversary, my Mother-in-law gave me a coin that says "One Day At A Time". Earlier this year, when I released my song "Somebody Else's Soul", I took a picture of the coin for the album art, but realized it wasn't the art for that song. I needed to write a song called "One Day At A Time"...although it still ended up not being the album art for this song either, just great inspiration. Often, after my small group at the time, I would stay late at the church and work on music, whether rehearsing, recording, or writing. One night, I was working with a verse I wrote in May 2023, "I've been on the wrong side of Heaven...", and as I continued to work with it, I found myself at the chorus. So I paraphrased a line from the Serenity Prayer that says, "Taking, as He did, this sinful world as it is, not as I would have it", and summarized it to say, "I won't take this world my way". Then I shot a video for it with Windecker Road Films, which led me to realize I needed to take this to my producer, Iain McNally, and make a full single of it.  How has your faith shaped your journey through sobriety and recovery?  In a way, my sobriety is one of the things my faith is built on. I tried many times in my 20s to quit or at least be more responsible about drinking. I stopped doing drugs when I started dating my wife in 2013, but drinking was my giant. I ended up with stomach and indigestion problems from the harder drinks I'd choose, and by the autumn of 2020, I was just getting bloated instead of even a buzz. Then, when I'd go to sleep, I'd get reflux and feel a weird body buzz in the morning. In September 2020, we started attending our church online. November 1st, 2020, was going to be our first time. I woke up from my worst night yet after only two tall cans throughout the evening before. I chose to bail on attending in person, and that was the day I gave it up. If the choice was between alcohol and God, it was an easy choice. When I look back, it was as if God called me to serve, but He needed me to be sober-minded. So, He healed me of that affliction, almost as a sign or wonder, which made so many people in the Bible believe 2,000 years ago. It's quite a blessing that it just lifted one day, so I can share my testimony and attempt to lead others with a clear mind.  You describe life as a "grand mosaic." How does that idea influence your approach to writing music?  I think my music actually proves my grand mosaic philosophy rather than the other way around, at least for my life. Some people have photo albums and home videos of different periods in their lives. Whether that's physical or on cloud storage, I have those too, but I also have songs that I've written about those moments and chapters. From being young and heartbroken to social struggles and various breakups, moving out of our first apartment, living like a wannabe country outlaw, welcoming and saying goodbye to our daughter, and then continuing to a faithful life and an even stronger relationship. I think the songs are another element that adds detail to mine. Some of my chapters are well-written, and others make me thankful I never published them. Regardless of how I feel, though, they still capture my growth as a person and songwriter, the various styles and skill levels I've explored, and the light and dark phases I've experienced. This is just the stuff we see as the main character in our story. Who knows what would be included if there were an actual, literal mosaic being made of moments in our lives. I imagine Buzz Music would have a really high-res image in the end after all the lives of musicians and their releases you've been a part of.  What was it like working with Iain McNally and Randy Cooke on this record?  Iain McNally is a great friend and mentor to have by my side. He produced my album "The Moonshine," which taught me a great amount about the recording process and also helped me finally grasp a proper singing technique. He's a great person for me to bring questions to, no matter how basic they may be, but we also have a great relationship as friends, which has given us lots of laughs during this project. I didn't really get to meet with Randy Cooke other than through email. He recorded the drums at a venue where he was playing in Kempten, Germany, but he was a professional and very easy to email back and forth with. As a millennial, I'm pretty excited to have the drummer of Smash Mouth on my track. I'm glad I'm much older doing this, so I was able to prevent being a fanboy or anything.  What message do you hope listeners take away from this song, especially those walking their own path toward healing?  I hope people find reassurance, perseverance, but most importantly, an opportunity for faith, from my testimony. I didn't really work to get sober; God changed my heart. Although I could have kept drinking and suffering through it, my heart was cleansed to make me feel it wasn't worth it, and I think that can be a great testimony of the miraculous, supernatural things that God can do. You hear of people being cured overnight of illness; I was cured overnight of alcoholism.  (I've been through some terrible things and things that I saw as terrible evil, yet it was something that was simply interrupting my peace and good times. It all depended on my perspective, and I'm a better person now through it all. In a way, the terrible things I've gone through in the past have given me peace later in life because I can say, "I've been through worse". I've even come to embrace hard times because, through my faith, I find strength, gratitude, comfort, and a constructive perspective. This allows me to look back on darker times and write a song that can hopefully help others realize that tomorrow can bring a sudden change for the better. While some changes take more work than others, some can be as simple as removing that element from your life and adding a healthier one, all because you've accepted the change of heart God is offering you. You never know where that one healthier choice can lead.)