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Genre-bending producer, songwriter, and one-man sonic wrecking crew Robert DeLong is stepping into the shadows with the deluxe edition of his 2024 album Playlist of DOOM . Dropping June 20 via Round Hill Records, After DARK explores the introspective, late-night version of DeLong’s already explosive alt-electronic universe. Led by the hard-hitting new single “SWITCHBLADE” featuring Luna Aura, the deluxe boasts eight new tracks that lean into gothic synths, glitchy textures, and emotionally raw songwriting. With collaborators like Mothica, Pahua, and LYELL in the mix, DeLong turns genre-hopping into an emotional art form—one that’s as reflective as it is relentlessly experimental. To celebrate the release, he’s bringing the new material to life at two free shows at El Cid in LA on June 19 and July 3, promising fans a dark, high-voltage preview of what's next. “SWITCHBLADE” is a massive, genre-twisting track—how did the collaboration with Luna Aura, Mothica, and Maize Olinger come together, and what did it unlock in you creatively? SWITCHBLADE was a long journey of a track with seemingly humble beginnings. Mckenzie (Mothica) and I have known each other for years, and so a few years back we decided to do a writing session together. She spoke very highly of Maize and so brought her in to help “topline” (ie, help write lyrics and melodies). The vibe was strong that day, so as they percolated on lyrical themes and melody, I started to construct a track based on some of the sonic references on my mind at that time - the synth bass and surfy guitar leads of Depeche Mode, the relentless thick drums of Panther Modern meets Nitzer Ebb, a sort of frenetic simplified drum and bass energy, and that “Terminator” sound (the sort of signature chug chug *chug that bridges the transitions between some of the sections.) Initially, I had no thoughts of singing on this tune, and we didn’t know who it was going to be for, but a couple of years later, I gave it a shot and realized it was in an interesting and intense singing range for me, and also definitely needed a featured vocalist. Luna Aura and I had had sort of vague contacts with each other previously (we had intended to work together at some point and had run into each other at a local bar), but her song “Candy Colored Daydream” had flitted across my phone at some point, I really dug it, I reached out, and the rest is history! She really crushed the performance on this song, and her vocals seemed to complete the storyline of the song for me. This deluxe edition dives into darker, more introspective territory—what does “After DARK” represent for you as an artist right now? These deluxe songs had mostly been floating around and were in contention for the initial “Playlist of DOOM” record, but for whatever reason, they may have felt too dark or abstract to be a good fit for the album, though they lived in the same universe. Once the idea of the deluxe record was spawned, it became apparent which songs would work in this release. The “After DARK” theme was seemingly obvious - these songs seemed to all touch either on dark subject matter or had explicit references to the word “dark”, and the idea that the deluxe record was like the sort of seedy after-party to the shimmering daytime of the initial record was born. Tracks like “soft boy” and “Deserve It All” show two very different emotional textures. How do you balance vulnerability with high-energy production? To me, high-energy production is my baseline heartbeat, and contrasting that with vulnerable lyrics is a good way to Trojan horse a message or feeling into the listener’s psyche without them realizing it. I myself don’t often realize what a song’s lyrics are dancing around until a few listens in, but by that point, the message has crept into my mind in a way I can’t refute. This has almost always been my modus operandi when writing songs, and I think it comes from a place of growing up listening to really sad music that was slow and dreary, and later realizing that I do like to dance and freak out, but I still gravitate towards introspective or existential lyrical themes. Pairing these two things together is a delicate balancing act, though I’m not sure I would know how to do anything else at this point. You’ve been known for your experimental live setup using game controllers and MIDI triggers. How are you evolving that experience for this new era? The live show is constantly evolving - in the past few years, I have been heavily featuring a device called a “Laser Harp”, which shoots lasers towards the ceiling, and which I break the lasers with paddles, and each laser creates a sound. It’s hard to describe, but it’s quite the spectacle! Going into the release of “Playlist of DOOM: After DARK”, I am doing a couple of free shows in LA at El Cid on June 19th and July 3rd, in which I will be experimenting with some new live tricks, as well as opening the show up for more improvisation. You’ve collaborated with artists across the genre spectrum—from K.Flay to Pahua. What draws you to a potential collab , and who’s still on your bucket list? I’m drawn to collaborators who have a unique or specific voice in some way, both in the literal sense of how they sing, but also in the sense of perspective and vibe. There’s no plan with these things, really - I am very open and a fan of every genre, and if someone cool piques my interest or is sent my way by someone I work with, I am generally down to give it a try. As far as bucket list - right now I really love La Lom, Sextile, Pachyman, Sully (the jungliest, not the rapper), Logic1000, and even Samantha Crain - these are wildly disparate artists, but I think it would be amazing to collaborate with any of them. Also, the unattainable bucket list includes David Byrne, Ben Gibbard, Earl Sweatshirt, Juan Atkins, Kraftwerk, and, of course, Adele.

With her haunting new single "Mona Lisa Smile,"  Nashville-based singer-songwriter Caitlin Quisenberry trades polished perfection for raw vulnerability. What starts as a cinematic ballad quickly reveals itself as a quiet act of rebellion against people-pleasing, emotional suppression, and the pressure to perform even in private. In this candid interview, Caitlin opens up about the moment she realized she was living behind a smile, how that realization shaped her breakup and her music, and why choosing yourself is the bravest thing you can do. "Mona Lisa Smile" feels like a deeply personal and emotional release. What was going through your mind the moment you heard the final mix for the first time? When I received the final mix, I was still in my relationship, but something shifted the moment I heard it. As the lyrics played, especially "Paint on that face and stand in that spotlight with your stoic grace," I felt like I was hearing my own truth for the first time. That's when I realized I had been performing, not just on stage, but in my relationship too, smiling through the cracks, trying to keep the peace, trying to be okay when I wasn't. That moment of clarity led to the breakup. The song said what I hadn't been able to admit yet: it was time to choose myself. You've described realizing you were 'performing' in your relationship. How did that realization shape the way you approach your music now? It made me braver. I don't want to write anything that isn't honest anymore. That moment showed me how easy it is to lose yourself trying to be what someone else wants. Now, I write from the mess, not just the polished parts. That's where the real connection happens. The lyrics in this song are so cinematic. Do you tend to write visually when you're creating, almost like scoring a moment in your life? Totally. I think in scenes. When I wrote this song, I saw a spotlight, a woman frozen in it, smiling while quietly falling apart. Music has always felt like my way of scoring life's hardest moments, like putting them on screen so I can step back and say, Okay, that's what that was. After taking such a raw emotional risk on this track, what does healing or empowerment look like for you now? It looks like choosing myself. It's not about being fearless; it's about being real. Letting go of needing to please everyone and owning what I feel, even when it's messy. That's where the healing starts. What do you hope fans walk away feeling after listening to "Mona Lisa Smile"—especially those who are also putting on brave faces right now? I hope they feel seen. Like they don't have to fake it all the time. There's strength in vulnerability, even when you're barely holding it together. This song is for anyone who's smiled through pain and still showed up anyway. That's real courage. Instagram

Barcelona-born indie artist Marta Knight is entering a whole new era of sound and self with her latest EP, ' Unbothered ,' out now via La Castanya . Produced by Pau Riutort (FKA Twigs, Bad Gyal), the four-track project is a reflective, emotionally raw collection that blends shimmering indie rock with experimental songwriting and bilingual intimacy. Anchored by the standout single “Killing Time,” which effortlessly shifts between English and Spanish, Unbothered is a mirror held up to the self—a portrait of self-acceptance, healing, and growth. It marks a sonic shift for Marta, whose genre-blurring sound now echoes everything from Snail Mail to SZA , while staying rooted in her own timeless approach to pop. As she continues to tour Spain with global plans underway, we caught up with Marta Knight to talk evolution, insecurities, and the art of letting go. “Killing Time” starts as a critique and ends in deep self-reflection . W as there a specific moment or experience that inspired that lyrical shift? The song itself, as I was writing it, made me realize that as I was thinking of somebody else, I was also uncovering things about myself that I wasn't aware of. It was cathartic in a sense, writing about the parts of myself I like less and exposing vulnerable, even slightly embarrassing thoughts, but disguising them as a critique of someone else. It was a shift that happened naturally, and it helped me to get to know myself better. The EP blends English and Spanish so naturally. How do you decide which language to write in, and what emotional role does each one play in your songwriting? I don’t get to decide much; the songs themselves and how I want to communicate in them decide which language to pick. Emotionally, I do notice a huge difference when writing in each language - Spanish is more difficult to write in because it’s more direct and honest for me, but at the same time, it forces me to get out of my comfort zone, and I enjoy that feeling. On the other hand, in English, I can easily express thoughts that I might not be as comfortable sharing otherwise. Phonetically, it flows more naturally when I sing, which makes it easier for me to shape melodies and connect sentences. You’ve opened for artists like Men I Trust and Julien Baker . H ow have those experiences shaped the artist you are today? It’s been a milestone in my career because they are artists I’d dreamed about opening for when I was younger. To expose my music to their audience has been very significant for my career, but, even more so, it has made me incredibly grateful for the places where my music can take me. Unbothered feels like a personal turning point. What does being “unbothered” mean to you now, versus when you started writing the EP? “Unbothered” means accepting oneself even in times when you might not be your best self or the person you would like to be the most. It’s about leaving perfectionism and self-comparison aside and allowing yourself to just be. I had always thought that self-love meant having unconditional nice thoughts about oneself and seeing oneself as flawless, but as I was writing the EP, I realized it is more about being self-aware and still making the choice to team up with yourself. What’s one lesson or realization you hope listeners walk away with after hearing this project? I hope they feel lighter, with a less heavy load on their shoulders, and a bit more comfortable in their own skin. I also encourage them to take things less seriously and to remember that the relationship with oneself is a lifelong journey and that there is plenty of time left.

A no-BS checklist to figure out if your “team” is a team or just a front-row seat to your hustle. Let’s start with the hard truth most artists learn the long way: just because someone wants to manage you doesn’t mean they should. The word “manager” sounds official. Strategic. Powerful. But in the independent music world, it can also be vague, performative, and straight-up misleading. Too many talented artists are dragging dead weight, someone who’s not building, not connecting, not negotiating, not leading. They’re watching you grind, post, perform, and pitch while they tell people they’re your manager like it’s a personality trait. So here’s the question: Is your manager managing, or are they just along for the ride? First, What Should a Manager Be Doing? A real manager wears many hats. And no, “being supportive” isn’t enough. They don’t need to do everything, but they should be doing something meaningful regularly. The basics: Setting short and long-term career goals with you Pitching to venues, blogs, playlists, sync teams, labels, and media Handling logistics for shows, tours, and campaigns Overseeing business stuff like budgets, splits, contracts, and timelines Connecting you with producers, collaborators, and visual creatives Being proactive when things stall, not just reactive when you panic And most importantly, a manager should move your career forward. Not babysit it. Do not mirror your excitement. Not waiting for you to send ideas. Red Flag Checklist: Are They Just Hanging On? Go through this list. Be honest. If more than a few apply, you might have a fan, not a manager. You’re the one pitching everything and CCing them to make it “look official.” They haven’t brought you one new opportunity this quarter They post more about your wins than help create them They don’t know what PRO you’re registered with You’ve had to explain to them what a distributor is Every idea starts with “you should” and ends with you doing it They go ghost when there’s actual work to do, but they’re front and center for the photos They “love your sound” but have no clue what your career lane is They don’t track your data, your open rates, or your stream sources They’ve said, “Let’s just manifest it,” more times than they’ve emailed someone on your behalf Let’s Be Real: Why This Happens Most artists don’t have access to experienced managers. You grow up together. You meet at a show. They believe in you. That’s beautiful. But belief doesn’t build careers. Execution does. Sometimes, they say, “I got you,” because they genuinely want to help but lack the necessary skills or time. Sometimes, they appreciate the prestige of managing an artist. And sometimes, they don’t want you to win without them. But your career is not a charity. And you don’t owe anyone your potential. What to Look For Instead The best managers aren’t chasing clout. They’re chasing leverage. They ask questions. They learn your metrics. They make calls. They put in sweat equity even when no one’s watching. They don’t need to know everything, just enough to get you to the next step, and be humble enough to bring in others when they don’t. Green flags: They actively research and reach out to blogs, brands, playlists, or venues They send structured feedback on releases, assets, and plans They schedule check-ins, not just vibe checks They listen—like really listen—to what you want They say, “I’ll handle that,” and do They know how to say, “I don’t know, but I’ll find out.” How to Check Them Without Burning the Bridge This part’s hard. Especially when it’s your friend or someone who has helped you in the past. But it’s your career. Here’s how to approach it: Set a meeting. Not a text. Not a rant. A real sit-down Share your goals. Lay out where you want to be in 6 to 12 months Ask: “How do you see yourself helping me get there?” Ask for a simple 30-60-90-day plan. What they’ll own. What you’ll own Be open but clear. If they can’t meet the moment, thank them and move on. Final Thoughts Managers are supposed to manage. If you’re doing all the managing, it might be time to fire your “manager.” This isn’t about ego. It’s about protecting your trajectory. You only get so many chances to build momentum. If your team isn’t building with you, they’re in the way. So take stock. Be honest. And remember: It’s better to have no manager than one who manages nothing.

In the heart of Los Angeles, behind the closed doors of late-night studio sessions and creative chaos, Maëva Karen is crafting something much bigger than music; she’s building a world. One that pulses with sensuality, strength, and unfiltered emotion. A place where freedom isn’t just a concept, it’s a rhythm. And for the rising pop/R&B artist with over 130K followers already tuning in, that rhythm is starting to shake the ground. Maëva is the kind of artist who doesn’t just want to make songs; she wants to make you feel something. Born with a multicultural perspective and fueled by a background in visual and creative arts, her music blends the raw edges of R&B with the polish of pop and the heartbeat of afro-influenced production. It’s intimate and powerful, soft and sharp — and always unmistakably her. “ Everything I do is about embracing duality,” she says. “Sensuality and strength. Confidence and vulnerability. I want people to feel like they can be all of it — at once .” Inspired by the likes of Beyoncé, Summer Walker, Tinashe, and Rihanna, Maëva’s work explores themes of empowered femininity, emotional honesty, and self-discovery. But while she shares the glamorous polish of her influences, she’s not afraid to strip it down and get real. Whether she’s posting raw, behind-the-scenes moments or teasing new sounds from the studio, she’s cultivating a community that values authenticity as much as artistry. And right now, that artistry is in full bloom. With a string of releases in the pipeline and creative partnerships taking shape in the Los Angeles music scene, Maëva is quietly but powerfully stepping into her era. There’s no gimmick here. Just a woman who knows who she is and is unapologetically becoming. “ I want people to feel they can embrace all their sides, without limitations ,” she says. “ My message is about embodying freedom of expression, whether through music, style, or attitude. ” You're building such a rich visual and sonic world — what does "artistic freedom" mean to you right now, and how are you bringing that to life? Artistic freedom, to me, means the ability to create without limits to express the full range of who I am as a woman, an artist, and a storyteller. Right now, it’s about daring to show up exactly as I am: sensual, confident, and always evolving. I bring that to life by crafting a universe that feels immersive and magnetic through sound, visuals, and energy. Everything is intentional. I want people to step into my world and feel something they’ve never felt before. You’ve mentioned embracing duality in strength, sensuality, and vulnerability. How does that show up in the songs you’re currently working on? I think it’s all about contrast. The songs I’m working on right now are sexy, fearless, and aggressive in a beautiful way, but always with emotion behind them. I want people to feel both the heat and the heart. It’s like walking into a room and owning it, not by shouting but by radiating something unshakable. That duality makes the music magnetic: it’s powerful, it’s vibrant Your sound is shaped by pop, R&B, and Afro influences. What draws you to those styles, and how do you keep your own voice at the center? These styles speak to different parts of me. Pop gives me space to be playful and cinematic, R&B lets me pour my soul into melodies, and Afro rhythms bring this deep, joyful energy that feels like home. But above all, I make sure my voice leads the way. Every song starts with a feeling, and I let that guide everything. That’s how I stay true to myself. With a growing online community and real momentum in the studio, how are you balancing the personal and public sides of your journey? Right now, I’m fully focused on building something meaningful. I’m in the studio constantly, developing my sound and refining my vision. So to be honest, I don’t really have a personal life at the moment, and I’m okay with that. I’m in a phase where I’m giving it my all, and it’s exciting. I’m creating, connecting, and sharing, and I feel like I’m exactly where I need to be. The energy is only going up from here. What do you hope people feel the first time they step into your world — through your music, your visuals, or your message? I want them to feel powerful. I want them to hear something they’ve never heard before something that lights a fire inside. Whether it’s a solar emotion that makes you feel radiant, or a darker one that pushes you to reclaim your strength, I want my music to move people. My world is about emotions, elevation, and presence. If someone listens and suddenly feels more alive, more confident, more in control, that’s everything.

Let’s be real—most pop songs want you to feel good.  Belle McKee  wants you to feel everything. With her new EP ' CYNIC ,' the New York-born, Nashville-based singer-songwriter delivers four razor-sharp tracks that trade gloss for grit, and positivity for piercing self-awareness. Across themes of jealousy, revenge, restlessness, and raw relationship tension, Belle doesn’t shy away from the parts of herself, and all of us, that usually get labeled too much. What makes 'CYNIC' stand out isn’t just the emotional range. It’s how articulate that range becomes in Belle’s hands. Every lyric lands with intention. Every metaphor is doing its best. It’s Billie Eilish-level brooding meets Gracie Abrams-style intimacy, with just enough bite to make it hit harder than you'd expect from such a graceful delivery. The EP opens with “PASSENGER” and “FINGERPRINTS”, two revenge-tinged pop tracks that unpack what it feels like to be hurt, and then let the rage out with style. These aren’t chaotic scream-into-the-void moments. They’re methodical, lyrical, and smart. There’s power in Belle’s restraint. She knows exactly when to go soft, when to twist the knife, and when to let the chorus explode. By track 3, “TOURIST,” the tone shifts. Suddenly, it’s not about the other person. It’s about you. Fear of commitment, the haunting idea that maybe you’re not built for roots, the quiet panic of seeing your life take shape before you’re ready, it’s all here, delicately disguised in soft vocals and devastating one-liners. And then there's “NERVE,” the final track. If the first half of the EP was about lashing out, this one feels like the emotional hangover. It’s vulnerable, questioning, and a bit sad. But it’s also fearless in its honesty. What ties 'CYNIC' together isn’t just Belle’s polished vocal delivery or smart pop production; it’s the emotional DNA running through every track. These songs don’t pretend to be perfect. They lean into the mess, the parts of ourselves we try to hide because they’re not “palatable.” Jealousy. Insecurity. Fear of settling. Emotional damage that doesn’t wrap up cleanly. And Belle says: Yep. That’s me. Let’s talk about it. Having already racked up songwriting awards, showcases, and a spot in Belmont’s elite Songwriter’s program (which she graduated from at just 19, Summa Cum Laude no less), Belle McKee is clearly not here to play games. She’s here to write the truth, whether it’s pretty or not. And in doing so, she’s giving Gen Z, and really, anyone who's ever hated themselves for feeling too deeply, a place to breathe. 'CYNIC' is a super emotionally layered project. Was there a specific moment or shift in your life that inspired this EP’s concept? I don’t think there was one specific moment that inspired the concept of this EP—it was more of just me wanting to switch up the topics that I normally sing about. Instead of approaching heartbreak in a sweet or wholesome manner, my co-writers and I focused more on the anger, resentment, and frustration that can come after the initial grief stage of wanting him back is over. “PASSENGER,” for instance, is all about hoping your ex ends up alone—the literal opposite of “wishing them the best." “Tourist” feels like such a tender but brutal reflection on fear of commitment. What’s your personal relationship with the idea of “settling down”? “TOURIST” was sort of a funny story for me to write…I’ve been in a happy, long-term relationship for over three years now, so in my day-to-day life, I really don’t relate to the fear of committing to a person. I’m very trusting. A ton of my friends wrestle with these ideas, though, and I tried to channel some of what they’ve told me about being scared to settle down with one person. This song resonates with me in a more literal sense, too, especially when it comes to leaving my small town and moving away to a city like Nashville. When I’m traveling back and forth between the two, it can sometimes feel like neither place is truly “home” anymore. I thought this was such a universal concept—one that anyone college-aged can understand and relate to. Revenge tracks like “Passenger” and “Fingerprints” hit hard without feeling petty. How do you balance emotional intensity with lyrical control? When we were writing the first two tracks of the EP, “PASSENGER” and “FINGERPRINTS,” my co-writers and I started off with just a catchy title or hook. This allowed us to decide later on in the session what sort of feeling we wanted to convey to the listener. During a writing session, especially when the song is intended to be used for my artist project, I often lean towards sarcastic or sassy lyrics. That’s who I am in real life, so there’s something really raw and honest about keeping those elements in a song. But if these ideas weren’t balanced out with more vulnerable, heartfelt lyrics, I think they could easily come off as petty. Some artists who I think pull this juxtaposition off really well are Sabrina Carpenter and Gracie Abrams, two of my biggest influences in songwriting. You’ve had an impressive journey through songwriting camps and showcases. How has all that industry experience shaped how you write for yourself versus others? Thank you! I think, above all, these experiences (especially the songwriting camps) have given me practice writing with other people. Over time, working collaboratively has taught me how important it is to ask questions. When I’m writing for myself, I just write whatever I feel. But when I’m not the artist in the writing room and am writing for someone else, it can be so helpful to ask things as simple as, “What do you want to say?” or, “Would you say that to somebody in real life?” This way, you can get on the same wavelength, share the same vision, and create something that neither person would have been able to create on their own. It’s all about finding the message and story that exists behind the song. What do you want listeners to feel, especially younger fans who might be experiencing envy, fear, or insecurity for the first time in a big way? I hope that listeners, especially younger ones, feel understood when they listen to these songs. When I’m struggling with something like envy or insecurity, which is a pretty constant thing (especially in the music industry), it’s so comforting to know that other people have felt that same way, too—that there’s not something inherently “wrong” with me for feeling that way. Shedding light on these less talked-about emotions can help more and more people feel seen in their struggles, encouraging them to be open and honest with what they’re experiencing.

It's not every day an icon drops an album. Kat Von D has always been a force to be reckoned with, whether in the tattoo or beauty world. And now, she's about to embark on a UK/EU tour in support of her sophomore album, My Side of the Mountain. The album takes her artistry to a whole new level and serves as a heartfelt ode to the misfits, romantics, and anyone who’s ever felt like an outsider. Inspired by the 1959 novel of the same name, the album digs deep into themes of resilience and personal growth. "There's a comfort in dreaming of escapism, sure. But this album isn't about that. It's about confronting the shit we don't want to face, accepting the things we can't control, and fighting for the things that matter,"  Von D wrote on Instagram. With the previously released single “ Truth in Reverse " to the electrifying Spanish ballad " Por Ti ," it's clear Kat is entering her music icon era. While her debut album, Love Made Me Do It , was a sweet taste, My Side Of The Mountain  serves the whole pie. Be sure to catch Kat Von D on tour this June, featuring Prayers and other special guests. 4/June - Madrid, Spain - Mon 5/June - Barcelona, Spain - Salamandra 7/June - Pinarella di Cervia, Italy - Rock Planet 8/June - Milan, Italy - Santeria Toscana 31 9/June - Munich, Germany - Technikum 11/June - Budapest, Hungary - A38 Ship 12/June - Warsaw, Poland - Stodola 13/June - Hradec Králové, Czech Republic - Rock For People Festival 15/June - Frankfurt, Germany - Batschkapp 16/June - Paris, France - Alhambra 17/June - London, UK - Scala 19/June - Southampton, UK - Engine Rooms 20/June - Manchester, UK - Academy 2 23/June - Utrecht, Netherlands - TivoliVredenburg 25/June - Hamburg, Germany - Gruenspan 27/June - Oslo, Norway - Tons of Rock 28/June - Gothenburg, Sweden - Liseberg Tivoli-Lila Scen Tickets are available here . Read on for our exclusive interview with Kat Von D. A warm welcome to BUZZMUSIC, Kat! It's no secret that you're a tattoo connoisseur and beauty mogul. Now that you're releasing your sophomore album, we have to ask. What keeps your creative juices flowing? There’s never a shortage of things to be inspired by, whether good or bad.  I tend to typically write about struggles — and sadly, there’s never a shortage of those, too!  You mentioned that the novel My Side of the Mountain  deeply impacted you as a child. What inspired you to name the new record after it? Why did it seem like an appropriate choice? That novel is about a boy who runs away from home to live in harmony with nature in the middle of the woods.  We recently made a huge move, leaving Los Angeles for rural Indiana. Carving out a little corner of “my side of the mountain” is not just a physical act. The album is about finding your own home in a lonely world.   What would you say is the biggest difference between your debut album, Love Made Me Do It,  and your new project, My Side Of The Mountain —whether in your sound, style, or lyrical themes? Well, I teamed up with a new set of songwriters that really helped push me both lyrically and vocally as well.   I still love and will always appreciate my first album, but this new album is a little harder hitting, making it so enjoyable to sing as well as perform live.  You’ve always been open about your personal journey, and My Side of the Mountain  feels like a raw journey through inner struggles. Is there a particular track on the album that felt especially cathartic to create? “Set Myself On Fire” probably hits home the most for me for many personal reasons.   Your song “Por Ti”  from My Side of the Mountain  is a truly stunning Spanish ballad. Are you a fan of Latin music? What inspired you to create such an immersive love song in a different language? My Latin heritage plays a big part of my creativity and always has.  I actually prefer singing in Spanish over English. My voice changes in a certain way that I can hear in my head. I’m actually looking forward to writing more songs in the near future.

Photo:Gudrun Wai-Gunnarsson If you’re not already tapped into Lockimara , now’s the time. The Toronto-based project led by Nicholas Gay just dropped a genre-blurring, emotionally layered album called A Vision Again, out now via play dead and Homie Shit Mag. Alongside the release comes a video for the title track, a visual that’s just as disorienting and hypnotic as the music itself. Built on a foundation of shoegaze haze, folky sincerity, and digital noise, A Vision Again doesn’t stick to one lane, it blows up the whole highway. One minute you’re floating in ambient synths, the next you’re hit with glitchy percussion and blown-out guitar riffs. But somehow, it all feels cohesive. That’s the magic of Lockimara: chaos in form, clarity in feeling. The title track sets the tone, featuring pitched-up vocals and jarring yet intentional production choices that never feel like a gimmick. Directed by Kai Trotz-Motayne, the video captures the same mood, fractured but focused, dreamy but grounded. It’s weird in the best way. Tracks like “Halo” and “Bible” swing from digital shoegaze to country-laced folk without warning, but the transitions never feel forced. Gay’s voice, raw, unfiltered, and occasionally soaked in autotune, acts as the glue. Whether he’s whispering into reverb or shouting over distorted drum loops, the emotion always lands. What really makes A Vision Again stick is that it’s not trying to be trendy. It’s personal. It’s reflective. It’s weird. Gay wrote this album after losing his grip on music during the pandemic and clawing his way back to the heart of it, not the industry, not the clout, just songwriting. It shows. “This album is about waking up again, creatively and emotionally. It’s me getting back to what I love without needing it to be perfect.” Started in the Montreal DIY scene and now reborn in Vancouver, Lockimara isn’t just a project, it’s a lifeline. With nods to artists like Spirit of the Beehive, Alex G, and Caroline Polachek, this record doesn’t mimic, it mutates. Acoustic guitars tangle with warped vocals. Shoegaze collides with folk. It’s not clean, but it’s intentional. A Vision Again is messy in all the right ways. And that’s what makes it one of the most interesting underground releases of 2025. “A Vision Again” feels emotionally raw and sonically chaotic in the best way. What was the headspace you were in while making this album, and how did that shape its sound? I cycled through a few different headspaces during the process of the album. I think it started with a sense of calm determination to just make anything, which was quickly pushed aside by a strong sense of ambition as I started to make and discover more and more songs that I fell in love with. From there, ambition turned to exhaustion at some later stage, when I started to understand the enormity of trying to see a 14-song album through from start to finish as a bedroom artist. That being said, I shouldn’t make it sound like I made it all on my own; I had a lot of support from friends and my family that helped make this possible. All of that is to say, however, I think that the emotional turbulence of making the album is reflected in the songs. My subconscious was trying to express different things at different points, and you can hear that in the tastes of the production and melodies of songs written in the earlier days of the album, compared to those I wrote later on. You blend so many styles — from folk and shoegaze to glitchy experimental pop. Was that a conscious choice, or did it evolve naturally while writing? I think it was a mix of conscious choice and natural evolution. I listen to an eclectic mix of genres and artists, and I think I’ve always found it hard to stick to one genre, even within a song. Within a given week, I would find myself listening to shoegaze and thinking “what would it sound like if I tried to write something like this?” and then listening to folk and finding so many ideas that I wanted to also realize. It definitely got me into a situation where I had all of these songs that I wanted to package together somehow, but I wasn’t sure if it would actually work. The only tangible glue I could discern between them was just that I had made them, which I hoped would end up being enough. You’ve talked about losing your connection to music during the pandemic. What was the moment that made you want to start creating again? I think it was in 2022, when I was hearing music that others were starting to release after their own Covid hiatuses. One example that comes to mind is listening to Boat Songs by MJ Lendermen the spring it came out and feeling totally inspired by the simultaneous genius and relatability of songs like “You are every girl to me.” I think in starting to feel inspired again I also realized the time I had lost, which turned into a sense of urgency. I actually wrote and recorded an EP after that, which I eventually overhauled into the album. None of those first songs are on the album, and I never imagined it would be so long before I actually put something out. The title track and video are both beautifully disorienting. What’s the story or emotion behind that specific song, and how did the visual concept come together? The music for A Vision Again came quickly to me. I was entering a phase of experimenting with fusing beats and electronic production with acoustic guitar and folkier rhythms. From there, both parts emerged in one evening. I don’t totally remember when the lyrics came together for me after that, but they’re some of my favorite lyrics from the album now. For me, the song really became about capturing the elusive feeling of peace that one has in moments of perceived clairvoyance. Where the future appears visible and fated. The visuals became a project of trying to capture that feeling. At the same time, I had been excited for some time about trying to collaborate with a contemporary dancer for any of my songs, and so when that came together, I started to work with a friend, Kai Trotz-Motayne, on making that into a video. Lockimara has been evolving for almost a decade now. What do you want this new era to represent — both for longtime listeners and for people just discovering your work? I think in a lot of ways I want this album to feel like a starting over. I have so much love for all the music that I made with Lockimara and the multiple interactions of the band in Montreal, but the band also started before COVID and kind of ended during COVID. So with a few years of separation, this revival of the project feels like a new project to me in many ways, on e where I’m much more focused and driven. In that vein, I want this album to be seen as the first of many more to come, as well as the initial exploration of many more sounds to be discovered.

When self-doubt creeps in, L2B doesn’t fold; he fires back with bars. Since 2014, L2B (aka Luke) has been grinding in the shadows and shining in the spotlight, stacking millions of plays across YouTube, Soundcloud, and more. From New Haven to Hollywood to Harlem, this rapper’s journey has been anything but linear, but that’s exactly what forged his razor-sharp storytelling and fearless wit. After three mixtapes and a critically acclaimed debut album, he’s now gearing up for his fifth project, The Gallery. And the new single? It’s a statement. “ DAZED ” dives into the trenches of the creative mind, the highs, the self-doubt, the moments you question if it’s even worth it. The hook doesn’t sugarcoat it. Sometimes you feel like giving up. Sometimes you wonder why you started in the first place. But the verses? They don’t just pull you back from the edge; they remind you why you fell in love with the hustle in the first place. “I like to keep one foot on the ground with my head in the clouds.. It's okay to feel both ways.” That balance is the beating heart of "DAZED." It’s not just a track, it’s an anthem for every artist, every dreamer, and every nine-to-fiver fighting to keep their spark alive. L2B doesn’t pretend to have all the answers. Instead, he delivers raw, unfiltered truth and lets the beats carry the weight of resilience. "We have to build ourselves back up sometimes. This song is my reminder that loving yourself is the best way to love everyone around you as well.” As The Gallery looms on the horizon, “DAZED” sets the tone: this isn’t just music. It’s therapy. It’s battle cries. It’s the sound of someone who’s been knocked down and still chose to hit record. “DAZED” hits deep for anyone who's felt stuck chasing a dream—what was the breaking point that inspired you to write it? I'm not sure there was a breaking point specifically. That feeling of being stuck, needing better luck, comes and goes. I've battled depression throughout my life, and I used to think that I overcame it, in my teens, but I'm not sure it ever goes away. I think it's about learning the power of changing your mindset, adapting, and seeing the positive light in things, even if it's only fantasy for now. That fantasy, or blind faith, carries me back to the possibilities of it all. I'm forever grateful to have this creative outlet because I have no clue who or where I'd be without it. Your hook captures raw vulnerability, while the verses fight back with confidence. How do you personally balance those highs and lows as an artist? It can be tough going through the highs and lows. I think most artists have that underlying feeling of what else can I do, or what else do I need to get that exposure for my work? How can I get that recognition? Is it even worth it? I recently had a song pulled from streaming because it got placed on an artificial playlist without my control. All of that work, time, and financial investment was just quickly stripped away from me, and it hurt. It's my art, and someone else just regulated it. The only way I could move on was to just continue creating more. Looking back at your journey from New Haven to Harlem, how have those cities shaped the storyteller you are today? Growing up in New Haven shaped a lot of who I am. I was the white kid from the hood, who wasn't taken seriously until he rapped. I was supported and protected because people believed in me, but I was around a lot of gangs, guns, and drugs, too. I've lost good friends in New Haven, and there's a trauma from that city that stays with me. But I'll always love it and see it as home. Living in Hollywood, California, and then Harlem, New York, really gave me independence as an adult. Hollywood showed me how dreams are made and how important networking can be. Harlem brought culture and authenticity. My wife and I had our son in Harlem, so I really learned how to be a provider and protector for my family. All of those experiences offered me a lot of creative content that I'm probably still processing and putting into my work today. You’ve built a catalog that’s both relatable and unapologetically honest. What’s been the hardest truth you’ve had to put into a song so far? I always go back to my first mixtape, there's a tribute song to a friend of mine, Maurice, we knew him as Moe Milly. He was killed in a gang beef, and that shit wasn't worth his life. That was my first real loss, I think, and I just remember crying while writing that song, because I couldn't believe it, and wished I could've done something. I listen to that song now and have no memory of creating it, really.. Like I blacked out. The stories I tell in that song are all very real memories.. The writing of it is so fluid and honest that I almost envy how well I did it now, and I'm not sure if I can capture that again. But maybe I'm not supposed to. With The Gallery on the way, what can fans expect—are we getting more introspection, or are you switching the vibe up this time? They can definitely expect more storytelling, more introspection, and more experimentation. At heart, I am and always will be a hip-hop artist. It's how I write. I'm also inspired by a lot of genres like rock, pop, afrobeats, reggaeton, house music, because you hear different melodies and formulas of how a song is made. There's so much great music out there that inspires me. Right now, I'm kind of in a mode of challenging myself to see how my writing could fit the mold of different song structures. So you may hear songs that sound totally different from the last one, even genre-wise. I'm really having fun and enjoying the ride, though, and at this point, that's what matters to me.

Some records feel like postcards. Others feel like full-on pilgrimages. With the release of “ Sweet Jesus Knows ,” the first single from Anchor & Braille ’s upcoming album NEW MEXICO, Stephen Christian has given us a preview of something much bigger than just a collection of songs, this is a love letter to place, to memory, and to the parts of ourselves we only find when we get a little lost. The former Anberlin frontman has never been a stranger to emotional depth or existential honesty. But NEW MEXICO, due July 25 via Equal Vision Records, takes that inner dialogue to new terrain. Inspired by the time Christian spent living in a small town in New Mexico after leaving Florida, the album is a sonic journey through the high desert of human thought. Fourteen tracks long, it’s as much about geography as it is about soul-searching. There’s something sacred about how it all comes together. And it starts with “Sweet Jesus Knows.” Driven by raw electric textures, haunting melodies, and lyrics that beg more questions than they answer, the track captures the adrenaline of living on the edge, the kind of high-stakes emotional territory where love, danger, and clarity all blur into one. “ We only kill when we need / We only eat what we kill ,” Christian sings, a line that sounds like it could’ve been pulled from a journal found buried in the desert. It’s survival. It’s instinct. It’s a glimpse into the chaos of living for the thrill while still desperately searching for something real to hold onto. But this isn’t nihilism. It’s a reckoning, with faith, with fear, with the thin line between meaning and mayhem. What makes “Sweet Jesus Knows” hit so hard isn’t just the lyrical grit or the pulsing production—it’s the deep tenderness woven throughout. Christian isn’t writing from above the storm. He’s in it with us. Every word feels like a prayer muttered under breath while trying to make sense of the noise. And somehow, in the middle of all that tension, there’s a kind of peace. Anchor & Braille has always been the quieter, more introspective outlet for Stephen Christian. But if NEW MEXICO is any indication, this record won’t just speak in whispers, it will howl, tremble, and shake loose something honest in everyone who listens. It’s a record meant to live with, to grow into. And “Sweet Jesus Knows” is the perfect invitation into that journey. As Christian puts it, “ I want people to explore this place and help them feel at home, no matter where they are .” That’s what this music is for. It’s not about answers. It’s about companionship in the questions. NEW MEXICO feels deeply personal. What is it about your time there that made you want to dedicate an entire album to that chapter of your life? NEW MEXICO represents one of those seasons in life where everything feels raw, like the scenery, the emotions, even the silence. I was living there during a time of deep transition, personally and spiritually. You have to remember that when I first moved there, I had just left Anberlin professionally in 2015. When you are in a band, especially for all those years, your identity is so entwined with who you are, what you are made of. It was a divorce in my life, though amicable, it was still a divorce. I was trying to figure out who I was and what I wanted to become in this new phase of life. The desert has a way of stripping you down to your essentials. That kind of solitude and stillness either drives you mad or refines you. For me, it did a bit of both. This album is my way of remembering who I was, what I lost, and what I found while wandering through that wilderness. “Sweet Jesus Knows” explores this intense mix of survival and spirituality. Where did that specific lyrical imagery come from? That song was born out of the tension between desperation and trust. When I wrote it, I was hanging on by a thread in some areas of my life—but even in that, I felt this faint undercurrent of grace. “Sweet Jesus Knows” came from nights where I was both praying and doubting, hoping and breaking. The imagery is raw because the emotions were raw. It’s the acknowledgment that even when you’re barely holding on, you’re still somehow being held. I have found that the greatest wealth in my life comes from those I surround myself with, which is why I say, 'You know I'm rich in relationships.' When the dust settles (when you are out of the limelight on a major label band traveling the world, making that kind of money), who is still there by your side? You’ve said this was the most fun you’ve ever had making a record. What made the creative process behind NEW MEXICO feel so different? For the first time in a long time, I wasn’t creating with the weight of expectation. No label pressures. No touring agenda. Just art for the sake of expression. Working with my producer Chad Carouthers in this more relaxed environment felt like rediscovering why I fell in love with music in the first place. We’d experiment, laugh, chase whatever sound felt true in the moment. It wasn’t about genre—it was about honesty. That freedom made the entire process feel like a homecoming. Some of those trumpets are me just making the noise with my mouth (which is hysterical), adding punk rock gang vocals, and I even wanted a part where I could whistle like Axl Rose. We just did what we thought was going to be the most fun and fit the ambience the best. Anchor & Braille has always been your more introspective outlet. How did this project evolve emotionally and sonically during the making of this album? Anchor & Braille has always allowed me to write from the inside out. But NEW MEXICO took that vulnerability to a new level. I wasn’t hiding behind metaphor as much. Sonically, we pushed into this blend of ambient textures, acoustic tones, and even a little southwestern grit. It felt like the music had to match the landscape of the story—dry, vast, yet oddly warm. Emotionally, I let go of needing to “resolve” every song. Some feelings just sit in the tension, and that’s okay. What do you hope someone going through their own storm hears or feels when they press play on NEW MEXICO? I hope they hear that they’re not alone. That broken isn’t the end. I didn’t write New Mexico with neat resolutions—it’s more like a journal scrawled on the side of a canyon wall. But if someone hears their own struggle in mine, if they can fully feel to it, heal to it, or just breathe for a minute—that’s everything. I want this album to be a companion in the quiet. A reminder that even in the driest deserts, perhaps they can still find a lesson in the pain, and that is beautiful all in itself. And maybe, just maybe, hope.