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Joel Christian has never been afraid of the dark. In fact, he thrives in it. With his new single “ ENEMY ,” the LA-based artist delivers a high-voltage, synth-driven anthem about inner chaos, duality, and ultimately, self-ownership. It’s pop, but it’s built like a battlefield. Known for his gothic glam aesthetic and emotionally charged electropop sound, Joel Christian is stepping deeper into his signature world, where the club meets confession, and fantasy collides with raw truth. “ENEMY” pulses with adrenaline. It’s cinematic, theatrical, and unfiltered. The kind of track you scream in the mirror when you're done running from yourself. “I created this character to feel like I was worth something, but then it felt like it was destroying me. I tried shoving down my voice and creativity, but it always resurfaced. 'ENEMY' is that song for me.” At its core, "ENEMY" isn’t about external conflict. It’s about the war inside. You know, the version of you that wants to hide and refuses to shrink. Joel Christian describes it as the song that captures his long fight with self-worth and identity, especially as an artist who built a persona to survive, only to feel consumed by it later. “ENEMY” is deeply personal. What was the turning point where you knew this song had to be written, no matter how raw it got? "ENEMY" felt like it was itching inside of me to be released. I had just released my second EP, and I was going to chill for a bit. But then I kept hearing this melody, it honestly felt like it was a song that kept haunting me...like throughout my day I would just start singing "Oh....I feel you haunting me....you're my own worst enemy" and I remember recording it on my voice notes. That was truly the beginning of the entire storyline. It felt like the song found me and needed to come out. I knew instantly this was the next song I needed to release. You talk about the duality of persona vs person. How do you navigate that balance now, especially in an industry that thrives on image? I've struggled for so many years with balancing the duality of being an artist and just a normal guy. I created this eccentric dark persona when I first started doing music in my early 20s, and it sort of just followed me. Throughout my life and career, my stage names changed, but my artistry never did. It felt like a split personality, like I created this persona so that I could live a life on stage and a life in reality - but in the end, it kind of just morphed into one. That's what this song is about. Not running from your enemy (or yourself) but embracing it. This single is sonically huge — dark, danceable, and cinematic. What influenced the production style, and how did you want it to feel emotionally? I wanted this song to be explosive, but with a fun dance pop element. I feel like my recipe for my music is that they will always have subtle dark lyrics and dark visuals, but the sound will be pulsating and contagious to dance to. Electronic pop music with dance elements was always the sound I felt safe in. It felt like it called to me every time in the studio. So when I wrote "ENEMY," I wanted my fans to feel it. I wanted them to feel the sound in their blood and the emotion in my vocals. The song sonically is supposed to take you through an internal battle between the person and the persona. You mention trying to suppress your creativity in the past. What would you say to younger artists who are afraid to fully own who they are? Yeah, I mean I really try to hide who I was for so many years....Like I felt this artist inside of me, but I always felt like I was running from it, or never truly understood why I was the way I was. I would get lost in my creativity to the point of isolation. It took me so many years to truly accept my pain, my creativity, and my inner demons to realize that it's just a part of me. My struggles are just pieces of the puzzle leading me through my journey. I think younger artists should show themselves grace and always be kind to their inner self...even if it feels daunting, turn it into something artistic. If “ENEMY” had to soundtrack one moment in your life, whether real or imagined, what would that scene look like? We planned to tell a beautiful story of how I created my artistry and persona, leading back to the days when I first started performing and making music. I think "ENEMY" is the soundtrack to my younger years of performing and fighting to be seen and heard. It's the battle and the release of the persona that I've created, my superhero, that makes me feel on stage and in front of the camera. The music video tells the story of a distraught patient riding the subway and being haunted by a fierce performer. I would ride the train in San Francisco, dreaming of being a pop star...so I wanted to create that full circle moment for my fans and for me to finally be at peace with who I am as an artist.

Florida-based artist Eddy Puyol is bringing back the soul, the swagger, and the sunshine with his vibrant new single “ Good Time ” —a fueled celebration of life, love, and legacy. Known for his spiritually grounded and joy-sparking music, Puyol continues to redefine what it means to “keep it real” by blending hip-hop roots with an irresistible retro groove—and this time, he’s inviting everyone to the cookout. “Good Time” is more than just a track. It’s a whole vibe. Co-produced with longtime collaborator Doctor Dukes , the song remixes a sample from Puyol’s former musical identity, Rawsrvnt, turning “Beautiful / Be With You” into a euphoric funk jam fit for backyard barbecues and family dance-offs alike. Channeling the lush sounds of Earth, Wind & Fire, Kool & The Gang, and Marvin Gaye, it’s a warm, bass-driven sonic hug with a universal message: love your people, honor the past, and live it up while you can. At the heart of this groove anthem lies a deeply personal mantra passed down from Puyol’s beloved Abuela Ally: “Family’s the main thing.” It’s this thread of gratitude, connection, and multigenerational love that ties the song together. Whether he’s raising a toast to those no longer here or giving thanks for the ones who still pull up to the table, Puyol makes one thing clear—it’s always the right time to have a good time. The music video, directed by Will Thomas, is a soulful slice-of-life glimpse into Casa Puyol , where the party doesn’t need permission to pop off. No gimmicks, no forced performances—just real people, real laughter, real vibes. Eddy Puyol isn’t just dropping a song; in our opinion, he’s dropping a philosophy. And it’s loud, loving, and contagiously upbeat. In a world that often moves too fast, “Good Time” is a sunny reminder to slow down, gather your people, and let the music move you. “Good Time” feels like a total mood lifter—what inspired you to dive into funk for this track, and how does it reflect where you’re at in life right now? I love to live life and have a good time doing it. I believe art should authentically represent the person who creates it, so making a song to soundtrack a celebratory setting with family and friends was important to me. I love the funk music, so this one just happened naturally. Your Abuela’s quote, “Family’s the main thing,” hits hard—how has her influence shaped your music and your mission as an artist? That statement has marked my life forever. She’s the matriarch of the family. What she instilled in all of us still lives on today. Her love, faith, and wisdom helped guide and shape my younger years. The older I get, the more I realize how important it is to surround myself with the ones I love. So that’s what’s been coming out of my music as of late. The music video feels like a real-life family gathering—was everything as spontaneous and unscripted as it looks, or did you have a vision you wanted to bring to life? For sure! We set the tone beforehand and told everyone what we were doing. We have family gatherings all the time, so what you witness in the video is very real to who we are and what we do, even down to the sparklers. I was born on the 4th of July, so I wanted to celebrate that. And of course, we’re Cuban, so a good game of dominoes is always fun! You’ve always prioritized authenticity in your art—how do you balance faith, funk, and fun without compromising any part of yourself? Balance is key. I believe God designed us to smile and live a full and joyful life, so I try to avoid things that don’t bring that into my sphere. Not to say I’ve never experienced the opposite, because I definitely have. However, the goal whenever those things come is to learn from them so you’re prepared the next time life throws something at you. If someone’s going through a tough time and stumbles across “Good Time,” what do you hope they walk away with after watching or listening? Leave your worries and your problems behind and light the night on fire like the 4th of July! In this world, there’s gonna be trouble, but the key is not to let those problems overtake you. Walking by faith is putting one foot in front of the other and believing that the One who gives us breath to breathe can take care of us better than we can. That’s radically changed my daily perspective and keeps me in check to make sure I’m walking on the right path.

With her latest single “Off The Record,” Tenise Marie opens up a deeply personal chapter, one that traces emotional vulnerability, cultural reconnection, and the quiet unraveling of perfectionism. As the title track to her upcoming album, Off The Record doesn’t just set the tone, it is the tone. Honest, reflective, and soul-stirring. Inspired by her travels to the Assyrian homeland in Iraq, the track draws on both internal and external landscapes. It’s about peeling back the layers we wear to seem whole, and finally sitting with the parts of ourselves that feel messy, soft, or unresolved. With folky warmth and a voice that balances delicate strength with raw emotion, Tenise lets us into her world — no edits, no filters. Sonically, “Off The Record” merges acoustic folk-pop textures with hints of R&B and Middle Eastern instrumentation, incorporating elements like piano, guitar, and the oud. The result is a sound that feels both familiar and expansive, rooted in classic songwriting traditions but carried by a global, genre-fluid perspective. Tenise doesn’t just write songs — she documents the soul’s evolution. Her music has always reflected a deep curiosity and hunger for meaning, and this new release continues that tradition with quiet grace. Whether reflecting on love, heartbreak, or the complex journey of self-acceptance, “Off The Record” feels like an artist gently but firmly stepping into her truth. “It’s a reflection of my spiritual journey and emotional tendencies — the ways I used to sugarcoat pain or hold it all in. This song is about releasing that.” “Off The Record” is such an intimate and layered track. What was the moment or experience that first sparked the idea for this song? This song was inspired by my 2023 trip to the Assyrian homeland in Iraq, made possible by support from the Canada Council for the Arts. I wrote it after returning to Canada, as part of my Research & Creation songwriting project. I had already written an initial batch of three songs about my time in Assyria, before wanting to go “Off The Record. Without being aware of it, my songwriting had been externally focused on the people and the places I had grown so deeply connected to in such a short time. After more reflection, I was able to recognize that I had sugar-coated some things and glossed over some of the more personal details. When I finally endeavoured to describe my own internal experience, I peeled back the layers to express some of the rawest emotions I was less comfortable talking about. The trip to Assyria was an overwhelmingly positive experience; I could not have anticipated just how comfortable and connected I would feel in a place I had never visited. It never is just rainbows and waterfalls, though. With “Off The Record”, I wanted to honour the range of emotions I had experienced in an unfiltered confessional. As someone who has mixed heritage and grew up without a close connection to my Assyrian heritage and cultural identity, I did experience some feelings of shame, discomfort, and inadequacy for being mixed and non-fluent in Assyrian. “I was lost for words” is a reference to the language barrier I experienced, as well as my difficulty articulating my thoughts and feelings in the English language. I had decided to approach this travel opportunity with an open mind and no expectations. “I was crying in the church” is a personal anecdote from a very intimate spiritual moment I experienced early in my trip. Learning about and connecting with my Assyrian heritage has been a very emotional journey of processing intergenerational trauma. Some of my emotions finally caught up to me the night before we were scheduled to visit Simele, where thousands of Assyrians were murdered in the 1933 Simele Massacre. While trying to mentally prepare myself to see Simele, I became overwhelmed by the weight of my family’s trauma as genocide survivors. I escaped to the church for a quiet moment, and in my prayers, I found comfort and, unexpectedly, felt deeply connected to my maternal grandmother, Esther, whom I never had the opportunity to meet. She is my connection to my Assyrian blood; I felt her presence so strongly in that moment, and continued to feel her blessings throughout the rest of my trip. The song also alludes to the possibility of romance, ruminating on stolen glances and words exchanged. It describes the excitement of connecting with someone new, evoking themes of longing and desire. You’ve spoken about shedding perfectionism — how has that shaped the way you approach songwriting now compared to earlier in your career? Interestingly, I don’t think perfectionism ever permeated my songwriting. I have always wanted my lyrics to be an honest expression of my own experience, regardless of how they may be perceived by other people. I think my perfectionism has been most present in the recording process. Naturally, when we have the opportunity to immortalize our art, we want to ensure we are making choices that support our work. My focus is always on the song and on how I can best preserve the meaning and the intention through arrangement and production choices. My approach to songwriting might be different than some people. I’m not concerned with the genre or the song structure when I’m writing, and I don’t really make a lot of revisions in about 90% of my work. To me, perfection shouldn’t be a goal of songwriting. I don’t even think there is such a thing as an objectively great song. There is so much nuance and so much nostalgia involved in what makes us feel connected to music. I think any song can be a great song as long as someone derives meaning from it. Shedding perfectionism is a process, but I really tried to find the right balance with recording this time around; for better or for worse, I wanted this album to be an accurate representation of where I’m at. The musical textures in this track are rich and unique. How did your journey to Iraq and your Assyrian heritage influence the sonic direction of this release? This track does have influences from a few different genres. Initially, the keys, vocals, bass, and drums set the stage for reverence, integrating elements of Soul and Gospel music appropriately matched with the church reference. For me, the introduction of the nylon string guitar is reminiscent of Iraq, because during my time there, I found nylon strings to be more prevalent than steel strings. In the climax of the song, the drumming is influenced by a popular Assyrian dance called “Sheikhani”, as another gesture to the homeland. The pairing of synthetic and acoustic instruments is something that is heavily used in contemporary Assyrian music, and I have always been drawn to this kind of sonic juxtaposition. There’s a gentle honesty in your lyrics that feels both personal and universal. How do you navigate writing from a place of truth without over-exposing yourself emotionally? Honestly, I try not to worry about it too much, because no matter what I write, people will interpret it based on their own experiences. This song, in particular, has a lot of double meanings hidden in the lyrics. For example, when I wrote “It was hard to breathe / My scars are deep”, I was actually literally referring to the pubs in Ankawa and Nohadra where people still smoke cigarettes inside, and the burns I had from the astroturf on the soccer field in Diyana. I think in general, I have accepted my fate as a songwriter, knowing that I may be accused of “over-sharing” on my journey to discover truth and meaning through my art. As this song leads into your full Off The Record album, what larger themes or stories can listeners expect from the full project? I chose “Off The Record” as the title for the album because it feels like it encompasses the entire collection of songs. The album reflects different parts of me; it's a record of all of the ways I have changed and grown in the last three years. It leans into the concept of duality. Several of the songs were inspired by my trip to Assyria and touch on themes of home, belonging, and identity. Other songs were inspired by other parts of my life, which are seemingly less profound, but still part of my journey nonetheless. There’s a breakup song I included as much-needed cathartic closure. There's a Country Pop tune as a nod to my rural roots, and there’s even a straight-up Pop track called “Glitter,” coming as the album’s second single on June 13th. You can expect a little more romance, a couple more spiritual references, and a lot more unfiltered honesty. I write what’s in my heart, and my art often reflects what is happening in my life. I wanted to make a record that reminds us of the fragility and value of human life, while encouraging people to continue to seek joy, meaning, and gratitude for our existence.

South Florida-born, L.A.-based artist myah has officially stepped into the spotlight with her debut EP, IS THIS WHAT I SEE? — a vulnerable, cinematic, and deeply nostalgic indie-pop project that reads like the diary of a romantic overthinker. Blending ambient synth textures, emotionally charged guitar riffs, and the kind of vocals that hit you in the gut and wrap you in a hug at the same time, myah has carved out a sound that’s both fresh and familiar. Think: the heartbreak of Phoebe Bridgers, the angst of early 2010s alt-pop, and the storytelling flair of “Emo Taylor Swift”—a title she wears well. Each track plays like a scene from a carefully constructed film, and that’s no accident. As an award-winning filmmaker, myah treats her songwriting like scriptwriting, with emotional arcs, motifs, and even direct references—like Holes and Titanic —woven into her lyrics. Whether she’s offering her voice to a lost loved one ( lost at sea ), or dancing through fleeting moments of romance ( summer love ), myah delivers her truth with a rawness that makes every line feel like it was written for you . Standouts like “i’ll be your light” and “flames” showcase the duality of her emotional world—hope clashing with heartbreak, beauty nestled in pain. The entire EP is laced with this contrast: optimism and loss, existential longing and soft-spoken clarity. Self-funded and independently released, IS THIS WHAT I SEE? is a bold first step from an artist who clearly has much more to say. With her debut full-length album, i don’t know what i’m feeling slated for release this June, myah is proving she’s not just here to make music—she’s here to make you feel . Your EP feels so cinematic—each track like a scene in a movie. How does your background in filmmaking influence your songwriting and sound? I fell in love with filmmaking at a very young age. I would daydream about making movies and putting myself in all these different scenarios as a form of escapism. Growing up, we didn’t have much – I was raised by my mom, and I’m the youngest of five siblings. I’d journal music video concepts for songs I loved, and I still have that journal, which is funny to look back on now. My favorite moments in movies were always the ones that were paired with a great score or soundtrack. The way those scenes made me feel really resonated with me when I was younger, and they still do today.  It’s just a feeling you can’t describe when it’s done right, like in  If Beale Street Could Talk , when Tish is talking about Fonny’s love for her and Agape starts playing – the whole atmosphere changes, and the montage on screen becomes so much more because of the sound. It’s felt so viscerally that it sticks with you. Or in Lars in the Real Girl , there’s this scene where Lars goes to a house party and he’s feeling out of place, and Talking Heads “Naive Melody” starts playing – the juxtaposition of that song with Lars shifts the whole emotional tone, and it’s easy to relate to Lars because most of us know what it’s like to feel like an outsider. Without music, I don’t think these moments would have the same impact. I went to film school,l so the more exposure I got from watching decades and decades of cinema, the more I valued pairing music and visuals as an art form. Since I was about ten years old, the first thing I’ve always done in the morning is roll out of bed and put my headphones on. I don’t really know what life sounds like without music playing, so it makes sense that my songs live in that space between story and sound. When I write, I can’t help but picture the scene that goes with it, and a good number of my songs also have film references peppered in them.  Film is an escape for a lot of people, and I try to write music that can be an escape for people, too. The goal is that when you’re listening to my tracks, you feel less alone or like someone out there understands what you’re going through – even if it’s just for a few minutes. I think that’s why storytelling is so important to me, because I know there’s a lot of value in it. It’s a reminder that we’re all human, just trying to figure things out. "lost at sea" is such a moving tribute to your brother. What was it like writing and recording something so personal from his perspective? When I started writing lost at sea, it wasn’t originally about Hunter. As the metaphor for the song took shape and I started to think about it more, it became clear to me that the song was  for him. He always had this spirit of adventure, and when he was in his late teens, he bought a sailboat and decided to sail to the Bahamas from our hometown in Florida, but things didn’t go as planned. He ended up alone on the sailboat and fought for his life to get back to safety. There was a very bad storm, and he said a few times he was pretty scared and didn’t think he would survive – he just prayed he’d make it home. Whenever he would tell that story, I’d always imagine what that must’ve felt like, and how brave and strong he was. So in the end, I took that visual and made it more romantic by writing a song where the character has another person with them, but Hunter is the one who gets them home safe. Since he passed away, it’s hard for me to listen to that track because I miss him so much, but when I close my eyes, I see my big brother on that sailboat, and it reminds me of how fearless and strong he was. I think all of my songs are quite personal, but losing a sibling and having a song be an ode to them is very different from a breakup track — it’s a grief that reminds you of your whole life, vs. a relationship that was just for a certain period of time. You've been called the “Emo Taylor Swift.” How do you balance the emotional depth of emo with the structure and catchiness of pop? Yeah, I was called that a few times when my first couple of singles dropped. I think it’s because my lyrics are usually built around a relationship or two people trying to figure things out, and when you’re a newer female artist trying to break into the industry, people tend to compare you to Taylor Swift right away. I think that comparison now is starting to fade with all of my new music because most of the elements and details I use in my music production don’t feel like Taylor; it’s really just my sound.  I’m a huge empath, and that makes you pretty emo, whether you want to be more or not lol. I grew up during the height of pop-punk, emo, and alternative music, so that naturally influenced my music. I think “Have Faith in Me” and “You Had Me at Hello” were pretty canon songs as a kid — all that early 2000s music was crazy. Karen O’s vocals changed my brain chemistry. I think people don’t realize that these genres are also wildly romantic, which is where the pop hooks come into play. When you’re looking at music through the lens of romanticism, the hook is the outburst, it’s your statement, it’s what you want, what you’re thinking, and it’s gotta be catchy because if it’s not, then your statement is just annoying to the listener. So the lyrics are emo, the influence is emo, but the structure is pop hooks, so people don’t tune out. If my hooks didn’t have that energy, then I don’t think people would get the emotional impact behind it. I foundthat with music I could express myself without having to worry about seeming too much. By laying all my feelings out in my songs, other people sense the freedom to express themselves too. It’s very communal in that way.  Each song on IS THIS WHAT I SEE? feels incredibly intentional. Can you talk about your process of choosing the track order and how you wanted listeners to experience the journey? I approach EPs and albums the same way I approach films. I think it should feel like a story from start to finish, call it the hero’s journey. I love when albums are all connected – one of my favorite albums of all time is “Good News For People Who Love Bad News”, and I feel like it’s the prime example of something connecting from start to finish, it’s just cohesive. From that opening horn intro, you know you’re in for something. IS THIS WHAT I SEE? was written with an outlook in perspective. The tracks occur in the aftermath of the situations, and if you listen to them sequentially, then you start to understand the EP thematically.  “with you” is recognizing that certain people, when you’re with them, you don’t want to lose them, and acknowledging that we only have so much time, so when you’re with the right person, time stops because you know it’s not a waste. The lyric, “This must be the place if we’re in a groove!” is a nod to Naive Melody by Talking Heads and that scene from Lars and the Real Girl.  “i’ll be your light” is when you lose someone and you’re left with that desperate feeling of wanting to go back in time and relive what was once magical, even though you know the other person has moved on. It’s from the perspective of knowing that some relationships only work for a moment in time and aren’t supposed to last forever.  “notice you” is about not understanding if someone is into you or not, but hoping that they will be. I wrote it about a situationship I was in where I thought the person was really into me, but in actuality, I was misreading all the signs because of the romantic side of me, and it didn’t end up working out the way I thought it would.   “summer love” is a reflective track. It’s for the people who are in long-term relationships, because I think a lot of music is about new love or heartbreak, but not too many songs are about those who are together for 5, 6, 8+ years. It’s a nostalgic, remembering type track, and it touches on those ideas of life going so fast that when you stop for a second, the only thing you really want is to be able to go back to that first meeting where things felt magical and you had those butterflies.  “flames” I wrote about one of my exes who has an avoidant attachment style, and again, it’s reflective. It’s when you know it’s over and all you can do at that point is think about what happened, and even though you have to let go, there’s a piece of you that would go run back if the other person came back too. The outro “If only, if only, if only” is a nod to the poem in the movie Holes, which is one of my favorite movies and books. The two characters in the poem are both longing for something that they don't have, and that’s really what flames is about. “lost at sea” is for the hopeful, lets weather the storm romantics, and “running” is about two people fighting and how if life wasn’t so complicated, maybe two people could breathe again and ultimately find a way to be alright. Sometimes in relationships, it can feel as if external factors didn’t influence so much, and two people can be together and actually be happy. I think a lot of people just quit when it gets too hard, and I understand that.  “say it” is when there’s a finality to a relationship being over, but the idea is that once you accept and recognize that, you can find yourself again by being okay with being alone, which is something that I’ve personally struggled with.  If this EP captures the emotional snapshots of a moment in time, what are you hoping your upcoming debut album, i don’t know what i’m feeling , will say about where you are now? I look at IS THIS WHAT I SEE?  As an alternate reality to  i don’t know what i’m feeling. IS THIS WHAT I SEE?  is built around singular, fragmented moments that I experienced in my life, and gives people an introduction to me as an artist. Yes, it’s a collection of “love” songs thematically, but it’s more about the emotions behind love, vs. just love as a blanket statement. It’s also more mature in it’s resolution – the perspective of IS THIS WHAT I SEE?  Is acknowledgment, growth, and moving on. It’s a wiser version of myself. There’s an understanding that things come and things go. Sometimes you have to just accept it, process it, and move forward on your own, and that’s okay. i don’t know what i’m feeling is more desperate. It’s a 17-track album that explores every feeling I’ve experienced when you think you’ve met the one, but it doesn’t work out. The album is not about one ex or one person, it’s a collection of every emotion – wonder, lust, heartbreak, anger, resolve, feeling butterflies, being in love. I’ve kind of had a crazy ride when it comes to looking for “the one”, and this album, in a way, is a love letter to my 20s. It touches on the crisis you experience as you start to get older and realize that romance and love aren’t what you’ve been told your whole life. It’s toxic and devastating and confusing; it can feel like you’re on top of the world one day and then like your whole world is falling apart the next. Being a romantic is hard because you grow up thinking that you’re going to find your person in a serendipitous kind of way, and then even when you think you do, even THAT could end poorly. Every song is intertwined from start to finish, and it’s meant to be listened to in order. As far as where I am now, I think I don’t know where I am,  because, well,  I don’t know what I’m feeling.

Photo by Justin Patterson Sydney Kane is taking her talents from the timeline to the stage with her upcoming musical comedy special, Wife Material, set to film live at The Green Room 42 on June 18. Known for her painfully relatable takes on dating, Kane has built a cult following with her blend of razor-sharp wit, musical theatre energy, and zero-filter storytelling. With original songs, sketch comedy, and jokes that cut just deep enough to sting, Wife Material takes aim at the eternal chaos of modern love — from ghosting to girl math to the situationship you knew was doomed but still gave six months of your life to. Directed by Andrew Mullins with musical direction by David Dabbon (SNL 50, Cat Cohen, Las Culturistas Culture Awards), the special gives vintage sitcom aesthetics a Gen Z edge. Think I Love Lucy if Lucy had a group chat, went to therapy, and wrote diss tracks about Ricky. Kane describes the show as “a hilarious breakdown of my worst dating decisions, performed for strangers, so my friends can finally rest.” She’s not out to villainize her exes — well, not completely — but rather to hold a mirror up to herself, and all of us, with a wink and a killer punchline. We got the chance to sit down and chat with Sydney about Wife Material and why heartbreak makes the best punchlines — read the full interview below. You describe Wife Material as a blend of a musical, a breakup, and a 1950s sitcom. How did you land on that concept, and what was the "aha" moment that made it click? I always wanted to write a variety show that had original comedy songs and sketches. I was conveniently going through an on-and-off breakup at the time, and I didn’t wanna talk about it. So I decided to write a whole show about it, which is different. And it wrote itself. I chose to write about my experience of dating in 2025 in the vibe of a 1950’s sitcom because, that tone puts such a fun filter on fucked up situations. Sitcom characters are usually going through terrible situations, but the audience always laughs with them and at them. I was outlining the show, I made eye contact with my “I Love Lucy Vitameatavegemin Lunch Box” and said “aha!”  Your comedy often walks the line between self-deprecating and deeply relatable. How do you balance calling yourself out while also calling the dating world on its BS? I know I’m a mess. But so is everyone else. My therapist calls it “self awareness” but only an asshole would say that about themself.  What’s one sketch or song in the show that had your friends saying, “Please don’t include that — it’s too real”? Everyone is begging me not to do this show. You mentioned wanting to take full accountability for your bad decisions in this special. How do you think that flips the script on typical dating content? Oh, I’m not sure it does. But! If I appear confident and say it does, in published ink, then maybe people will start to think that too!  You say we need more women making bad decisions. Bold. Expand on that — what does that mean to you in comedy, and in life? If I were a man, would you ask me to expand on that?

Photo by Bobby Rachpoot - John Alto / Cali Water The invite-only dating app Blush  teamed up with The Daily Front Row  for an exclusive evening of cocktails, caviar, and high-glamour vibes high above Los Angeles. Held at a sprawling, multi-level estate nestled in the Hollywood Hills, the private soirée brought together an elite crowd of tastemakers, models, influencers, and creatives for an unforgettable night under the stars. Against a sweeping backdrop of the LA skyline, guests were treated to back-to-back DJ sets from internationally acclaimed artists John Alto  and Surf Mesa , whose sets kept the energy pulsing into the night. The estate’s infinity pool served as a showstopping focal point, reflecting the city lights and a sea of soft candlelight, pink florals, and blush-toned decor that matched the namesake of the app. Culinary indulgence was just as thoughtfully curated. The Caviar Boys served up luxe bites featuring Golden Reserve Caviar , layered atop unexpected favorites like chicken nuggets and waffle fries with crème fraîche and chives. Guests also sampled savory fare from FatBoys BBQ , creating a menu that merged decadence with comfort. Signature cocktails added a flirty edge to the night, with highlights including the “Make Me Blush Paloma”  made with Flecha Azul Tequila, the “Espresso Flirtini”  featuring Kahlúa, and the “Laid Back Lemonade”  with Still G.I.N. Revelers also enjoyed Gin&Juice RTDs from Dre and Snoop, and hydrated with Caliwater  cactus water throughout the evening. Blush, the host of the night, is redefining modern romance with its invitation-only platform. The app connects members through curated matchmaking, personalized introductions, and high-touch experiences that aim to elevate the traditional dating journey. The Caviar Boys Among the high-profile attendees were Charlotte McKinney , Gillian Nation , Tessa Brooks , Marta Pozzan , Sebastian Topete , Sydney Paight  of Love Island , Courtney Lynn Smith , Jeff Beacher , and The Caviar Boys  themselves, alongside dozens more notable names from the worlds of fashion, nightlife, and entertainment. As the stars sparkled over the city, the Blush x Daily Front Row bash stood out as a night of connection, celebration, and curated chemistry, setting a new gold standard for what a dating app launch can look like.

Some songs hit you immediately. Others slowly seep into your bloodstream, one sleepless night at a time. Side Show Stereo ’s latest single, “ Paper Thin ,” is the latter—a slow-burning indie pop-rock confessional made for late-night drives and even later regrets. The project of Joshua Dela Rama, Side Show Stereo, has always been about more than just music. It’s therapy, it’s memory, it’s identity. With “Paper Thin,” he doesn’t just sing about longing—he lives in it. The track, with its shimmering guitars and diary-entry honesty, captures the ache of looking back at a love you weren’t ready for until it was too late. Written in 2018 and only now seeing the light of day, “Paper Thin” chronicles the quiet grief of “the one that got away.” But what makes it cut deeper is how familiar it feels: the endless replay of old conversations, the pit-of-your-stomach ache that creeps in when you're finally alone, the stubborn hope that maybe, just maybe, they still feel it too. “I don’t know what it is, I’m thinking I miss you,” Dela Rama repeats in the chorus—a deceptively simple line that wraps uncertainty, regret, and emotional paralysis into one gut punch of a lyric. It’s not clever. It’s real. And that’s what makes it powerful. The instrumentation blends melancholy and movement: dreamy guitar layers glide over punchy tambourine and upbeat percussion, pulling influence from early 2000s emo-pop and modern indie rock alike. Think The Band Camino meets Green Day on a foggy back road in Southern California. While the song may be rooted in past heartache, the context behind its release adds even more gravity. After losing his father, his first musical mentor, in May 2024, Dela Rama briefly considered walking away from music altogether. But grief didn’t silence him—it amplified his purpose. “Now I use my father as a driving force behind my art,” he says. “Every release, I play it loud so my dad can hear it up there.” - Side Show Stereo “Paper Thin” is the beginning of a new chapter—one where the heartbreak hits deeper, the songwriting hits harder, and the passion is louder than ever. For Dela Rama, this isn't just a release—it's a love letter to what could’ve been, what still hurts, and what keeps him going. “Paper Thin” was written years ago but only released now. What made you decide this was the right time to share it with the world? I’m always, always writing. Whenever inspiration strikes, I’ll drop what I’m doing because it’s like an itch that won’t stop, haha. So I've written a ton of songs that I haven’t recorded. But once in a while, I’ll revisit a song and be like “hey, this is pretty good!” and decide to record it right then. Especially because I felt like Paper Thin’s sound, despite being written years ago, is in line with the direction of where I want to take Side Show Stereo. So it felt like a pretty good time to release it now. You’ve said your dad was the reason you became a musician. How has your relationship with music changed since his passing, and how does it show up in this release? Since his passing, this has been the most driven and motivated I’ve ever felt. In music and in life in general. He’s lit a fire under me, and I want to honor him through my music. It does get tough at times because my dad introduced me to so many bands that I love, so I think of him when their songs are playing. But I’ve learned not to shy away from sadness. I’ll be sad at first, then remember I feel this way because my dad was such a big, important part of my life, and it’s a blessing to have had a dad like him. That initial sadness turns to a positive emotion, one of gratitude. Happy tears. I think Paper Thin is a great reflection of my relationship with music and my dad because he loves a melodic-driven song just like I do (definitely where I got it from), and Paper Thin, in both the vocals and the guitars, emphasizes melody. I think my dad would’ve really liked this song. The song’s vibe is emotionally heavy, but the beat is upbeat, almost nostalgic. How do you approach balancing sad lyrics with energetic production? When I write songs, it almost always starts off on the acoustic guitar. Then I’ll have an initial general idea of how I want it to sound. And oftentimes, my direction for the song changes throughout the recording process. I love the recording process because I start with a blank canvas, and the possibilities are endless. The initial version of Paper Thin had a slower tempo and leaned towards the R&B /soul sound. Then I experimented with the beats, added the hi-hats and tambourine, sped it up a bit, and voila, the current version. I’m stoked with how it turned out! I also love the duality of having not-so-happy lyrics with upbeat music or vice versa. I think it’s another fun way of expressing artistic liberty and subverting expectations. There are no rules in music, and that’s a pretty sick part about art as a whole. Your lyrics often read like journal entries. How do you maintain that vulnerability in your songwriting without holding back? I find it so much easier writing songs when I’m honest with myself, so maintaining that level of vulnerability isn’t much of a problem for me. When I struggle with writing or finishing a song, I like to ask myself, am I holding back, and at times that’ll be the case. I'll tell myself, "Let go, let it flow." A rule of thumb I’ve been following is that if I’m not cringing at my own lyrics, I’m not being honest enough. I’m a very big mental health advocate and improving the societal discourse around it. I go to therapy, journal, and mindfulness meditation, so being vulnerable and honest with myself has gotten easier throughout the years. With more releases coming in 2025, how do you feel your sound—and your story—are evolving? What can fans expect next from Side Show Stereo? Without spoiling too much, my listeners can expect a new and revamped Side Show Stereo coming throughout 2025! My upcoming releases pull from various other genres, styles, and sounds, all the while staying true to my foundation: honest lyrics driven by melodies. I feel I'm constantly getting better in my craft, in my playing and recording, but most especially in my writing. I want to tell my story in a way that only I can, and I hope my listeners can resonate with my words. Subject matters covered in my upcoming songs include dealing with grief, finding inner peace, and stoking the ever-growing fire inside me, among other topics important to me. Lastly, I'll say my best work is yet to come, and I hope my listeners are just as excited as I am. Stay tuned!

With " Pray to Petty God ," Markas solidifies his status as a visionary in modern hip-hop. This highly anticipated six-track EP is a testament to his ability to fuse timeless West Coast energy with a signature melodic flow and razor-sharp lyrical finesse. From the very first beat, the project commands attention. Standout singles " Cal Worthington " and " Halftime " reveal Markas' knack for storytelling and clever wordplay. "Cal Worthington" rides a laid-back, sun-soaked groove, offering listeners a reflective, almost cinematic experience. In contrast, "Halftime" delivers a poignant message, capturing the struggle between self-doubt and resilience—an anthem for anyone navigating life's pressures and pauses. A major highlight arrives with "Gucci and Gold Pt. 2," a hard-hitting collaboration featuring none other than Curren$y. Both artists bring undeniable chemistry, trading bars that blend street wisdom with luxury flexes, all wrapped in a classic yet fresh beat. "The Score," featuring Yaeknows, adds another layer of depth to the project. Yaeknows' distinct style complements Markas perfectly, reinforcing the EP's diversity without compromising its cohesion. What truly sets "Pray to Petty God" apart is Markas' commitment to narrative depth. Each track feels like a chapter, rooted in personal experience but universally relatable. His sharp observations and vivid imagery paint a picture that resonates long after the music stops. Whether it's a moment of introspection or a confident declaration, Markas ensures every line hits purposefully. "Pray to Petty God" isn't just a collection of songs; it's a curated experience that bridges classic influences with forward-thinking creativity. As Markas continues to push boundaries and refine his sound, this EP stands as a milestone in his artistic journey—a perfect entry point for new listeners and a rewarding evolution for longtime fans.

Alice Austin returns with the title track from her upcoming album Super 8 —and true to her genre-defying roots, it’s a rich, layered offering that blends retro charm with sharp emotional insight. Known for her work across a kaleidoscope of genres from psych rock and synth-pop to folk and heavy metal, Austin’s latest single is a masterclass in alternative rock with singer-songwriter depth, delivering both sonic satisfaction and a gut-punch of revelation. “Super 8” opens with an air of cinematic nostalgia, conjuring the flicker of grainy motel lights and the emotional stillness of waiting rooms—both literal and metaphorical. The track plays out like a scene from a 1970s film: smoky vocals, shimmering guitar lines, and a steady rhythm that pulses like a neon sign outside a dive motel. But beneath the surface of its vintage aesthetic lies something much deeper. Lyrically, “Super 8” is about a character caught in a moment of painful clarity. They realize they are nothing more than a placeholder in someone else’s story—a temporary escape route for a partner unwilling to leave their dead-end relationship. It’s a striking metaphor that Austin delivers with a combination of quiet devastation and growing resolve. As the song progresses, that resignation transforms into resilience, making it not just a breakup song but an anthem of self-recognition. Produced by longtime collaborator David Drouin and mixed/mastered by Timothy Phillips, the track retains Austin’s signature attention to detail, effortlessly weaving warm textures with raw sentiment. It’s a standout single that sets the tone for the Super 8 album, promising a project that balances dreamy atmospherics with grounded emotional weight. Alice Austin continues to prove she’s one of the most compelling and versatile voices in alternative music. Whether you vibe with the vintage rock ambiance or connect with the emotional undertow, Super 8 offers something real and good. “Super 8” feels like a scene straight out of a vintage indie film—full of emotional stillness and subtle realizations. Can you walk us through the visual and emotional inspiration behind the track and its accompanying video? The song Super 8 was inspired by the surreal experience of being trapped in a fantasy version of love, one that binds the characters to lives that are both undesirable and unsustainable. At its core, the story centers on a woman waiting alone in a seedy motel for a lover who never arrives. In the hours of isolation that follow, she begins to awaken to a deeper sense of self-love, confronting the raw truth that her role in the relationship has been fueling her own disconnection from real intimacy. The accompanying video is an abstract interpretation of these themes. The character—played by me—traces the outline of her ego’s death on the motel floor, then lies in the space where it once existed. In a bout of sleeplessness, she scrawls affirmations on sticky notes, pastes them to the mirror, kisses the mirror, and then retreats to the corner of the room to make out with herself. The chorus scenes unfold in a series of colorful, dreamlike bedrooms, where she experiments with different stylistic versions of herself, torn between reverting to her former ego-driven identity or stepping into a more authentic version of who she truly is. There’s a powerful shift in the song, from being used in someone else’s fantasy to reclaiming self-worth. Was there a moment in your own life that inspired this transformation in the narrative? Tough question. I usually avoid talking about my personal life because I bear enough of my heart and soul in songs. It just sounds like drama when taken out of the context of universal experiences, but here it is. I have been in a series of relationships with addicts, and felt a lot of despair caused by a lack of true connection. I’ve been sober for almost two years now, and in the process realized how much of the problem I was. In addition to a lot of codependent dysfunction, my own substance abuse was starting to hinder aspects of my personal growth and spiritual evolution. Pretty tough stuff to reveal in public so directly, but thank you for giving me the opportunity to share that. I hope it helps someone. You’ve traversed so many genres over your career—psych rock, synth pop, metal, folk. Where does “Super 8” sit in your creative evolution, and how did you approach blending your past influences into this track? I really have mixed it up. Genres are funny to me because songs should make production and genre irrelevant, in my opinion. So I’ve always been whimsical with production because it’s fun. Super 8 wasn’t an intellectual concept at all; it came out naturally. I think most artists (except the super geniuses) have their bag of tricks, and I’m sure my melodies and content would all be pretty similar if you just stripped them down to an acoustic guitar and a vocal. I’m never really concerned with having an identity or a brand for the sake of Spotify knowing how to classify me. So the rest was just listening to the song and doing what it says to do. It feels more like carving away what it is not, I guess. You mentioned that the song can be enjoyed superficially, but there’s depth for those who need it. As a songwriter, how do you balance crafting something catchy with embedding personal or painful truths? For starters, it has to have depth. If it’s not catchy, I don’t care, as long as it makes me feel something. If I don’t feel enough from it, it goes straight into the trash can. If it has one hook, it has hooks everywhere, like fun little rabbit holes. I count on my producer, David Drouin, to dig into those. He’s a master at finding them and making them the best parts of the songs. With Super 8, the album dropping July 11, what themes or sounds can fans expect from the full project? Does it continue in the vein of emotional storytelling, or are there sonic curveballs on the way? There are some rockers! I think it has some arty Alt-rock tunes and some darker experimental singer-songwriter moments as well. Thematically, the record is an emotionally revealing one. I’m nervous about putting it into the world, so I know it is probably worth hearing.

Photo by Daniel Semenov Los Angeles is overflowing with influencers crowding the usual photo ops—Santa Monica Pier, Griffith Observatory, Melrose murals… snooze. If you’re a musician or content creator trying to craft a visual identity that stands out (and let’s be honest, that’s mandatory in 2025), you need more than just "pretty." You need spots that ooze vibe. Backdrops that slap. Textures that tell a story. Places that won’t have 47 TikTokers in the background doing the same tired transition. That’s where we come in. We scouted, creeped, and downright trespassed (legally, of course) to bring you 10 hidden LA gems for your next music photoshoot.  1. The Old LA Zoo Photo by Roberto Nickson Where:  Griffith Park Rusting cages, graffiti-stained walls, and overgrown wilderness—it’s an urban explorer’s fantasy. Punk, indie, or alternative? This is your gritty wonderland. 2. Ascot Hills Park Photo by Ascot Hills Park Where:  East LASkip Runyon This quiet, cinematic park has sweeping skyline views and wild, rolling hills that’ll make your press photos scream album cover energy. 3. The Brewery Arts Complex Where:  Lincoln Heights Industrial backdrops, colorful murals, and a weirdly post-apocalyptic vibe. It’s where creative rebels shoot when they outgrow Arts District clichés. 4. Murphy Ranch Ruins Where:  Rustic Canyon Eerie, graffitied ruins hidden deep in the Santa Monica Mountains. Perfect for moody solo shots or edgy band promos—if you’re down for the hike. 5. Heritage Square Museum (Exterior) Photo courtesy of Heritage Square Where:  Montecito Heights Victorian homes in various stages of decay and restoration. Gives that “haunted grandeur” vibe without needing to beg for a permit. 6. Topanga Lookout Trail Photo by California By Choice Where:  Topanga An abandoned, graffiti-covered platform hangs over the mountains. High-key dangerous, high-key epic. You’ll get unmatched sunset shots. 7. El Matador State Beach (Off-Season) Photo by Tripadvisor Where:  Malibu The famous caves and arches—but timing is everything. Off-season mornings give you haunting, isolated shots. In-season? Welcome to a photoshoot nightmare. 8. St. Vincent Court Where:  Downtown LA Hidden European alleyway vibes right in the middle of the city.  Cobblestone, hanging cafe lights, and barely anyone knows it exists. 9. Sunken City Where:  San Pedro Broken streets and toppled foundations swallowed by the earth back in the 1920s. Technically closed to the public, but if you know, you know. 10. Vasquez Rocks (The Deep Cuts Trail) Photo by LA County Parks & Rec Where:  Agua Dulce Everyone does the main rock formations. Take the hidden trails and find isolated spots that don’t look like a Star Trek reboot set. Your secret weapon for an otherworldly vibe. If you’re still pulling up to Hollywood Blvd or that pink wall on Melrose for your promo photos… we can’t help you.But if you’re ready to create visuals that match your sound—raw, original, and unmistakably you—these hidden LA photoshoot spots are your ticket.