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While the 2010s Top 40 charts were dominated by the mega-machines like Katy Perry’s glitter bombs, Drake’s brooding hooks, and Taylor Swift’s reinventions, something way more interesting was bubbling just below the surface. Indie bands, long sidelined to blog hype and late-night sets at dive bars, were quietly building the future. They weren’t chasing hits; they were literally shaping our culture. Their edgy sounds, aesthetics, production choices, emotional nuance... all of it. What was once “too weird” or “too niche” slowly became the very fabric of pop as we know it now. By the time the mainstream caught up, indie wasn’t just influencing pop, it had infiltrated it. So let’s give credit where it’s due. These are the bands that actually changed the game. 10 Indie Bands That Quietly Shaped Pop as We Know It Tame Impala Tame Impala  didn’t just bring psychedelic rock back; they made it chart-friendly. Their signature blend of swirling synths, lo-fi guitar textures, and introspective lyricism influenced everyone from Rihanna to Travis Scott. By the mid-2010s, pop embraced psychedelic sounds and reverb-heavy production, much of which could be traced directly to Lonerism and Currents. Parker even collaborated with Lady Gaga, The Weeknd, and Kanye West. The ripple effect? A new, dreamy pop era. Vampire Weekend When Vampire Weekend  first emerged, their prep-school aesthetics and Afrobeat-tinged rhythms were called pretentious. Fast forward a few years, and their sharp songwriting and cultural mashups became the template for intelligent, globally-conscious pop. By the end of the decade, artists like Lorde, Bleachers, and even Taylor Swift’s Folklore-era sound had echoes of Vampire Weekend’s playful yet sophisticated sonic fingerprints. CHVRCHES Glasgow’s CHVRCHES  helped spearhead the 2010s synthpop renaissance. Their glossy, anthemic hooks and emotionally raw lyrics resonated far beyond indie circles. Mainstream artists soon followed suit, just listen to the synth-heavy pop landscapes in tracks by Halsey, Ellie Goulding, and even mainstream powerhouses like Selena Gomez. The lesson? Big feelings and bigger synths were back in business. The 1975 At first glance, The 1975  were just another Tumblr-famous band with catchy hooks and neon aesthetics. But their willingness to blur genres, combining rock, R&B, electronic, and even jazz, became a defining pop feature by the late 2010s. Their introspective, self-aware lyrics also paved the way for artists like Billie Eilish and Olivia Rodrigo, whose emotionally honest storytelling now defines Gen Z pop. Alt-J Alt-J  embraced the weird. Their off-kilter rhythms, cryptic lyrics, and genre-defying approach inspired a wave of artists to take more experimental risks within pop structures. Without Alt-J breaking through with An Awesome Wave , there might not have been room for the likes of Glass Animals or Billie Eilish’s more avant-garde early work. Florence + The Machine Florence Welch ’s sweeping vocals and orchestral arrangements brought a level of grandiosity and emotional intensity that seeped into pop’s DNA. Artists like Halsey, Adele’s later albums, and even Beyoncé (Spirit, Don’t Hurt Yourself) show echoes of Florence’s dramatic, poetic approach. Arctic Monkeys By the time AM dropped in 2013, Alex Turner and company had evolved from post-punk revivalists into smooth, moody, R&B-influenced rockers. Their tight, sultry production and minimalist hooks inspired not just indie acts, but mainstream pop and hip-hop producers looking for that less-is-more vibe. Haim Haim  brought musicianship, harmony, and West Coast cool back to the mainstream. Their blend of Fleetwood Mac nostalgia and modern pop-rock became a huge influence on Taylor Swift’s evermore and folklore, and you can hear their fingerprints in everyone from Clairo to Harry Styles. Paramore While they started in the emo and pop-punk scenes, Paramore’ s evolution in the 2010s, especially with their self-titled album and After Laughter, blurred the lines between alternative rock, synthpop, and mainstream pop. Hayley Williams’ lyrical vulnerability and the band’s knack for catchy yet emotionally deep hooks paved the way for the pop-punk revival and influenced everyone from Olivia Rodrigo to Billie Eilish to Miley Cyrus. The xx The xx  perfected the art of space, silence, and intimacy in music. Their stripped-down sound and delicate emotional storytelling became a playbook for modern pop’s softer side, think Lorde’s early work, Khalid, and even Drake’s more contemplative moments. Indie Didn’t Just Influence Pop, It Became Pop The 2010s indie bands didn’t just sprinkle flavor into pop; they rewired its DNA. Today’s biggest pop hits owe as much to bedroom producers and quirky indie bands as they do to the Max Martins of the world. As we cruise through the mid-2020s, the indie spirit, genre-bending, emotionally raw, and fearlessly experimental, is the pop mainstream. What’s Next for Pop in 2025? As pop music continues to evolve in 2025 , one of the biggest trends shaping the genre is the blending of indie and alternative influences into mainstream production. Today’s top pop artists are no longer confined to one sound; instead, they pull from bedroom pop, electronic, R&B, and even lo-fi aesthetics to create a more emotionally resonant and genre-fluid sound. With platforms like TikTok driving discovery and niche fan communities gaining more power, the definition of “pop” is more expansive than ever. Whether it's through raw, vulnerable lyricism or experimental production choices, pop music in 2025 is becoming a space where authenticity, innovation, and individuality are front and center.

Karen Alice Dunbar ’s latest single, “ The Other Side, ” is a beautiful paradox. It’s soft yet firm, lonely yet empowering, and rooted in heartbreak while blooming with hope. As the first single from her upcoming EP Calamity State , due July 11th, this folk-pop ballad invites listeners into a world of midnight emotions and morning clarity. Written over a decade ago, “The Other Side” captures the raw moment of waking up alone, aching for a presence that’s no longer there. But it doesn’t stop at the pain. It evolves. It unfolds into a gentle act of reclamation—of bed space, emotional ground, and self-worth. As Karen sings about sleepless nights and ghosted memories, her voice remains both soothing and soul-baring, drawing from the emotive styles of London Grammar, Haim, and Kacey Musgraves. The production is minimal yet lush, allowing the lyrics to breathe and resonate. A dreamy guitar line carries the melody while layered harmonies slowly rise like the morning sun over the emotional wreckage left behind. There’s an intimacy to this track that feels timeless, as though it was always waiting to be released at just the right moment. Dunbar, a North Wexford native, has traveled far with her music; from Greece and Germany to Nashville and Canada, but “The Other Side” brings her songwriting back to the bedroom, the place where most heartbreak lives and lingers. What sets this song apart is its delicate transition from sorrow to strength. The act of sleeping on “their” side of the bed becomes a metaphor for taking back what’s yours, even in the smallest, most symbolic ways. “I’d like people to feel comforted in the fact they’re not alone during those sleepless nights of missing someone,” Karen shares. “And a sense of hope that the morning will come soon.” That hope glows through every note. “The Other Side” is not just a breakup song. It’s a lullaby for the broken, a quiet anthem for those learning to rest with their own heart again. And as the curtain rises on Calamity State , Karen Alice Dunbar proves that sometimes healing begins with something as simple as changing sides of the bed. "The Other Side" was written over 10 years ago. What made now the right time to finally release it? I hadn't released any new music since the COVID pandemic, as I had burned myself out trying to do too much in other aspects of my work. However, I took a step back from some of my teaching work last year, and as a result, I was able to create space for these songs to grow. The Other Side has always been one of my favorite songs I've ever written, but until recently, I wasn't sure where to go with the sound. Now was the time for it. There's a beautiful metaphor for sleeping on their side of the bed. Can you share how that small act helped you emotionally reclaim your space? Healing from a breakup of any kind is a form of grief, in my opinion - a loss. Part of the journey is feeling whole again without that other person, so sleeping on their side is a symbolic yet significant step in that process.  Your upcoming EP is titled Calamity State. What does that title represent for you, and how does this single set the tone? "Calamity State" is the title of one of the songs from the EP and the catalyst for these songs being plucked from the archives - the vault. It's about going through the motions, getting by in a functional freeze, and on autopilot because you're so burnt out and are leaning on whatever vice helps you get through. It's very personal and reflective, and 'The Other Side' is a song that represents those sleepless nights of overthinking and longing.  You've toured across Europe and North America. How have those experiences shaped your songwriting and perspective? Nashville definitely had a huge impact on my songwriting. I've taken several trips there, and from watching & listening to other artists at open mics to sitting down to co-write with them, it made me a better writer. I was 27 when I took my first trip there, solo, with no one to know, and making connections as I went along. It was a huge growing experience & learning curve for this sheltered Irish girl! You cite influences like London Grammar, Haim, and Kacey Musgraves. How do you balance their inspiration with your distinct voice? Something I learned with making this EP was that I didn't have to stick to one style per se. I felt much freer than I had previously while recording, and I wasn't trying to make the songs sound like anything in particular. It was liberating that I could let the songs sound like whatever they needed to. I draw inspiration from specific elements of different songs by these artists while maintaining my originality and integrity as the artist I am, not who I think I should be or what people would like. This EP is my personal rebellion against people-pleasing.

Los Angeles-based alt-pop artist Almondmilkhunni is entering a bold new chapter with Star Baby, her first EP since 2023’s ENJOY THE RIDE . Known for her dreamy vocals, raw confidence, and Jersey-born attitude, she blends electronica, sensual storytelling, and unapologetic truth in a way that’s entirely her own. We caught up with the rising star to talk about her new single “New Jerzey,” her roots in DIY house shows and strip clubs, and why vulnerability will always be her superpower. "New Jerzey" feels like both an ode and a confession; what inspired you to blur the lines between a lover and a mirror of yourself in this track? My best friend originally inspired me because she's also a Jersey girl. Then, while I was describing the quintessential Jersey girl, I realized how much I am also that girl.  You've always balanced softness with edge. How does Star Baby expand or shift that duality in your sound and persona? The edge in Star Baby comes from a more eager and angsty place. In Pleaser, that sense of edginess is based on feminine rage at the society we live in and the way women, specifically sex workers, are treated and viewed by men.  Coming from New Jersey's DIY house scene and now releasing music in LA with Hall of Fame Records, how has your environment shaped your evolution as an artist? Being born and raised in Jersey makes you real. I grew up with all of my friends being in bands, and even if they didn't "make it" big time, they were all so incredibly talented and earnest in their love for music. That shaped who I am. Even though I've gone through periods of not knowing myself earlier in my career, I've come back to the Jersey girl I always was, and that's where the authenticity lies. You've been open about your past, stripping to support yourself through school. How has that experience influenced your confidence, creativity, or even your lyrics today? Coming from a religious household, I accepted the fact that I would always have to carve my path in life. Being queer and a sex worker, I had to keep my head up and know that someone would always be unlike me. Knowing and accepting that has freed me from the pressure of needing to be what people expect me to be. I find that to be a fundamental character trait within myself, and it seeps into the music. Your music often invites listeners to embrace vulnerability and weirdness unapologetically. What do you hope "Star Baby" empowers people to feel or do after listening? I hope Star Baby allows people to see the best version of themselves. It allows people to accept who they are without shame or embarrassment, even if they don't know exactly who they are yet.

Photos by Christian Sabo Just weeks after captivating millions of viewers on American Idol   Season 23, Top 14 standout Amanda Barise is wasting no time staking her claim in the music industry. Dubbed "perfection" by Carrie Underwood after a powerhouse vocal performance, the New Jersey native dropped her debut EP, Cute & Deadly . It is a bold, defiant statement from an artist ready to make serious noise on her terms. The three-track EP is a sonic snapshot of Amanda's evolution: emotionally honest, confidently unapologetic, and soaked in alternative R&B and neo-soul. Entirely written by Amanda and co-produced alongside Grammy-winning engineer Max Faigen, Cute and Deadly  introduces a new sound that sits somewhere between SZA's emotional grit, Janelle Monáe's flair, and Jazmine Sullivan's raw vocal power. Yet it remains distinctly Amanda through and through. The title track, which dropped on May 14, is a bold anthem of self-realization, capturing the duality Amanda has become known for: soft yet firm, graceful yet unfiltered. It is followed by the sensual, smooth "Girl Like Me," a confident self-call to action that turns inward without losing fire. Rounding out the set is "26," a vulnerable ballad that reflects on life, timing, and the importance of seizing the moment, even when it doesn't go to plan. " Cute and Deadly  is a reminder that I've always been that girl," Amanda explains. "I've had to fight through depression, self-doubt, and years of people in the industry telling me I needed to change to fit in. But through Idol  and this music, I rediscovered myself. I'm not waiting for permission anymore. I'm not afraid to take up space." Barise's journey has been anything but linear. A graduate of The New School, where she earned a BFA in Jazz and Contemporary Music and a BA in Culture and Media, Amanda was never just a singer. She's a student of her craft, with roots grounded in both performance and academic understanding. Her Idol  run provided a national stage for her powerhouse vocals, featuring emotional renditions of Aretha Franklin and Alicia Keys, as well as theatrical showstoppers like "Defying Gravity." Still, as compelling as her covers are, it is her original work that reveals who Amanda truly is. She's not just cute. She's not just deadly. She's both. And that duality is her power. With lyrics like "They thought I wouldn't make it / But now I am the one," Amanda is reclaiming the narrative, responding to critics, doubters, and anyone who underestimated her with clarity and class. She also isn't afraid to discuss tough topics. Being an artist in a social media-saturated world, facing the pressure to succeed as a woman in the industry, and navigating the vulnerability of healing publicly after private battles are all themes she addresses without flinching. "I used to think I had to earn being myself," Amanda says. "Now I know I just had to be brave enough to share her." If "Cute and Deadly " is her opening chapter after Idol , then we are witnessing the rise of an artist who is not only aware of her worth but is fully prepared to show the world exactly what she is made of. Barise is no longer asking to be seen. She is commanding it. And from the sound of this EP, she is not going anywhere. What inspired the title Cute & Deadly, and when did you first hear someone call you that? Cute and Deadly was inspired by exactly how I was feeling at the moment I wrote it. As a woman in the music industry, I've often felt pressure to soften my image to be perceived as a little "cuter" to be heard or to avoid being seen as difficult when I have a strong opinion. The title is my response to that: yes, I might look sweet, but I'm serious about what I do, and I know how to command space. It's also a nod to all the people who didn't believe in me, who maybe said I wouldn't make it, and now I see them watching my every move. It's a little wink, a little warning. You've been incredibly open about your battle with depression. How has that shaped your artistry? My struggles with depression and anxiety have always been deeply tied to my music. Writing and performing are how I process those feelings; it's how I honestly survive them. Music has been my outlet, my healer, and my connection to people going through their battles. If I didn't have that emotional depth, I don't think I'd be able to write the songs I do. How different is Amanda Barise today compared to the one who auditioned for Idol? Amanda today is more grounded and more sure of who I am as an artist. Before Idol, I worried that my sound was too different or too specific for people to connect with. However, I now realize that being different is exactly what makes it powerful. I don't need to mold myself into something more palatable. My sound will find the people it's meant to reach. What was it like working with Max Faigen on this project? Working with Max (who's also my partner) is such a gift. He gives me the space to be an artist fully. When I hit a creative wall or need a fresh perspective, he steps in so naturally and helps elevate the work. He has contributed so much to this EP, both musically and emotionally. I truly couldn't have finished this project without him. What message do you hope fans take away from this EP? I hope listeners walk away feeling seen in all their stages of growth and development. You are never too much, too quiet, too emotional, too anything… you are exactly who you're meant to be. This EP is about owning every version of yourself, even the ones you're still healing from. The people who are meant for you will find you, no matter what you've been through. It's okay to evolve and rewrite your narrative; that's what I'm doing, too.

Kevin Silvester 's O2 is the kind of debut EP that arrives with zero hesitation and a whole lot of heart. It's loud, vulnerable, unfiltered, and hilarious in the way that only real pain can be when processed through the lens of self-awareness. Mixing Y2K pop-rock nostalgia with modern queer storytelling, Silvester invites listeners into a chaotic yet cathartic coming-of-age soundtrack. From the opening track, "I THINK I NEED THERAPY!" the tone is set. It's funny, it's messy, and it's painfully honest. Silvester grapples with emotional burnout, self-sabotage, and financial barriers to mental health, then turns it all into a punchy pop-punk anthem. The absurdity of spiraling is made digestible by wit, and it sets the emotional foundation for what follows. "Stranger" and "DELULU" continue the journey with raw self-reflection and delusional obsession. At the same time, "Orbit" explores the familiar queer heartbreak of being led on by someone still struggling with their identity. Silvester's lyrical honesty cuts deep, but it is cushioned by sticky hooks and confident melodies that keep the listener dancing even through the sadness. The lead single, "Bad Omen," is a standout moment. It takes the red flags we all pretend not to see and frames them as fate, superstition, and signs we choose to ignore. The track blends sharp lyricism with melodic grit, offering one of the most relatable breakup reframes in recent memory. From the realization of "Fool's Gold" to the pretend pleasantries of "Hurt People," the EP follows an arc of self-awareness without losing its chaotic charm. Closer "Sleepwalker" delivers a haunting finish, pairing longing with a surreal, emotional haze. What makes O2 feel so refreshing is how it embraces contradictions. It is bitter and sweet, dramatic and grounded, funny and sincere. Silvester doesn't try to clean up the mess, and he invites you to dance in it. With this release, he proves he is not just a songwriter but a storyteller for the anxious, the overthinkers, and the emotionally honest. You named the EP O2  as a nod to both oxygen and the year 2002. Could you elaborate on how those two ideas relate to each other in your mind? These eight songs came from a place of pure catharsis. Writing them felt like a survival instinct, as essential as breathing. In through the nose, out through the ballpoint. That’s where the ‘O₂’ comes in. It represents oxygen, the life force that kept me going creatively. However, it’s also a nod to 2002, the year I was born, and the era of pop-rock that helped shape my identity. Artists from that time, like Avril Lavigne and The Veronicas, were my lifeline growing up, and that sound lives at the core of this EP. “BAD OMEN” stands out as a lead single. What makes that song feel like the centerpiece of the EP for you? It’s my favorite track on the EP because it’s just so boppy. I genuinely can’t be in a bad mood when it’s playing, even though the lyrics are devastating. That contrast is what makes it feel like the centerpiece for me. It captures the heart of the whole project: turning emotional chaos into something you can dance to. It’s dramatic, it’s catchy, it’s unhinged in the best way, and that’s the energy I wanted this EP to live in. Your lyrics walk the line between comedy and emotional chaos. How do you find that balance when writing? Comedy and emotional chaos are the same thing to me. They both come from the same raw, uncomfortable place. I’ve always used humor as a way to survive the heavy stuff. When I’m writing, I don’t separate the two. I let the heartbreak and the punchlines sit side by side. If a lyric makes me laugh and flinch at the same time, I know I’ve hit something honest. That balance feels true to how I process the world. As a queer artist, how important was it for you to represent specific LGBTQ+ experiences in songs like “ORBIT” and “DELULU”? It was everything. Growing up, I didn’t see many specific queer experiences reflected in the music I loved - especially the messy, unfiltered parts like internalized homophobia, delusion, or longing for people who will never be mine. Songs like ‘ORBIT’ and ‘DELULU’ are me reclaiming that space. They’re not just ‘love songs that happen to be gay.’ They’re deliberately queer in their chaos, humor, and heartbreak. And I think a lot of LGBTQ+ people, especially young ones, deserve to hear those stories told with that kind of specificity and honesty.  What do you hope someone screaming these lyrics alone in their car takes away from this EP? I want them to feel fierce and unbothered like screaming those lyrics alone in the car is their rebellion against all the crap they’ve been dealt. This EP is for anyone tired of hiding their messy feelings or pretending everything’s fine. It’s a middle finger to the idea that you have to ‘keep it together.’ If they blast these songs and feel like they’re flipping off the world while doing it, then I’ve done my job.

When it comes to music that leaves a lingering ache in your chest, few do it quite like Armin Morshed . The Iranian-born, Los Angeles-based composer, producer, and guitarist continues to prove why he’s one of the most captivating voices in the fusion scene with his latest single, “ I Think About Us Sometimes .” Released as part of the Virtual Planet album, a cross-cultural jazz project featuring icons like Dave Weckl and John Patitucci, the song blends pop, rock, and jazz into a timeless soundscape soaked in memory and melancholy. “I Think About Us Sometimes” is more than a song; it’s a moment. From the first soft strum to the soul-bearing guitar solo that closes the track, Morshed captures the fragile in-between: the space between holding on and letting go, between comfort and truth. Written and produced by Morshed himself, the single lives in emotional limbo, echoing the vulnerability of unresolved love. “It’s not just a love song for me. It’s a confession. A storm. A question that doesn’t need to be answered, only understood.” And that’s exactly what this track accomplishes. Set against warm, vintage textures and understated instrumentation, Morshed’s voice floats through the verses like a late-night thought you can’t quite shake. There’s restraint in the way he builds the track, no overproduction, no flashy crescendo, just pure, lived-in emotion. The title itself, “I Think About Us Sometimes,” feels like a whisper across time, the kind that resurfaces when you least expect it. The final guitar solo speaks volumes without saying a word, expressing what Morshed describes as “the only answer I could offer to a situation like this.” It’s haunting, heartfelt, and open-ended, exactly the kind of emotional catharsis that jazz, at its best, can offer. A former prodigy of the Tehran Conservatory and a Berklee College of Music Presidential Scholar, Morshed’s musical pedigree is impossible to ignore. But what sets him apart isn’t just his technical prowess; it’s his emotional intelligence. Whether writing for Persian pop stars or performing with Grammy-winning jazz legends, Armin approaches music as a conversation, one that values feeling over perfection. This single marks another bold step in Morshed’s journey as an artist who resists genre boundaries. Raised on Persian music, educated in Western jazz, and now experimenting with English and Farsi songwriting, he’s building a bridge between cultures and emotional landscapes. And while “I Think About Us Sometimes” may center on romantic reflection, its message reaches further. Inspired by existential psychologist Irvin D. Yalom, Morshed urges listeners to embrace their loneliness, to see it not as a flaw but as a universal human experience. If Virtual Planet gave Morshed a platform to experiment, “I Think About Us Sometimes” gives him a spotlight, and he uses it to shine a light on the deepest parts of us. Expect his upcoming independent album to build on this sonic and emotional maturity, as he prepares to merge the many worlds he inhabits: jazz, pop, Iranian roots, and raw human vulnerability. Until then, this track is more than enough to sit with, especially on the nights you’re not sure what’s next. “I Think About Us Sometimes” feels deeply personal and emotionally raw. Was there a specific moment or experience that sparked the creation of this song? Yes. It started with the first time I fell in love. It was intense, messy, and honestly, very immature, and I didn’t know how to process any of it. I didn’t know how to act, how to communicate, or how to let go. But that confusion gave birth to something honest. The song isn’t just about the love itself; it’s about the emotional space around it, the tension between hope and heartbreak, where you're holding onto something that might already be slipping away. That feeling, the quiet limbo between staying and leaving, stuck with me. In real love, I think there's always that moment where you’re forced to make a hard choice. That pressure to either fight for it or walk away… It’s heavy. And that exact emotional weight is what the song lives in. Your work blends jazz, pop, Persian music, and more. How do you approach merging these genres while staying true to your artistic identity? For me, it’s never been about sticking to a genre; it’s more about being honest in the process. I grew up listening to everything: jazz, pop, Persian classical music, blues, experimental... So when I write, all of those influences just show up naturally. Genres are labels, but music isn’t built that way. It's shaped by what you feel and what you've lived. I’m mostly rooted in jazz and blues as a player, but I also create Persian music because that’s a part of who I am, culturally and emotionally. I never want to lose that connection to my people or where I come from. My sound is just a reflection of all of it, the collision of the East and the West, the personal and the universal. You mentioned the influence of Yalom’s Existential Psychotherapy on this release. How has philosophy or psychology shaped your songwriting over time? Tremendously. Philosophy and psychology are probably the biggest forces behind my songwriting. I’ve studied both formally and informally, through classes, therapy sessions, books, and every bit of it has helped shape not only how I write, but how I understand myself and others. To me, songwriting is storytelling. And when you’re exploring existential ideas like meaning, death, isolation, or freedom, the stories you tell become deeper. They move beyond surface emotions into something more universal. The more you understand yourself, the more honestly you can write, and the more others can see themselves in your work, too. As someone who’s written and produced over 100 songs for other artists, how does writing for yourself differ, emotionally and creatively? Writing for myself gives me complete freedom. I don’t have to explain anything or meet anyone else's expectations. I can chase an idea that only makes sense to me, and that’s a rare kind of joy. But writing for others is just as meaningful, in a different way. There’s a beauty in collaboration, in letting go of your ego and meeting someone halfway to create something neither of you would’ve made alone. You learn a lot when you step outside of your own head and create in someone else’s universe. Both sides feed each other; my solo work benefits from the experiences I’ve had with other artists, and vice versa. You’ve performed with legends and studied at some of the world’s top institutions. Looking ahead, what do you hope your upcoming album says about who you are, not just as a musician, but as a person? Honestly, I don’t want the album to be some grand statement. I see it more as a small collection of stories, little windows into moments I’ve lived, felt, or imagined. I’m not trying to impress anyone or check any boxes. I just want to make something that feels sincere, something that people can sit with and find a piece of themselves in. If the songs can make someone feel seen or help them pause for a moment in their own lives, then that’s enough. I think we all crave stories, ones that help us feel a little less alone, or just remind us of beauty, pain, endings, and beginnings. That’s what I’m chasing generally.

Jakub Chmelar ’s debut single, “ Speechless ,” is not just a song. It is a revelation. Born from a moment of quiet heartbreak and a long history of self-silencing, the track unfolds like a personal uprising. It is haunting, honest, and deeply necessary. Chmelar, an actor and artist originally from the Czech Republic, delivers this musical theater-influenced pop ballad with aching vulnerability. What makes “Speechless” so compelling is its shift from reflection to resistance. The track begins softly, a gentle unraveling of years spent conforming, but grows into a powerful anthem of reclamation. It captures the emotional toll of invisibility, then flips it into something unshakably proud. Released during Pride Month 2025, “Speechless” arrives with a sense of urgency. The music video amplifies the message, featuring powerful imagery like anti-LGBTQ+ legislation scrawled across Chmelar’s body. Every frame is deliberate. Every detail is layered with meaning. From soft lighting that mirrors vulnerability to fierce choreography that embodies defiance, the visual makes the personal political. Vocally, Chmelar delivers with clarity and emotional weight. There is no need for theatrics. His voice is the protest. The line “I didn’t know how quiet I had become” hits especially hard, speaking to the silent compromises many queer people make to survive. What elevates “Speechless” beyond a debut is its scope. It is a love letter to the LGBTQ+ community, a warning to those who still seek to erase queer voices, and a reminder that authenticity is not a weakness. It is strength. Jakub Chmelar does not require permission for this release. He reclaims space with grace and fire. “Speechless” is a song that will resonate long after Pride. It is a mirror for those still finding their voice and a megaphone for those ready to use it. “Speechless” is such a personal debut. Was there a specific moment that pushed you to write this song finally? It was during a trip to London. As I walked through the streets, a sentence kept repeating in my head:  I was left speechless, but I was ready to speak.  That phrase stayed with me. I realized how much the place I lived in was shaping me, shaping my personality, and forcing me to suppress the core of who I truly am. It became a turning point. I became aware of how censored I had become in terms of self-expression, and I knew something had to change. When I got back home from that trip, I wrote the lyrics. At first, I did not intend to release them as a song. It was more of a personal release as I put my thoughts on paper. But that sentence kept echoing in my head. I kept going back and forth on whether to share it or not. Then came the moment that decided for me. I read an article about Donald Trump taking over a museum space, which led to an LGBTQ+ artist’s exhibition being canceled. It felt like a direct attack. Not just on that artist but on all of us in the LGBTQ+ community. On me, as an artist. That was it. I knew I had to release  Speechless . As the lyrics say,  “I won’t be speechless anymore.”  I refused to stay silent. I refused to be censored or erased. Can you walk us through the symbolism in the music video, especially the legislative references? Although the song and video can resonate with many people,  Speechless  was created specifically for my LGBTQ+ community, and that is reflected in every visual choice. It is a journey from censorship to liberation, from silence to expression. The entire video uses the colors of the rainbow. If you look closely, each sequence includes a different shade from the Pride flag. One strong image is me inside a black-and-white television. That represents the way media filters us, restricts our stories, and tries to define how we are seen. Even in that space, I begin to break out and transition into full color. The most powerful moment is when bill numbers are written across my chest. These are real anti-LGBTQ+ bills that have been proposed or passed in the United States. They are direct attacks on our rights and our existence. Including them was my way of saying, “You can try to erase us, but I am still here.” I will not be erased. I will not be silenced. I will not be speechless. That moment ties directly to why I wrote the song in the first place. How has your background in musical theater influenced your approach to songwriting? It shaped everything, especially my vocal style. For a long time, I was trying to fit into a mainstream pop sound. I was creating music that I thought would work better on the radio, but it never felt authentic to me. I was creating for the sake of creating, not from a place of truth. Musical theater taught me the importance of storytelling through song. It helped me find what suits my voice, not just technically but emotionally. Once I leaned into that, everything changed. I found my sound and my voice. The music became more meaningful, and it started connecting with people on a deeper level. What has been the most meaningful reaction you’ve received since the release? There have been so many beautiful responses, and I carry each of them in my heart. But the one I will never forget was the very first message I received. It was from a transgender woman in Australia, someone I had never met. She told me that  Speechless  was exactly what she needed to hear that day. And I cried. That moment meant everything to me. From the beginning, my goal was simple. If this song could help just one person, then I would feel like I did my job. That message confirmed it. It reminded me that real change happens step by step. Helping one person at a time can truly make a difference in the world. At that moment, I felt like I had not only found my voice but had also helped give someone else theirs. What do you hope queer listeners feel when they hear “Speechless” for the first time? I hope it gives them the voice they need. It gives us the visibility we deserve and the courage to keep pushing for a better future. Most of all, it reminds them that they are not alone. Being seen, being heard, and being unapologetically yourself is a kind of power no one can take away.

New York City-based singer/songwriter and producer Jasmine McMorran returns with her ethereal new single “ Nightingale ,” a deeply spiritual and soul-stirring track that explores the cosmic pull of twin flames. With a blend of alternative, indie, and soft rock influences, “Nightingale” taps into something both timeless and timely: a universal longing to feel seen, known, and reunited with a piece of ourselves in someone else. It’s a track that feels as intimate as a whispered memory and as vast as the universe itself. The song centers around the quiet yet electric moment when two twin flames find each other, whether for the first time or after lifetimes apart. Jasmine’s emotive vocals and atmospheric production draw listeners into the intimate, wordless connection that transcends attraction or logic. “When I was drifting to space, you brought me back, oh to this place,” she sings, a lyric that perfectly captures the grounding magic of encountering a soul that feels like home. The track balances lush textures with raw lyricism, making it one of her most compelling works to date. McMorran’s journey to this release is one of rare perseverance. After facing a near-fatal e-bike accident in 2024 that left her with serious spinal and leg injuries, she rebuilt herself physically, mentally, and creatively. While undergoing intense physical rehabilitation, Jasmine wrote and produced music from her hospital bed using just her iPhone and GarageBand. “Nightingale” is more than a love song, it’s a testament to survival, transformation, and the healing power of creation. It represents the light that music can offer even in life’s darkest moments. The song also pays tribute to a significant loss. Jasmine wrote “Saint” earlier this year in memory of L.P., a lifelong family friend and champion of her artistry. With “Nightingale,” she channels the same emotional honesty, blending the celestial with the deeply personal. From early GarageBand demos at age 13 to label meetings and sessions with Grammy-winning producers, Jasmine McMorran has been on a decade-long journey of growth. Now, with “Nightingale,” she stands tall as an artist whose story is written in both scars and stardust, and she’s just getting started. "Nightingale" beautifully captures a spiritual connection. Was there a specific experience that sparked this song? Thank you! I am grateful I could portray the spiritual aspect of connecting with someone on that cosmic level. When I first wrote Nightingale, I thought a lot about the time I first crossed paths with someone. It was a type of introduction that felt as if it had already been written in the stars. When I first looked into her eyes, I felt an immense familiarity, accompanied by a feeling of relief and peace, as if I had finally reunited with someone I knew, perhaps in a past life or a parallel universe. Writing Nightingale was a process of exploring such mystical rendezvous and soul-to-soul connections that are hard to explain without considering the spiritual elements of once-in-a-lifetime, unique encounters.  How has your healing journey after the accident shaped your creativity and musical voice? When considering music and its profound healing force and therapeutic outlet, I can attest that it has truly saved my life. When I was navigating my new normal after the accident, I would pick up my guitar—however painful it was, even the slightest weight on my spine—and find so much peace and purpose as I delved into my creativity during those times. I would put together covers and new songs, and I would feel less overwhelmed. Rather than thinking about the next hour, day, month, and years ahead, opening Logic Pro X and letting the music and creativity flow helped me stay present and inspired to keep going. I will never forget sitting outside of my hospital room in a wheelchair, trying my best to stay upright and remain conscious despite the pain, putting my headphones on, and playing a virtual piano on GarageBand iOS. I felt a sense of hope as I tapped each "key," and although I couldn't yet record and finish the demos created, music gave me something to look forward to as I left still at wheelchair level at the time. I thank God for music, which is truly a healing force and a universal language. As I continued on my road to recovery, I began performing live at karaoke bars, spending many nights surrounded by fellow creatives and positivity. Visiting those safe spaces in the city was truly like rehabilitation, swaying ever so slightly to the rhythm and eventually making progress as time went by. Through such a chapter, I also found solace and passion in listening to music, discovering new artists, creating playlists, and finding the courage to take that small step, bit by bit, as the music comforted my ears on those initial adventures in the city, through sweat and tears.  You've worked with a range of producers over the years; what do you look for in a creative collaborator? Definitely! Collaborating is crucial in developing and building your career as an artist, including networking and getting to know fellow artists and producers who share your passion and creativity. When considering the ideal creative collaborator, I appreciate working with someone who explores the deeper meaning, is motivated to bring about change through lyrics, and helps others in various ways through their creative direction. I also appreciate fellow artists and collaborators in general who value being humble and kind, considering the other artists and how oftentimes there's a lot that can go on in each other's personal lives. I greatly appreciate it when I feel that compassion and work together in an uplifting way, praising each other's gifts and work while also recognizing our contributions. When such an ideal creative collaborator checks all of those boxes, talk about a dream come true! Yet, it's just as rewarding and enriching to collaborate with a fellow creative who may not check all the boxes but who shares an electrifying passion for music and a shared vision when working on a project. After all, learning to compromise and work with professionals throughout the industry is just as essential when collaborating.  Can you share what "Saint" and your connection to L.P. taught you about music as a form of remembrance? When my family friend L.P. passed away, I remember feeling immense despair and disappointment in the world. As people continued with their days, in those moments, I wish everyone knew who we lost. In writing "Saint," I felt a sense of closure and comfort in sharing with my audience the legacy and kindness that my family friend radiated, extending beyond this world. In addition, there was this sense of empowerment and justice in writing about what I imagined my family friend's final days and moments on Earth may have been like. Being able to voice my sorrow and share the song as a form of remembrance in honor of her memory taught me the power of music for both the listener and the artist. It is a healing force for all, and I will never forget the process of recording the song. I had done the vocals and production at Lounge Studios in NYC, with a view of the cityscape. I still cannot quite explain how the producer felt the intuition to put lullaby-type bells into the mix without me requesting or mentioning that idea when those similar delicate bells would be all that I would listen to: lullaby music in those initial days and weeks upon hearing of my family friend's passing, as she had once been my babysitter at just 8 months old. There are many things we cannot quite explain.  Looking ahead, what's next for you, sonically, emotionally, or spiritually? As I think about the future, some days I am unsure what tomorrow may bring, and in many ways, there is beauty in that. Realizing just how incredible it is to have overcome and accomplished so much—even in those small milestones —is a testament to the incredible power of perseverance. Whether it's recent life-altering occurrences or the reason I first picked up my tie-dye guitar more than a decade ago, whatever tomorrow brings, without a doubt, my 12-string guitar will be nearby. I look forward to one day polishing and finalizing an album and strive to improve and refine my sound and overall artistic ambitions continually. In many ways, I have found that I shine brightest in the studio when I sing to the stars and cosmos. While I enjoy writing lyrics that pertain to matters of the heart, I also hope to expand my songwriting and production to more celestial, spiritually inclined pieces. Whether it's the atmospheric synths or some mighty-sounding organ accompaniments, I am very excited and grateful to be here, still pursuing my greatest passion and drive in life. Thank you to everyone at BuzzMusic for interviewing me today and for believing in my art.

With “ Beautiful Ruse ,” Phoenix-based rock artist JRtheBand proves that revenge can sound heartbreakingly beautiful. Equal parts vulnerable ballad and emotional gut punch, the track captures the raw aftermath of betrayal through haunting melodies, layered production, and vivid lyrical storytelling. At its core, “Beautiful Ruse” explores the universal experience of trusting someone completely, only to be deceived. Rather than wallowing in sorrow or descending into rage, JR masterfully balances both emotions. His approach is subtle and refined. Grief and bitterness coexist in a track that unfolds like a dramatic scene from a film. Built around his signature multi-instrumental talents, the song opens with delicate acoustics that gradually swell into lush cinematic textures. Each section of the song corresponds to a distinct emotional shift. Quiet moments are laced with fragility, while chorus bursts channel the burning urge for justice. It is a sonic balancing act, soft enough to ache, strong enough to sting. What sets JR apart is his ability to take deeply personal feelings and make them universally resonant. He does not ask for pity. He creates an outlet. “Beautiful Ruse” is not a traditional breakup anthem. It is a cathartic exhale, a melodic confrontation, and an invitation for the listener to process their hurt in a healthier way. The song also functions as a pitch-perfect soundtrack candidate. With a well-documented catalog and hands-on, creative control, JRtheBand is ready for sync placement in film or television. His ability to turn lived experience into emotionally gripping music makes him an ideal match for cinematic storytelling.“Beautiful Ruse” is a rock ballad that lingers. It does not scream. It simmers, and in that slow burn lies its true power. What personal experience inspired the emotional core of "Beautiful Ruse"?   I used to be a bit of a gambler in my younger days, and I got into a cash poker game with some folks who, let's say, didn't have the best credit. I ended up with a substantial IOU from a guy who said he would pay me back but never did. I always fantasized about chasing him down to the end of the earth to get my money back. But I realized I am much more of a lover, not a fighter, and eventually, I wrote this song to get those nasty thoughts out of my head once and for all. How do you approach blending vulnerability with musical power in your songwriting? JR: The song balances the anger and satisfaction of getting revenge against the helplessness and despair of being wronged and knowing there's nothing you can do about it. I had to admit that, finally, there's nothing I can do about it, so it's best just to let it go. Can you describe the cinematic vision you had for this song? "Beautiful Ruse" could easily accompany a moment of building tension in a movie, a slow-motion scene in a bar, a person driving, brooding and thinking about what happened, replaying the betrayal over and over in their head with regret in their eyes, and/or the protagonist having some big epiphany just before the credits roll.  What message do you hope listeners take from the revenge element of the song? Get your revenge by being successful in your own life; be the best version of yourself you can be, and that's the best way to get revenge on someone who betrayed your trust. Why is sync placement such an important goal for you, and how do you see your music fitting into film or TV? I feel that sync licensing allows a songwriter to focus on the music rather than striving to be an artist, where you have to put yourself out there and create a brand around mass marketability. I have no interest in being a touring performing artist. I want to write, produce, and license my music so more people can hear it without having to become a famous performing artist to accomplish that goal.

Philly-born trio Besphrenz aren’t just making music; they’re building worlds from backyard sheds, late-night sessions, and soul-baring verses. Their debut full-length bert arrives October 24, and the first taste comes with “yeah,” a hypnotic single featuring Anthony Green and Keith Goodwin . With dreamy indie rock, R&B textures, and raw storytelling, Besphrenz is crafting a sound that feels nostalgic, intimate, and entirely their own. The title of the album, bert , feels intimate and personal. What inspired you to name the project after Rob, and what does that name represent within the band dynamic? RD: We all have Robert in our names; I happen to have it as my first name, whereas it's CJ and Tays' middle name.  CS: As Rob said, we kind of always made jokes about the Robert connection (Bert Gang). When it came down to titling the record, it felt obvious to me that we should lift Rob up and give him this moment. He is truly the glue that holds all of this together, and his feel and sound have always been incredibly influential to us and our peers.  "yeah" has a very hypnotic, meditative energy. What was the process like collaborating with Anthony Green and Keith Goodwin, and how did you manage to keep the track feeling so seamless with so many voices? RD: I've been producing hip/hop for years, where you have songs with 4+ guys, all with different styles, so it'd be cool to do that rock version of that, each verse showcasing everyone's singing style. CJ has a great crooney tone, Anthony has an angelic high range, Keith's voice lends itself to great harmony, and Tay has a rappy style that is his own. Since it was unlikely we could write a hook that summed up what everybody said in their verses - just "yeah" worked. Keith and Anthony are the greatest to work with; we all look up to them and are honored to have them on it.  CS: Working with those dudes is so much more than the actual writing process. I love soaking up the stories and wisdom. I love those guys; they have become family at this point. Keith and I log a serious amount of phone hours every week, haha.  The visuals for "yeah" are filmed in The Shed where the album was created. Can you discuss what that space means to you creatively and how it influenced the sound of the album? RD: The big thing about the shed is that it feels so isolated from everything that we can make our stuff there that's unadulterated. It's also where we really all became friends.   CS: The shed has always felt like such a safe space to me; we quite literally grew up in there. That plays such a role in the feel of the record. It sounds like the shed.  Your sound fuses R&B, indie rock, and bedroom pop in a way that doesn't feel forced or trendy. Was there a guiding philosophy or feeling that drove the sonic direction of Bert ? RD: Don't worry about what everyone else is doing; find inspiration from within, try mixing sounds that typically don't go together, and let it be a little rough around the edges.  CS: I think Rob nailed this, but yeah, we just have to do what feels good to us and not stress what people may or may not want to hear. It's never felt particularly intentional with the whole genre fluidity thing; it always feels like we each brought a piece of ourselves to the song, and sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn't.  The album explores nostalgia and mundanity through a self-reflective lens. What do you hope listeners take away from bert , especially those hearing Besphrenz for the first time? RD: That we make whatever we want and that finding joy in mundane things makes life that much better.  CS: Life goes on. All you can really hope is that people feel something.