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Delta’ s music doesn’t knock at the door, it drifts in like a fog and lingers like a feeling you can’t name. The NYC-born project sits somewhere between indie rock, alternative experimental, and late-night soul-searching, serving up songs that feel less like traditional compositions and more like lucid daydreams caught on tape. Now, ahead of their upcoming self-written album dropping this October, Delta is offering a two-part single that feels like both a goodbye and a beginning. “Better Days / Hazy Afternoon” wasn’t part of the original plan ;  it emerged after the rest of the record was finished. But it doesn’t feel like an afterthought. It feels like the final missing piece. The album as a whole was never meant to be a solo mission. Delta originally wrote many of the songs with the intention of collaborating—sending pieces to musicians around the world, blending genres and voices. But somewhere along the way, the vision changed. Instead of outsourcing the emotion, Delta turned inward. And what emerged is a body of work built from sleepless nights, internal dialogue, and thoughts that had never made it out of the brain until now. The result is immersive and intimate—sometimes lo-fi and hushed, sometimes explosive and euphoric, always emotionally resonant. “This album is like repeating the phrase ‘this too shall pass’ in different sonic forms,” Delta explains. “It’s about not dwelling. It’s about ego death. It’s about doing what you have to do to move forward. Otherwise, what’s the point of life, right?” That philosophy is fully captured in “Better Days / Hazy Afternoon,” a two-part journey that mirrors the emotional arc of the album itself. “Better Days” opens with tight, subdued verses—anxious, quiet, almost claustrophobic- before blooming into a euphoric, triumphant chorus that sounds like the sun finally rising after a storm. “Hazy Afternoon” follows as the comedown, dreamy, nostalgic, and beautifully resigned. Together, the two songs form a perfect yin and yang of emotional processing. What makes “Better Days / Hazy Afternoon” even more special is its spontaneous creation. The album was done. The story had been told. But this track showed up fully formed, written in a single session. And suddenly, the narrative had a new ending—one that felt less like a period and more like an ellipsis. Delta’s DIY approach gives the single a raw magic that’s hard to replicate. It’s not over-produced or overly engineered. It’s vulnerable, a little messy, and fully human. It sounds like late-night thoughts spilled out on a four-track, but dressed up in shoegaze sparkle and experimental edge. There’s no need to overanalyze the lyrics—Delta’s strength lies in vibe and atmosphere. “Better Days / Hazy Afternoon” evokes that weird emotional limbo where you’re exhausted from hoping, but still too stubborn to stop. It’s for anyone who’s ever said “I’m fine” out loud but meant “I’m barely holding it together” in their head. Delta doesn’t expect you to decode hidden meanings or catch every reference. “I just hope people enjoy the vibe,” they say. And that’s the beautiful paradox of this project. It’s deeply personal and emotionally dense, but it’s also effortless to listen to. You don’t need to know the backstory to feel the weight of that chorus. You don’t need to understand the entire album to lose yourself in this track. In a music culture saturated with content engineered for 15-second consumption, “Better Days / Hazy Afternoon” feels like a quiet rebellion. A reminder that sometimes the most impactful music is the kind that simply gives you space to feel. With their October album on the horizon, Delta is only just beginning to show what solo artistry can do. And if this two-part single is the final puzzle piece, it’s also a powerful preview of what’s to come. What inspired you to release “Better Days / Hazy Afternoon” as a two-part single, and how does it tie into the rest of the album? 'Hazy Afternoon' was actually the first song I wrote for this upcoming album, and when I wrote 'Better Days', I thought the story carried through pretty well. You mentioned this track came after the album was technically finished—how did that influence its sound or message? 'On and On' did end up being written after the rest of the album was finished. I was trying to figure out the track listing and thought something was missing. Once I realized I needed a closing song, I thought about how I wanted it to sound, which was sort of cinematic and abrupt, leaving listeners on an edge. In a way, the album as a whole helped shape 'On and On' There’s a dreamlike quality to your music. What role do atmosphere and mood play in your songwriting process? That is such a compliment, thank you! I like to create a vibe while building a track, creating different parts and sections, and then organizing my thoughts like putting together a puzzle. You’ve worked in bands and writing teams before—how has going fully solo changed your creative process or perspective? Working on my own has made me think differently because in bands and writing rooms, you have other people to bounce ideas off of. When I’m by myself, I tend to question everything, so I try out dozens of sounds for each synth, different parts for each guitar line, different harmonies, etc., because I have a hundred different ideas for each song. Sometimes I’ll have three wildly different versions of the same song. Comparing that to working with other people, decisions tend to have to be made quicker. Basically, i’m super indecisive unless I really hit a groove, which I feel like I did with ‘On and On’, so I really hope everyone enjoys it as much as i do. If this song represents the emotional resolution of the album, what do you want listeners to carry with them after it ends? It’s more a feeling than an idea that I want to leave listeners with. That feeling when you’re dreaming and you know it, is the vibe I like to create when writing a lot of the music. That's why I named the album 'Lucid Dreams’, its sort of a comfortable but also unsettling place to be.

For Sardinia-born, London-based electronic artist  Michael It’z , music isn’t just sound ,  it’s sensation. Emotionally rich, sonically daring, and deeply personal, his new album Life is a 12-track ambient journey into the most vulnerable and transformative year of his existence: the year he became a father. Built on glacial textures, warped synths, and IDM-inspired rhythms, Life is Michael’s ode to the unpredictable, ecstatic, and terrifying experience of watching a life begin—specifically, the life of his daughter, Eleanor, born in October 2024. The record unfolds like a diary written in binary code and breath, exploring the highs, lulls, and liminal spaces between love and anxiety, chaos and clarity. The album opens with “Michael”, a 50-second spoken-word introduction that feels like a personal invitation into his world. From there, Life leaps into “First Breath,” an ethereal single released earlier this year. Pulsing like a heartbeat, its percussive patterns mimic the rush of life entering the body for the first time. It’s here that we begin to understand Michael’s sonic philosophy: less about song structure, more about emotional architecture. “Looming” explores anticipation, those suspended moments before a seismic change, while “I Love You” twists glitchy percussion and distorted piano into a storm of tenderness. It’s dissonant and cathartic, like trying to hold back tears and laughter at the same time. Then comes the soul of the record: “Eleanor.” Built on reverse piano and delicate drones, the track feels like a lullaby suspended in midair. It’s fragile and free, evolving in slow motion until it blossoms into a melody that feels both intimate and infinite. It’s not just a dedication—it’s a sonic photograph of new life. Though Life is rooted in IDM and electronica, Michael’s sound is deeply human. Take “Onyx,” a track inspired by the color of his daughter’s eyes. Or “Body Movement,” which interprets the physical firsts of a newborn through cold, mechanical rhythms—an intentional contrast between the sterile and the sacred. But not all of the record is joy. “Liminal Spaces” is suffocating, intentionally so—representing the emotional claustrophobia that comes with identity shifts and new responsibilities. Then there’s “Protect Me,” a post-rock-influenced piece that samples vocals discussing climate change and our responsibility to the next generation. It’s a reminder that bringing life into the world also means confronting the world’s fragility. “Anesthesia” captures surrealism and fear. “The Sky Was Black” examines the emotional weather within a relationship, moments of doubt, of difficulty, but also the grounding force of unconditional love. With vocal samples from Fellini’s La Dolce Vita, Michael layers past and present in a cinematic haze. And finally, we arrive at “Life.” The closer. The conclusion. Or maybe just the beginning again. Soft, reflective, and almost sacred in its quietness, it gently releases the listener from the emotional tension of the record. It’s the breath after the first one. When asked what he hopes people take from Life, Michael It’z doesn’t give us a prescriptive answer. “I hope people feel something,” he says simply. “Nothing specific—everyone is different. For me, the album is about the circle of life, but the final goal is to get people emotionally involved.” And Life does just that. It doesn’t scream for attention. It draws you in. You don’t listen to it as much as you fall into it. It’s music for the late nights when you’re awake for no reason except that your brain won’t turn off. For the moments when beauty and fear collapse into the same breath. With Life, Michael It’z has created more than an album. He’s created a time capsule of emotional evolution. One that speaks not in words, but in waves. This album is so intimate and cinematic. Did you approach Life differently than your previous work? Yes indeed. This album is very much different from all my previous works. This album is also different in terms of genres; it's more like trip hop and IDM, all my other albums are usually more ambient oriented. This record is very intimate, it's more personal, let's say, inspired by the most exciting and intimate period of my life, made while my wife was pregnant with our first daughter. In the album, each single track is inspired by a specific moment and feeling lived during that period, such as excitement, joy, and fear. I would say that this record is my most important work yet.  “Eleanor” is such a stunning tribute to your daughter. What was the emotional process of creating that track like? From the very first moment I thought about writing a song for Ellie, my only certainty was that the piano would be the leading instrument, because it is my favourite one and because I believe it has a unique and unparalleled emotional power. So I tried out a few chords and eventually went for a simple minor scale, repeated in a loop with some delays and accompanied by a soft angelic pad. The whole thing makes me think about how beautiful it is to look into her eyes every day. The writing process was quite fast and spontaneous; I'd even say this might be the track on the album I spent the least time working on.  “Liminal Spaces” and “Protect Me” introduce more tension and even panic. How do those feelings play into the broader story of Life? Yes, exactly as I mentioned before, this album is dedicated to my daughter, but also to my wife (who is my soulmate) and our relationship. Liminal spaces, Anesthesia, The Sky Was Black, and Protect Me are tracks that deal with the fears that a person can have while thinking about a future where there is no longer the two of you. The fear of not being enough, the fear of failing, and the constant anxiety brought on by everyday life.  In these tracks, I've amplified those aspects because it wouldn't be honest to say that pregnancy is only made of beautiful and positive moments. But in the end, these songs serve as a backdrop to an album that is both ambitious and joyful. With this album, I wanted to write my own hymn to joy. How do your Sardinian roots and London experiences influence your current sound? My roots have always held deep meaning for me, especially when it comes to my musical journey. Everything artistic in me was born in Sardinia, and it's thanks to her that I've become the artist I am today.  The sea resonates through every track I compose, the hush of the forests, the cadence of a sunset; these elements have always shaped my inspiration, and they continue to do so, even from afar. London, in turn, has offered me vibrations I have never experienced before. I have to admit, I've found and still find endless inspiration in the richness of British electronic music.    Living here has always been a dream of mine. I love this city deeply, for all it has given me and for everything it keeps offering.  If Life had to be described in one word or one color, what would it be, and why? If Life were a colour, it would be painted in stark black and white, streaked with a flash of acid green, like a dream half-remembered, chaotic yet luminous, ungraspable in meaning yet endlessly capable of wonder.

Let’s rip the band-aid off: The modern music industry is a lie wrapped in a filter, dressed up in fake streams, and delivered to your feed as #goals. Behind the curated tour footage, the viral song snippets, and the "just signed" celebration posts lies a brutal truth that almost no one talks about publicly: most artists are broke. And worse? They’re pretending they’re not. This isn’t about calling people out. It’s about calling out a system that demands illusion just to stay afloat. Because in a landscape where appearance equals opportunity, the pressure to look like you’re winning is stronger than the incentive to actually win. Streaming Killed the Middle Class Artist Sure, the internet democratized music. Anyone can upload a song now. But the truth is, unless you’re pulling in hundreds of thousands of streams per month , you're making peanuts. Spotify pays less than half a cent per stream. So even a song that gets 100,000 plays might earn you... $300. Try splitting that with a producer, engineer, and maybe a label cut. Now try paying rent. Streaming didn’t liberate artists. It killed the middle class. It created a two-tiered system: superstars with label budgets, and everyone else struggling to break even while pretending they’re thriving. Fake It Till You’re in Debt Because no one wants to book an artist who "isn't popping." No one wants to invest in someone who's not already perceived as successful. So artists fake it. They buy followers. They rent designer clothes for music videos. They spend their last $800 on a "content day" because without consistent visuals, you’re invisible. Wanna open for a touring act? Better have a lookbook, a video crew, a social presence, and a stream count that looks like someone gave a shit. Doesn’t matter if the art is good. The image  needs to say "major label energy" even if your bank account says overdraft. Who's Profiting From the Lie? Labels? They love the lie. Because it means artists will shell out thousands trying to "build a brand" before they ever get signed. Managers and marketers? Same story. The DIY artist funnel is their goldmine. And fans? They’re fed a curated fantasy where success looks instant and glamorous, not like 3am anxiety spirals and maxed-out credit cards. Meanwhile, artists keep quiet. Because admitting you’re broke in public means fewer collabs, fewer brand deals, fewer chances. Vulnerability becomes a liability. But Let’s Be Real This silence is killing us. Artists are working two jobs, putting out music they can't afford to promote, and watching others skyrocket on TikTok while wondering if they missed their shot. They’re crowdfunding basics like mixing and mastering. They’re burning out. They’re quitting. And we’re losing amazing art because the system was designed to reward illusion, not authenticity. The next Frank Ocean might be working night shifts and giving up because the pressure to fake success is too high. So What Do We Do? We start telling the truth. Loudly. Visibly. We normalize transparency around finances. We stop equating "buzz" with financial success. We value craft, not clout. And we build spaces that reward consistency, community, and art, not just aesthetics and reach. Because if we keep lying to each other, we’re just feeding a machine that eats artists alive. And real talk? The industry doesn't need another viral hit. It needs more honesty. It needs artists who know their worth without having to fake their wallet. So the next time you see a rollout that looks too good to be true, remember: It probably is. And maybe the most radical thing you can do as an artist today... is tell the truth.

The Star Prairie Project has officially released their highly anticipated eighth studio album, Little Gems, now available on all streaming platforms. True to its name, the album is packed with sonic treasures—none more immediately charming than the flirty, retro-tinged single “ Down Boy .” Written by founding songwriter Nolen R. Chew Jr. and performed by the ever-enchanting Ivy Marie, “Down Boy” is a lighthearted indie-pop ballad with irresistible hooks, shimmering instrumentation, and a story that toes the line between playful and provocative. Produced by longtime collaborator Rudiger, the track delivers a breezy groove and teasing vocals that radiate confidence and chemistry. The lyrics follow a familiar setup with an unexpected twist: a younger man makes a move on an older woman, and while she initially brushes him off, his persistence and charm begin to wear her down. By the final chorus, curiosity has replaced hesitation, and the once-dismissive “no” has softened into a tempting “we’ll see.” “It’s a fun song that’s not very serious,” says Chew. “It’s light and instinctive. Some naughtiness by suggestion can be intriguing in a song. I wanted a perfect pop rhythm with a mesmerizing effect, and this has that. It’s one of those tracks you don’t have to overthink. It takes you on a short ride, then it’s over, and you want to hear it again.” The inspiration? A simple moment in the kitchen. Chew had Ivy Marie in mind from the beginning, and when she delivered the vocals, it was exactly the flavor he envisioned—flirtatious, rich, and effortlessly cool. Her performance turns “Down Boy” into a standout moment on Little Gems, offering levity and sparkle amid the album’s more introspective tracks. While Chew didn’t perform on this specific song, “Down Boy” reflects the collaborative spirit that defines The Star Prairie Project. The band, based in Star Prairie, Wisconsin, continues to work with artists from across the world, from L.A. to London, bringing bold, genre-blending projects to life. Their past albums have explored everything from progressive rock to jazz fusion, and Little Gems adds yet another dynamic chapter to their catalog. With over 15 million streams and a growing international fanbase, The Star Prairie Project shows no signs of slowing down. If “Down Boy” is your entry point, buckle up—Little Gems has plenty more where that came from. “Down Boy” stands out with its flirtatious tone and playful storytelling. What inspired the decision to take a lighter, cheekier approach with this track, and how does it fit into the broader emotional arc of Little Gems? Nolen: “Down Boy” was the last song recorded for the “The Little Gems” album. I had a guitar riff in my head in a loop, and I already knew this was going to be an Ivy song (sing/produce), so I started thinking from the female perspective, and the lyrics just rolled out. I thought it would be fun to look at the situation from her perspective. Ivy’s voice is perfect for the song, with her wooing and cooing, it’s a flirty and fun tune. You’ve worked with a wide range of collaborators across this album. How did Ivy Marie’s performance on “Down Boy” elevate the track from your original vision, and what makes her voice such a strong fit for the song’s mood? Nolen: When I first wrote the song and sent the demo tape to Ivy it was just two simple tracks a vocal and acoustic guitar. Ivy’s voice is like a second instrument, and she added that fantastic percussion beat, and it was like Wow! She does so much with her voice, the subtle fills and passing notes, it’s really exciting to see how these added dimensions add such texture and flow. We were both really pleased with how the song came out in the end. The Star Prairie Project is known for its genre-blending and cinematic storytelling. How did you balance cohesion across Little Gems while still allowing each song, like “Down Boy,” to live in its own unique sonic space? Nolen: It kind of all happened naturally. We had a few songs left over from the ‘New Day at Dawn’ recording sessions. About enough for half an album. It was easy to pick up from where we were and continue with the momentum. The songs on ‘Little Gems’ fit so well together because they all naturally speak of different aspects of the human experience. Love, betrayal, introspection, purpose, and meaning, these are the themes we touch on that every human being can relate to at some point in their life. As someone who didn’t perform on this track personally, what’s your process like when handing over a song to another vocalist or producer? How do you maintain your artistic fingerprint while allowing room for creative freedom? Nolen: The Star Prairie Project is all about collaboration and content. It is literally all about the song.  What’s best for song is the primary criteria. We aren’t a show band with gimmicks. We rely on the power of our product. We are disparate musical artists who come together for the same goal. To write and record original radio-ready records. I am surrounded by so much talent in this project. I act as the manager and initiator.  I’m the primary songwriter. I get them started, and for the most part, I step back and let them do their magic. I’m not concerned about my artistic fingerprint, I’m more concerned with giving my team a long leash and letting them express their talent. I’m never disappointed, and it’s what makes us so diverse and genre-bending. “Down Boy” plays with themes of age, flirtation, and confidence. In today’s culture, how do you see music as a way to explore these dynamics playfully without crossing into cliché or overexposure? Nolen: Music, it seems, is always out in front, influencing culture, and sometimes it defines the timeless nature of humanity and how many of these themes are resilient and cyclical. All generations address these themes in music according to that moment in time. Our habits, manners, boundaries, and prohibitions reflect our expression of these subjects today. It is a fun time to explore these dynamics in a fun and tongue-in-cheek manner. Sometimes, a sexy outfit is more alluring than a full frontal. Now, try putting that into music. That’s the task of the songwriter.

Photo by Lena Nugent and Eli Eisenstein If you've ever locked eyes with a stranger and mentally planned your wedding before even exchanging names, Kayla Silverman  just wrote your theme song. The NYC-based glam-pop artist is back with her newest single, " Tell Me How ," a disco-tinged daydream about falling hard and fast for someone you barely know. It's not love. It's not lust. It's that irrational infatuation that hijacks your brain and makes you believe fate just walked into your subway car. And honestly? We've all been there. Floating on shimmering synths, cheeky harmonies, and Kayla's signature powerhouse vocals, "Tell Me How" captures that exact split-second moment when a stranger becomes everything. It's the musical equivalent of romantic delusion—cinematic, intoxicating, and just the right amount of unhinged. But don't get it twisted, while her vocals sound like they belong in a cathedral, her music videos live in a completely different dimension. For this release, Kayla teamed up with director Eli Eisenstein to create an over-the-top, hilariously awkward 80s JC Penney-inspired visual fantasy. Think: exaggerated lip-syncing, cringeworthy posing, and polyester-fueled seduction. It's sexy, it's absurd, and it's perfect. "In the end, it doesn't matter how sexy you actually look," Kayla says. "What matters is that you feel sexy. That you're caught up, that you're fantasizing, that you're completely in the moment." With roots in opera and a deep love for glam rock icons like Queen, Kate Bush, and Chappell Roan, Kayla has carved out her own universe—equal parts romantic renaissance painting and chaotic girl crush fever dream. Her music blends theatrical storytelling, rich harmonies, and glossy pop production, while her visuals often lean toward absurdist comedy and maximalist camp. "Tell Me How" follows her critically-received EP Sophisticated Lady and kicks off a series of new monthly releases from the rising alt-pop star. Known for her explosive live shows and East Coast tours, Kayla is quickly becoming a name to watch, especially if you like your pop dramatic, glam, and just a little bit unhinged. And if you're still thinking about that one stranger you never talked to... consider this your sign. "Maybe I'm feeding into the delusion," Kayla says, "but if you're hearing this song, take it as your sign to ask that person out. You know exactly who I'm talking about." You’ve described your style as “glam pop.” What does that mean to you, and how do you think “Tell Me How” fits into that identity? I’ve always been dramatic. Whether it’s through a gloriously rich arrangement, a theatrical outfit, or an over-the-top performance. Sonically and visually, I’m inspired by glam rock legends like T. Rex, Kiss, and especially Queen. But while I love their larger-than-life aesthetic and emotional intensity, I’ve never quite fit into the rock world. So, I coined my own term:  glam pop. “Tell Me How,” produced by Dean Gray, is a heart-on-your-sleeve, lust-fueled disco track that plays with that sense of drama. It leans into obsession, fantasy, and infatuation, but with a little sparkle. Visually, it’s just as bold. The music video takes place in a cheesy JC Penney-style photo shoot, where the campy glamour contrasts with the song’s emotional intensity. It’s all very seductive, tongue-in-cheek, and dripping with drama. The music video for this single is hilariously over-the-top. What made you lean into awkward 80s photo shoot energy instead of going full romance fantasy? This is one of the first intentionally sexy songs I’ve ever written, and for some reason, the word that kept coming to mind was  “Vogue.”  I wanted something glossy and glamorous, but the reality was that I didn’t have the infrastructure to pull off a fully polished, high-fashion music video. So, I flipped the concept on its head. I thought,  What’s the least sexy way to try to be sexy?  And immediately, a JC Penney-style photo shoot came to mind. I brought the idea to my dear friend Eli Eisenstein, who directed the video, and he ran with it in the best way possible. The result is this hilariously awkward, hyper-staged fantasy that plays with the idea that feeling sexy and looking sexy aren’t always the same thing. But honestly, that’s what I love most about it. Because in the end, it’s not about perfection; it’s about having fun and being fully present with the person you love. That’s where the real romance lives. Your roots in opera definitely shine through in your vocals. How do you balance the theatrical with the comedic in your music and visuals? Opera was truly my first love. I remember being eleven, sitting on the train, listening to the ballad  Du Bist Die Ruh,  and thinking,  This is what it feels like to be alive.  What’s always drawn me to classical music is its emotional range, how it can swing from sweeping, tearful arias to laugh-out-loud comedies that I still watch on rainy days. That sense of range deeply inspires my work. I want my visuals to feel like they could be pulled from a fine art museum, dramatic, regal, and timeless. My photos and cover art are where I tap into that seriousness and intensity. But my music videos are where I let the absurdity shine. They’re my way of saying,  yes, this may sound dramatic, but don’t take it too seriously. Each video is a chance to turn the glamour on its head and remind people that even the most theatrical emotions can come with a wink. It’s all part of the balance: the high drama and the humor, the fine art and the photo booth. What’s one irrational crush moment from your real life that could’ve inspired this song but didn’t?  This is a great question! I have these moments constantly. Pretty much anytime I see a man on the subway reading a book. I love them literate; what can I say? I play that game of trying to make prolonged eye contact without it actually being creepy, but I haven’t reeled any of them in yet.  If “Tell Me How” could soundtrack any iconic movie scene or pop culture moment, what would it be and why? I wrote this song with NYC in mind, so I have to say  Sex and the City . Unfortunately, I’m a Carrie cosplaying as a Samantha. “Tell Me How” lives in that space between lust and obsession, but with a wink. It’s self-aware, it’s dramatic, and it’s kind of making fun of itself the whole time. I also think of that scene in  500 Days of Summer  when they’re in the elevator, and she says, “I love The Smiths.” It’s such a fleeting moment of connection that instantly spirals into fantasy. I wrote this song hoping it could soundtrack those exact moments when someone falls in love just because the other person’s on the same elevator and  also  listening to Kayla Silverman. That would be cool.

Chicago's own   Jiggy Bars  is soaring to new heights with his latest single, "Birds Eye View," featuring She Love Law, a bold, reflective cut that blends street wisdom with an elevated perspective. Known for his sharp lyricism and smooth genre fusion, Jiggy once again proves that he's more than a rapper; he's a storyteller in flight. Where many hip-hop tracks focus on flex and flash, "Birds Eye View" pulls back. The track is a meditation on clarity, focus, and what it means to level up without losing one's sense of self. It's the calm after the storm, the insight that comes from making it through chaos and realizing what matters. With slick production and moody undertones, the song creates space for both ambition and reflection to coexist. "It's about trusting the process," Jiggy explains. "Staying grounded while flying high." That balance defines Jiggy's sound. Whether he's delivering gritty street bars or laying into melodic R&B grooves, there's always a duality at play: hustle and heart, ambition and awareness. In "Birds Eye View," he channels that duality into one of his most polished tracks yet. His delivery is calculated but relaxed, confident without ever being cocky. And She Love Law adds a smooth counterbalance, offering layered vocals that elevate the track's hook and emotion. Beyond the beat, "Birds Eye View" is about perspective, about stepping back from the noise of the world, the industry, and even your inner doubts and deciding to rise above. It's a reminder that clarity is a luxury earned through struggle. And Jiggy Bars is ready to claim that altitude. “Birds Eye View” feels like a personal checkpoint . W hat moment in your journey inspired the shift in perspective? Man, I'd say the moment I realized I couldn't keep moving the same way and expect different results. Life had me in a loop—same people, same habits, same patterns. Birds Eye View came from stepping outside that cycle, finally seeing the bigger picture. It was like hitting pause and saying, "Okay, who am I now, and where am I trying to go?" How do you stay grounded when you’re experiencing new levels of success or exposure? I keep my circle tight and real. My people hold me accountable and remind me where I came from. Additionally, I still lead a regular life—I'm in the city, I'm outside, and I see the struggles firsthand. That's what keeps the music honest. You can't ever get too high to forget the bottom. You’ve got a knack for balancing introspection and street energy—how intentional is that contrast in your writing? That's just who I am. I grew up with both—those street lessons and those quiet moments where you gotta sit with your thoughts. I don't separate them. That contrast is real life. So, when I write, I tap into both because that's the truth of what I've lived through. What was it like collaborating with She Love Law, and how did their voice shape the final version of the track? Working with She Love Law was smooth—his voice brought a whole new flavor. He came in with that melodic presence that added warmth to the track. I had the raw emotion in the verses, and he brought that soul to the hook. It made the message hit harder, but still felt like a vibe. If you could give advice to the version of yourself from five years ago, what would that “birds eye view” wisdom sound like? I'd tell him, "Stop doubting your gift. Trust the timing, but don't waste time. Everything you're going through is shaping you, even when it doesn't make sense yet. Protect your energy and keep your vision clear—your future self is counting on it."

British rocker-turned-country darling Bronnie  taps into her 8-year-old self on her latest single, "Own Girl Own World," a song born from old home videos, childhood daydreams, and a desire to finally step into her main-character era. Known for her high-energy rock anthems and fiercely loyal fanbase, Bronnie’s genre pivot brings a softer, more emotional edge to her sound, one that’s already resonating deeply with longtime fans and new listeners alike. In this exclusive, she opens up about the inspiration behind the song, her roots in imagination, and what it means to grow into the person you always dreamed of being. "Own Girl Own World" feels like such a personal full-circle moment. What did it feel like to channel your 8-year-old self during the writing process? When I was a kid, my siblings and I used to watch Hannah Montana all the time and would pretend we had our own reality show at home. I wanted it to be called Own Girl In Her Own World, and being the eldest (and biggest ego), I wanted to be the main character… A few years back, we were watching home videos & were reminiscing about ‘Own Girl in her Own World,’ and I thought it would be a great title, so that night, Own Girl Own World was created! You’ve built a huge audience in the rock scene—what inspired you to lean into country music now, and how has your fan base responded to the shift? The fans have responded so positively to the change! It’s still ’me’, it’s still Bronnie songs but with some more country influence, which has gone down well. Rock and Country have always been my two favourite genres, so why not mix both? There’s something powerful about turning childhood imagination into adult reality. What message do you hope young girls take away from this song? I want the message to be that you can be your own person and live your life the way you want, whilst also still being able to be vulnerable and letting someone love you. From topping charts across Europe to being championed by BBC Radio 1, you’ve already had major milestones. How does "Own Girl Own World" differ from your past work emotionally or creatively? There’s something about Country music that makes everything more emotional and important when it comes to releasing music in that genre. I feel spiritual; it was a big turning point for me, and I feel way happier in this genre than ever before. You’ve described this track as a theme song for a show you imagined starring in as a kid. If "Own Girl Own World" were an actual series, what would the opening scene look like? Oh well, we have a big family! I’m the eldest of 5; we have my parents and five cats, too. Plus, my siblings, partners, friends, and all my uncles, aunts, and family are around all the time! No one could probably understand the first scene due to 10 different people trying to talk at once, which is a regular occurrence in my family!

Los Angeles native Stefanie Michaela has always had music in her blood. From the moment she stood on her childhood fireplace hearth, belting original songs for her family, it was clear she was meant to be on stage. With a voice that earned her the nickname “the littlest girl with the biggest voice,” Stefanie’s musical journey has been one of fierce resilience, tireless determination, and unwavering heart. Now, after years of growth, setbacks, and a powerful return to the studio, Stefanie is stepping into a new era, one where she’s done playing small. Her latest single, “ Stay in Your Lane ,” is a bold, soul-stirring pop track that feels like a battle cry for anyone who's ever been underestimated, dismissed, or boxed in. Written from a place of deep personal truth, “Stay in Your Lane” is about reclaiming space and shutting out the noise of comparison and judgment. Stefanie delivers each lyric with commanding grace, inviting listeners to embrace their own path with confidence and clarity. The song is more than a warning, it’s an invitation: either support the journey or move aside. “You step aside and get out of my way, cause if you want to ride, stay in your lane,” Stefanie explains. “Together we can root for one another, but the second that you steer into my lane and start judging is the moment that I will just continue on in my own lane while silently being the best version of myself.” The message is universal, but it’s also incredibly intimate. For Stefanie, who took time away from the spotlight to raise her children and recenter herself, this track marks not only a musical comeback but a personal rebirth. “Stay in Your Lane” carries the perspective of a woman who’s fought to rebuild her dreams from the ground up and now stands rooted in self-worth. With her upcoming EP, Turning Pages, set to release this year, Stefanie Michaela is more than just an artist making a return; she’s a force coming into full bloom. “Stay in Your Lane” is just the beginning of a larger story about self-love, boundaries, and rising after the fall. “Stay in Your Lane” is such a powerful statement. Was there a specific moment or experience that inspired this track? I had been going through a lot in my relationships. I was tired of feeling like no matter what I did, I was being judged for it. I almost started to feel like I had to justify how and why I did things in my day-to-day life. I felt like I couldn’t be real with the people I was surrounding myself with, and that just wasn’t a good feeling. I decided the best thing for me was to keep my circle very, very small—surrounding myself with people who would truly lift me up, and whom I could support in return. I found myself being open and honest with my family about how hurt I had been feeling recently, and how I wished everyone would just stay in their own lane. I expressed that if people focused on themselves instead of constantly looking around and comparing themselves to others, everyone would be so much happier. I would often say that if people had a passion to return to and sprinkled that into their daily lives, there would be far less judgment of others, and everyone would stay in their own lane. You’ve described music as something that’s always been a part of you, even from childhood. How has your relationship with songwriting evolved now that you're a mother and returning artist? What’s wonderful now is that what I’m writing about is completely raw and real—true experiences that have shaped the person I am today. The best part about bringing my passion back is that nothing is holding me back anymore. I’m not biting my tongue or tiptoeing around the feelings I want to express. Now, I write whatever I want based on real experiences and genuine emotions, and that’s what makes each song so special. Every stage of life creates a new chapter—almost a new sound and a new version of yourself. With these life experiences, bringing music back into my life, and having my family involved, there’s no time to hold back. It’s all about being in the moment and showing the world that it’s never too late—and how reigniting your passion can truly nourish the soul. Turning Pages feels like both a metaphor and a mission. What are some of the emotional or personal ‘pages’ you had to turn to get here? I feel like I truly had to learn the hard knocks of the business in my early 20s. Because of what I went through early on in the music industry, I learned very quickly that trust and honesty don’t come easily. I thought to myself, okay—I can either fully pursue music and put starting a family on the back burner, or I can take the route of moving to the suburbs, back to where I grew up, get married, start a family, and do all the things we feel we should be doing—maybe possibly incorporating music later on in life. I just knew this was going to be it for me for a while, or possibly forever, and I had to be okay with that. In the moment, I convinced myself I was. I took my experiences with music, threw them under the rug, and didn’t intend to think about them because every time I did, there was so much hurt. I couldn’t bear the thought of what I went through and how I put my parents through all the highs and lows, the emotional roller coasters of the music business. A little over two years ago, I was offered an opportunity to go back into the studio with an LA producer—to do some writing, help with his library, and possibly demo work. The second I stepped back into the studio, all those feelings literally started rushing back. It was like reconnecting with my lost self. I was invigorated being there, but at the same time, it felt so strange. How could I have lost all those years without continuing to fulfill something I love so much? I was upset that I let the heartache and pain get in the way. Once again, I found myself doubting my decisions. But at that moment, I knew I had to stop being so hard on myself, be grateful for the opportunity, and just see where it would take me. That’s when a lightbulb went off—I realized I needed to create a new version of Stefanie Michaela. I asked myself: what would an EP or album look like for her? How far could we take this? And how could I incorporate my family and involve everyone to make it one big passionate project? You’ve trained in prestigious arts institutions and also taken time away from the spotlight. What lessons did you learn outside of the industry that shaped your artistry the most? Keep your circle small. Surround yourself with people who truly want the best for you. If you have a strong support system, that is everything. Finding your authentic self is what life is all about. When you believe in yourself and the message you’re trying to convey, your voice will naturally resonate with others. At this stage of my life, it’s literally now or never. What I thought was completely lost and out of my life has now come back in full force. I do believe things happen for a reason. I think it just wasn’t my time when I was younger—I needed to go through many life experiences to really appreciate the person I am today, which I hope truly shows through my music. It feels like everything was meant to be for me to start this new version of myself—starting now. What do you hope women, especially those navigating motherhood, identity, or self-worth, take away from your comeback and your music? What I want to say to all the mothers out there is this: it’s truly never too late to return to what you’re passionate about. If an opportunity comes your way and you’re not sure why or feel hesitant, maybe you should just test it out—it could be exactly what you’ve been looking for, even if you don’t realize it yet. If there is a passion you truly love and you can incorporate it into your daily life—whether that’s a dance class, horseback riding, or reading your favorite book—whatever it may be, if it takes you out of your routine and is something just for you, I say go for it! Doing something you love each day, something that makes you smile and feel happier, is amazing for your soul and inspiring for those around you. This will fill a void inside you that you may not even realize is missing. Going back to my passion has given me so much more each day to be excited about. I love bettering myself daily—practicing with my local coach, writing new songs to share with others, and getting into the studio to deliver my whole self authentically.

Photo by Wendy Wei Some art isn’t meant for the algorithm. It’s meant for you. Let’s say it out loud: some of the most powerful songs you’ll ever write might never trend. They might not hit a million streams. They might not even hit a thousand. And that doesn’t make them any less important. In the current culture of virality, where views measure success, saves, and TikTok trends, it’s easy to start believing that value equals visibility. But that’s a lie the algorithm wants you to believe, not the truth about your art. The Algorithm Has No Taste, It Has Targets Algorithms are not tastemakers. They are math. Designed to reward consistency, simplicity, and instant gratification. The kind of art that lingers, that hits you five minutes later in the silence, isn’t always the kind that goes viral. Do you know that one song you wrote in your bedroom at 3 a.m. that made you cry while recording the demo? That track you shared only with close friends because it felt too raw to pitch? That’s the kind of work we’re talking about. The stuff that changes you. The kind that doesn’t try to impress strangers tells the truth. That truth might never land on a For You Page. But it landed in you. You’re Not a Content Creator, You’re an Artist There’s a difference. Content creators optimize for reach. Artists express something real. That doesn’t mean you can’t have both. But when you start compromising emotional honesty for format-friendly hits, you slowly kill the thing that made your voice matter in the first place. Not every song needs to be a banger with a catchy hook ready for 15 seconds of social media clout. Some songs need to exist. For healing. For expression. For the person who will hear it six months from now and finally feel like they’re not alone. The pressure to always go bigger and garner more engagement is toxic for artists, as it prompts them to chase attention rather than genuine connection. Going Viral is a Lottery, Not a Milestone Here’s the truth: there’s no formula. You could drop your most brilliant, soul-crushingly good song tomorrow and watch it barely make a dent. Meanwhile, someone else is mumbling into an auto-tuned mic over a half-finished beat and hitting half a million plays by accident. That’s not a reflection of your talent. That’s the digital dice roll. Trying to chase virality as a goal is like planning your retirement around scratch tickets. It might happen. It might not. Either way, it shouldn’t be your definition of success. Redefine What Winning Looks Like If you measure your art by numbers alone, you will always feel behind. Start measuring it differently. Did the process of making it make you feel more like yourself? Did one person message you to say it helped them? Did you say something you’ve been afraid to say? Did you feel lighter after writing it? That’s a real impact. That’s the kind of win that doesn’t disappear after 24 hours on a feed. Some Art Isn’t Made to Go Wide: It’s Made to Go Deep Photo by Garret Schappacher We forget that most of the music we live by, the songs that feel like they saved us, weren’t written for mass approval. They were written in the dark. In silence. Without a focus group. They were personal. And that’s why they hit so hard. If you’re in a season where you feel like your best work is going unseen, don’t stop.  You’re not being overlooked. You’re being preserved. Sometimes, your most meaningful creations are waiting for the right person, the right moment, and the right ears, even if those ears are just your own. Final Thoughts Keep making what matters, even if no one claps. Keep sharing what’s real. Even if no one double taps. And remember this: your best work might never go viral. But it can still be legendary because some art was never meant to go viral. It was meant to be yours.

If you've ever walked out of a movie theater feeling completely unraveled, Everything After , the latest EP from rising alt-pop/rock outfit Noon Again , was made for you. The Northeast-based trio Aaron, Donovan, and Nick have carved out a sound that’s cinematic without being overindulgent, emotionally raw without being melodramatic. With Everything After, Noon Again takes us on a sonic journey inspired by the kinds of films that rearrange you. These aren’t songs that reference plot lines or scenes, and they tap into the feeling those stories leave behind. From the aching time-warp of “Everywhen” (inspired by The Time Traveler’s Wife), to the bittersweet nostalgia of “Let It Stay” (Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind), to the lonely tenderness of “I Only Meant to Look” (Two Lovers), Noon Again doesn’t just write songs, they translate emotion into melody. And for anyone who’s ever stared blankly at credits while trying to piece together what just shifted inside them, this EP will hit like a quiet revelation. “We don’t want people to just hear these songs. We want them to feel the moment that inspired them—those scenes that stuck, long after the lights came up.” While most of the EP draws its emotional fuel from cinematic stories, a standout exception is “Some Stay, Some Go.” Born from a conversation with Nick’s young son, “How many friends do you have?” the track becomes a tender reflection on friendship, impermanence, and gratitude. It’s a soft-spoken thank-you to the ones who’ve stayed, especially the bandmates who’ve been there through every chapter. Releasing Everything After as a full project, rather than a string of singles, was intentional. There was no rollout strategy, no playlist algorithm chase, just a decision to put out the work in its whole form, because it felt right. It’s a project built slowly and released without delay, a rarity in today’s hyper-optimized music industry. And maybe that’s what makes Noon Again different. They’re not in a rush. They’re here to mean something. And with Everything After, they just might. You’ve said that 'Everything After' was inspired by the kind of films that rearranged you emotionally. Can you walk us through one of those cinematic moments that directly shaped a song? Definitely. Track 2, Let It Stay, was inspired by Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind. It’s Nick’s favorite film of all time (he’s a film nerd). The original story, the performances, the visuals, the soundtrack, the direction, the cinematography, it’s perfection. It’s the only film he’s rewatched more times than he can count, and it still hits the same every time. There’s this moment near the end, when Joel is mid-memory erasure. He’s sedated, losing Clementine piece by piece. His eyes suddenly opened. He doesn’t say a word, but you see the tears welling up. You feel the weight of what’s being taken from him. Memories, connection, love. It’s brutal and overwhelming, and it’s only a frame of his face! Let It Stay captures that exact kind of ache, the helplessness of knowing something beautiful is slipping away, and the part of you that still wants to hold on. You released the entire EP at once instead of teasing singles. In an era of algorithm-friendly rollouts, what made you take that approach? Honestly... Because we weren’t making this for anyone else. We made these songs for us. We were tired of scrolling through our group text and digging through cloud folders to find our music. We just wanted to listen to these songs the same way we listen to everything else. This wasn’t a marketing strategy, and it was a way to listen to the songs. But once we saw friends and family connecting with it, we figured... Maybe we should share it more widely. So here we are, seeing what happens. “Some Stay, Some Go” is especially personal. Can you talk more about the story behind that track? This was one of the first songs we finished, before we fully committed to writing every song about a film. It started with a question Nick’s son asked: “How many friends do you have?” Simple question, but it cracked something open. And let’s just say, he got a much deeper answer than he expected. That one question stirred up years of memories: the people who stayed, the ones who drifted, and the ones who changed everything and quietly moved on. It reminded us how everyone leaves some kind of mark, good, the not-so-good, or complicated, even. Even if there’s just one person still standing by your side, it’s not about the number. It’s about the depth of that connection. Turns out, Noon Again was the right place to put all of that to good use. Your sound blends alt-rock edge with pop clarity and cinematic atmosphere. What artists or moments shaped the Noon Again sound? Aaron grew up on country, but Cartel has been a massive influence since their first EP in 2004. Lately, he’s been into Father of Peace, a band with a seriously fresh sound. Donovan listens to just about everything, from vaporwave like Death’s Dynamic Shroud to psych-folk like The Incredible String Band, but his biggest influence is La Monte Young. Nick’s in that same boat, spinning everything from David Bazan to Braden Bales to Glassjaw. If we’re talking core influences, Name Taken and Acceptance are huge for Nick. Absolute legends. So yeah, it’s a mix. --If you think we sound like Cartel or Acceptance, we’ll be over here quietly losing it, and updating our “For Fans Of” the second we recover. We are very curious to see who you compare us to. We’ve had a hard time figuring that out.-- The EP closes with an emotional weight that feels unresolved, in a good way. What do you want listeners to carry with them after hearing  Everything After ? We’ve listened to these songs more times than we can count, and they still hit us in different ways. We’re not trying to push a specific message; we just hope they make you feel something. If one of these songs takes you somewhere unexpected or helps you sit with something you’ve been carrying, then that’s more than enough.