Scarlet Fever is not here to be labeled as a promising young band. With “ Gaslight ” and “Sublime,” the Vancouver alt-rock quartet basically asked, what if we made music for people who have been emotionally mangled but still wake up hot and self-aware? They delivered. Hard. Still barely old enough to rent a car, the band has already figured out something artists twice their age struggle with. Rage and softness can exist in the same body without canceling each other out. “Gaslight” hits like someone finally naming every lie you swallowed in a relationship you should have escaped months earlier. The distortion is not tasteful. It is messy, sour, suffocating. Exactly how psychological manipulation feels when you are trapped inside it. The percussion kicks like it is trying to break through the drywall. The vocal performance is not cleansed or pretty. It is honest. The way a bruised truth sounds when you spit it instead of whispering it. Scarlet Fever pivot and drop “Sublime,” the dreamlike counterweight. This one feels like lying on your bedroom floor at 2 AM, replaying every red flag you let slide and still feeling strangely at peace with it. The shimmering guitar layers create a slow-motion free fall. The vocal delivery floats instead of tearing through the mix. If “Gaslight” is the confrontation, “Sublime” is the recovery. Soft, heavy, and painfully self-aware. Together, these tracks do more than tease the debut album “Girl With Shank.” They promise an era. The band draws on 1990s alt-rock grit. Yes, there are fingerprints of Momma and Snail Mail and the faint ghost of Hole. They are not cosplaying nostalgia. They are building something feral and current, rooted in the emotional landscape of 2025. A landscape where everyone has become an unpaid therapist for people who do not even like them. Replay value is high. The songs linger like a scent you cannot wash out of your jacket. They make you want to confront someone. Or text them. Or block them. Possibly all three in the same afternoon.

Photo by Giovanni Calia We started BUZZMUSIC in Los Angeles, literally sweating through shows on Sunset, ducking into late-night donut runs in Highland Park, writing about indie bands from coffee shops we absolutely could not afford to be sitting in. So if we’re going to tell you where to go in this city, it’s not because Google Maps told us to. These are places we lived through, found ourselves in, got our hearts broken at, and occasionally healed from. These aren’t just outings; these are L.A. experiences that make you feel like the main character in your own life, not someone else’s B-roll. If you're done doing the same tourist loop as everyone who’s ever watched a TikTok travel guide, consider this your actual guide: from goth shopping and mariachi dinners to Malibu ocean energy and the donut that might convert you into a believer. 1. A Concert at the Hollywood Palladium Photo courtesy of The Palladium This isn’t just a venue, it’s a rite of passage. The Palladium has hosted everyone from punk legends to alt-heartbreakers that could soundtrack your quarter-life crisis in real time. The floor shakes, the lights feel too close, and suddenly you’re having a life epiphany next to someone in a band tee older than you. If you see a sold-out show here, congratulations, you’ve unlocked an L.A. core memory. 2. Donut Friend (The PB&J Donut Will Change You) Photo courtesy of Donut Friend Highland Park’s holy ground. Donut Friend is a plant-based donut shop that treats pastries like mixtapes, layered, nostalgic, and stupidly addictive. The Peanut Butter & Jelly donut? It’s a childhood sleepover and a first kiss and a sugar high collapsing into one perfect bite. If you leave with only one photo in your camera roll, let it be this donut. Yes, we said what we said. 3. Shopping @ Posers on Melrose   Photo courtesy of Posers on Melrose Welcome to your goth era. Posers is where fishnets, leather, platform boots, and eyeliner that says don’t talk to me unless you're in a band all find their true north. This is the kind of shop that awakens something in your soul you thought you had outgrown. Spoiler: you didn’t. Dip in. Become the 14-year-old you desperately wanted to be. 4. Griffith Observatory (The Classic, Obviously) Photo by Roberto Nickson Griffith is more than a skyline view; it’s where people go to remember that L.A., for all its chaos and choking ambition, is genuinely beautiful. Come at sunset if you want your Instagram story to do numbers without trying. Come at night if you want to feel small in a way that doesn’t hurt. 5. The Hollywood Sign (Not What You Think) Photo by Paul Deetman Let's be for real: the Hollywood Sign is kind of like watching the ball drop in Times Square, iconic, sure, but smaller and less life-changing than every movie told you it would be. Still worth seeing, but manage your expectations. Cute moment. Not a spiritual awakening. 6. DREAMS Los Angeles (Gone, But Still Holy) DREAMS LA was a metaphysical supply shop that somehow felt like walking into another lifetime. If an angel ever tapped you on the shoulder and whispered a secret, it probably smelled like this place. They closed their physical location after the pandemic and a brutal rent spike (very L.A. of L.A.), but the memory lives feral in our hearts. And yes, we will speak of it forever. 7. Santa Monica Pier Photo by adnorf Yes, it’s touristy. No, we’re not too cool for it. The lights, the ocean air, the Ferris wheel that somehow always feels safe even though it absolutely should not, it’s a vibe. Order something fried, walk the shore, let the Pacific slap you back into emotional alignment. 8. Paradise Cove Beach Café Photo by Paradise Cove Beach Cafe Paradise Cove Beach Cafe is where you go when you want to eat something incredible with your feet basically in the ocean. Malibu hits different. The energy is cinematic, warm, and just unhinged enough to make you believe your life is about to change. The food? Ridiculously good. The vibes? Better. Do these eight things and you’ll get why the rest of the world misunderstands L.A.: they think it’s a backdrop when it’s actually a character. A messy, brilliant, exhausting, addictive character you never totally get over. And honestly? We wouldn’t want it any other way.

Photo by Ekaterina Belinskaya Nepotism isn’t just a Hollywood buzzword or a TikTok talking point. It didn’t begin and end with “nepo babies” on magazine covers, being shocked that people noticed their parents own half the industry. It’s not only a top-40 problem, a pop-star pipeline, or a major-label engineering project. It’s alive and thriving in the so-called “independent” scene, too; we just pretend it’s not, because the branding tells us everyone here is grassroots, self-made, and living off oat-milk tips from gigs at coffee shops. Indie Doesn’t Automatically Mean “Earned” We love the mythology of the indie artist: broke, brilliant, building an audience one cracked vocal and one Bandcamp Friday at a time. But let’s be honest. Some “independent” artists are independently bankrolled by trust funds, industry parents, private school networks, and managers who only answered the email because of a last name. That doesn’t mean they aren’t talented. It means that we need to stop pretending everyone is starting the race from the same spot. If your dad’s an A&R, your mom runs distribution, and your cousin has a blog that magically premieres your first single, you’re not “building from scratch.” And again, that’s not a crime, it’s just context. Transparency shouldn’t be a threat if the art holds up. Connections Aren’t the Problem, The Silence Around Them Is The issue isn’t that some artists have connections. The issue is the weird industry gaslighting that happens when fans, journalists, or other artists point out the obvious. Suddenly, everyone gets defensive, and the narrative becomes: “Why can’t you just be happy for people who chase their dreams?” We are happy for them. But we’re also allowed to talk about a system where two equally talented artists release a song, and one gets playlisted, publicist support, and editorial coverage within 48 hours because their uncle played golf with somebody who mattered. That’s not jealousy, that’s data. Nepotism Can Kill Discovery When gatekeepers pretend there are no gatekeepers, independent music stops being a space for actual discovery and becomes a low-budget replica of the mainstream industry, just with better fonts and cooler merch. The result? We hear from the same circles of artists over and over. Journalists are pressured to cover whoever’s “bubbling” (translation: already connected). Fans miss entire universes of artists they would have loved if they weren't buried under the well-connected few. That hurts the culture, period. This isn’t about discrediting artists with privileged access. Some nepo-adjacent musicians are innovators. Some are making the kind of music that drags you through your own memories like a film reel. Talent can exist anywhere; privilege doesn’t cancel that out. But denying privilege doesn’t protect indie culture, it destroys it. What Accountability Looks Like Not cancellation. Not shame. Just honesty. If you came up through industry connections, say it. If you have safety nets others don’t, acknowledge it. If this were all easier for you because of your last name, own that fact. Because if indie music is going to remain a space for outsiders, misfits, genre-breakers, and people who don’t have anyone to open a door for them, then we need to protect that value by telling the truth about who gets in and how. It’s about lifting up the artists who don’t have industry parents, PR budgets disguised as “organic buzz,” or connections that come with blue checks and backstage laminates. It’s about making sure the indie scene doesn’t become the same closed loop, wearing thrifted jackets instead of designer ones. If we want real discovery, we can’t keep romanticizing a meritocracy that doesn’t exist.

There is a specific kind of nostalgia that doesn’t just hit; it lingers in your chest like a memory you swore you were over. That is what Sunset Blush captures on "Never Lose Your Colours", the latest release from the Australian artist and self-declared pioneer of Purpleslam. This track does not beg for attention with synthetic shine or chart-chasing hooks. It earns it through soul. Purpleslam is not just a genre. It is a mood, a temperature, a late-night reflection in the rearview mirror. Think shimmering melodies, painfully honest lyrics, and that low ache that shows up when music feels too real for a Tuesday afternoon. Never Lose Your Colours is steeped in gratitude, the messy kind. The kind you hold for the people who loved you, shaped you, or broke you in ways that still made you better. Maybe they are still around. Maybe they are a ghost you keep alive by telling stories no one asked for. Either way, Sunset Blush reminds you that the world fades, but a real connection does not wash out. The track hits like a soft punch to the heart because it makes you feel seen. It's warm and immersive, carrying emotional weight without turning into a downer. It feels like a hug you did not ask for but needed anyway. Never Lose Your Colours is not on Spotify. Sunset Blush plays by their own rules and we respect it. The song is out everywhere else, so do yourself a favor: lights low, headphones on, and let the Purpleslam do what it does best. Purpleslam is such a unique term. How would you describe it to someone hearing it for the first time, and what inspired you to create your own genre identity?  I want my music to be defined by its colour and feel, as well as how it makes the listener feel overall when they're listening to it.  Never Lose Your Colours feels deeply emotional yet comforting. Was there a specific moment or person that sparked the writing of this song? It's a song about being grateful for someone who has made a big difference in our lives. And being really thankful for the great things they have given us. I believe we all have at least one or two people who have positively impacted our lives. Many people can relate to that. You've been gigging across Australia for years. How has performing live shaped the kind of artist you've become today? It's definitely taught me a lot. And it has certainly made me a wiser writer and musician. And the audience benefits from that. Hopefully, it shows up in my music.  You mentioned wanting people to feel "less alone" through your music. When did music make you feel less alone in your own life? I want to write and release music that resonates with people, allowing them to hold onto something meaningful when they need it. And wrap a warm blanket around you when you're cold.  You've chosen not to release this track on Spotify. What was behind that decision, and do you think more indie artists should take control of how and where their music lives? Spotify rips off musicians, among many other offenses. However, as a fully independent musician, I have the freedom to decide where my music is distributed. Tidal, Apple Music, YouTube Music, and all the other streaming platforms. All are great, you can find all my music in there.

Rock fans, grab a napkin because things are about to get gloriously messy. Vinnie Paul , the late Pantera/Hellyeah/Damageplan legend who didn’t just dominate on drums but also at the grill, is being honored in the most delicious way possible. Z2 and The Rainbow Bar & Grill have teamed up to bring Vinnie’s actual recipes, yes, the same ones he cooked at his famous Sunday Funday gatherings, straight to the Rainbow’s menu for the entire holiday season. The historic Sunset Strip haunt was one of Vinnie’s favorite spots, so it’s only right that fans can now sit where he sat and devour the dishes he once served to friends, family, bandmates, and road crews. The lineup includes his Epic BBQ Sauced Cheese Burger, a Texas Style Cheese Steak Sammich that isn’t playing around, and the Lemon Pepper Wings that probably deserve their own spot in the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame. The Cookbook Vinnie Always Wanted to Release This culinary tribute comes alongside Z2’s release of Drumming Up an Appetite With Vinnie Paul, a cookbook Vinnie talked about for over a decade before his passing. This isn’t some label-manufactured nostalgia hustle. The recipes are authentically Vinnie, seasoned, messy, loud, and full of heart. In Vinnie’s own words from 2015, the goal was always simple: cooking should make people say, “G-damn, I love this sh*t!” Just like his music. The book divides recipes into cheekily titled chapters, main courses in “Reinventing The Meal,” sides in “Far Beyond Kitchen,” and desserts in “A Vulgar Display of Flour,” because, of course, Vinnie named them after Pantera lore. With photography by Justin Borucki, illustrations by Danny Hellman, Steve Chanks, and Rob Schwager, and an afterword from his best friend Brian “Bridog” Jones, the book captures the spirit of a man who never did anything halfway. Whether he was behind a drum kit or a grill, he fed people, body and soul. Deluxe Editions, Aprons, and Everything You Need To Cook Hostile The cookbook drops March 11, 2026, in hardcover for $29.99, with a Deluxe Edition available for preorder exclusively from Z2, complete with a butcher-paper dust jacket, a Vinnie Paul “Cooking Hostile” apron, a 25-piece “Hellyeah!!!” napkin set, and a Hellyeah University Cooking Diploma. Limited standalone aprons will also be available. Z2 President Josh Bernstein says publishing the book fulfills a promise: “We hope his recipes, stories, and passion fill hearts and stomachs for years to come.” For a man whose rhythms shook arenas and whose hospitality fed half the touring metal scene, this moment isn’t just a tribute, it’s a revival. Vinnie Paul’s legacy isn’t only in the music that changed metal forever, but in the meals that made even the loudest crowds feel like family. This season, fans get to taste that legacy. Turn up the Pantera, raise a glass, tear into those wings, and getcha’ pull.

Photo by ANTONI SHKRABA Music producers  now believe that working in the video game industry is one of the most creative and profitable things you can do. In the past, only 8-bit technology could make simple sounds like beeps and boops. Now it's a tough field where composers have to find a balance between their artistic vision, how hard it is to make, and how players feel about it. The music in modern interactive games should change depending on what the player does. This makes the experience feel more real than a regular linear composition can. The Technical Issue of Adaptive Music It's easy to follow the steps for making linear music. Composers make music that has clear beginnings, middles, and ends. They also mix them together so that they sound better when played on their own. There is different music for games. It needs to have loops that work perfectly, levels of intensity that change smoothly, and keep players interested even after they've played it a lot without driving them crazy. This technical issue changes the way the writing process works. Instead of thinking of whole songs, producers should think of layers and modules. There might be separate drum, bass, melody, and harmony stems for a combat theme. The game engine puts them all together in real time, depending on how dangerous the situation is. When the risk goes up, more layers turn on. When the tension goes down, things fall off, and there are no sudden changes that break the flow. Making music for games is very different from making albums with a DAW. Making transition points, testing how loops work, and making sure that musical parts work together in different ways takes a lot of time for producers. A part that sounds great on its own might not fit well with the rest of the game when the game engine puts things together in ways that aren't expected. This needs a lot of testing and changes, which don't happen very often in traditional music production. How Sound Design Affects the Mind There are many good reasons why music should be a part of group activities. It tells players important things about the game, keeps them interested, and changes how they feel to keep them interested. The beat and speed of a song have a direct effect on how excited players are. Fast, driving beats make your heart race and make you want to fight. People are more likely to pay attention and look around when the soundscapes are slower and more ambient. These are things that good composers do to get players to do what they want without telling them what to do. The music has a power that changes how things feel. It's also very important to choose the right timbre. It's even better to win if you can remember things when you listen to songs in a major key with clear instruments and bright sounds. Dark parts in a minor key with distorted or dissonant sounds make things more tense and make threats seem more real. These choices aren't random; they're based on how the brain connects sounds to feelings and uses them. Ways to Make Things That Are Unique to a Genre Action games need music that is fast-paced and keeps the fun going for a long time. Producers like beats that keep the music moving, aggressive synth work, and melodic parts that cut through sound effects without getting boring. Writing music that makes the action more exciting but isn't too hard is not easy. You have to play board games and strategy games in very different ways. You should have the music in your head, but not too much of it. Instead of ruining the mood, it should help you focus. Simple melodies, ambient sounds, and slow harmonic progressions are better than busy arrangements that make it harder to solve hard problems. Soundtracks for horror games make producers want to change things up. Composers often use sound design elements, strange instruments, and techniques from avant-garde and industrial music because traditional musical structures don't always make people feel scared for a long time. Sound and silence are equally important. Gaps in sound create tension that constant sound can't. Real-Time Gaming and Limits on Making Things Some games have musical problems that are different from others, so producers have to come up with new ideas. Soundtracks for games that need players to interact with each other in real time need to sound dynamic, but they shouldn't sound like they're playing the same thing over and over again or not being connected to what's going on. The music has to be able to change a lot in speed and intensity because of things that the developer can't control. These issues are particularly evident in interactive social casino experiences. Live dealer games  need music that matches the mood of the game and stays the same even when the sessions are very different in length and emotional arc. The music should fit both short and long rounds of play, and it should match the high-end, sophisticated look that these experiences give off. Soundscapes need to be full and interesting, but they shouldn't drown out the dealer's voice or get in the way of the social interaction that makes these games fun. Producers need to find a way to balance background noise with times of celebration. The Growth of Interactive Music Middleware To meet the specific audio needs of games, technology has come a long way to include specialized middleware like FMOD and Wwise. These tools let producers make complex adaptive music systems without having to be experts in programming. Composers  can set rules for how music should change when the game changes, test those rules in real time, and make changes right away. This middleware is a mix of a game engine and a regular DAW. Producers use music programs they are familiar with, such as Ableton or Logic, to make music assets. They then bring them into middleware, where they set up behaviors that change depending on what the user does. The middleware takes care of the difficult parts of figuring out when to start transitions, which layers to turn on, and how to move smoothly between musical states. If you want to work on game audio, you need to know how to use these tools. Instead of just stems and hoping that audio programmers can figure out how to use them, studios are starting to expect composers to give them fully working adaptive music systems. This change gives composers more creative freedom, but they need to learn new things about making music that they don't already know. Working Together: Producers and Developers When you make music, you don't usually have to work as closely with development teams as you do when you make game audio. In order to write music that goes well with other design elements, composers need to know how games work, how stories unfold, and what the technical limits are. This means going to design meetings, testing builds, and being open to change as the projects move forward. The music often has to be changed many times, just like other parts, because game development is a process that happens over and over. If designers change the speed or mechanics of a game, a track made for one mode might need to be changed. Producers who are used to finishing mixes and moving on find that making games requires them to stay involved for months or even years at a time. Being able to talk to people is just as important as being able to play music. When you make music for games, you have to explain your creative choices to people who don't play music, understand technical feedback from programmers, and fight for audio priorities when people talk about how to spend resources. The idea of the lonely artist doesn't make sense when you think about how games are made. New Chances in Interactive Audio As the gaming industry grows, there will be more and more work for music producers who are willing to learn new things. Musicians who play traditional instruments can't make the sounds that new platforms, mobile games, and virtual reality experiences need. In a market that is always looking for new talent, producers who can write adaptive music, understand how players think, and work well with others are in a good spot. As the demand for educational resources has grown, so has the number of them. You can take online classes to learn the basics of game audio , how to use middleware, and how to write music that changes with the game. People who work in game audio talk to each other on Discord servers, forums, and at conferences. Producers who want to do more than just make music have never had an easier time getting into the field. When you mix music production skills with interactive technology, you get a one-of-a-kind creative space where artistic vision and technical challenge come together. People who write music for games don't just write music; they also make soundscapes that change how people feel about things in ways that linear media can't. The people who make the sounds for video games will have a bigger and bigger impact on how millions of people enjoy interactive entertainment as the games change and reach more people.

Carson Beyer is done pretending everything’s fine. “ Nothing Left To Break ” is the sound of a man who has already hit the floor and realized getting back up doesn’t require some dramatic revelation, just the choice to move. While most country heartbreak tracks beg for another chance, Beyer takes the quieter, more unsettling road: What happens when there’s nothing left to feel, no pieces left to pick up, and the damage is already done? Written with Andrew Peebles and Clayton Shay, and produced by Beyer and Sol Littlefield, the single is stripped to the emotional studs. No overdone choruses, no stadium polish. Instead, Beyer leans into the numbness, the part of heartbreak nobody posts online. His voice is smooth but scraped up at the edges, like someone who’s already lived through the story he’s telling. The production keeps its hands off the wheel in the best way. Warm guitar lines, bare-bones percussion, and silence used like a weapon. Every space between lyrics hits just as hard as the hook. It’s not a song you sing along to on the first listen; it’s a song you feel in your chest before you realize you’re holding your breath. After “Bones” broke past four million Spotify streams, Beyer could’ve chased radio-friendly heartbreak. He didn’t. Instead, “Nothing Left To Break” leans into the raw, unpolished truth that heartache doesn’t always show up with fire and fury; sometimes it just leaves you empty, quiet, and weirdly free. You can hear the lineage of country legends, Tim McGraw, and George Strait, but there’s also something more introspective, closer to the kind of modern storytelling that refuses to fake strength just to look put together. Beyer doesn’t want the perfect ending; he wants the honest one. “Nothing Left To Break” is a slow-motion gut punch. It’s for anyone who’s cried all they can cry, talked it to death, and finally hit that eerie calm where the only thing left to do is breathe again. What moment or memory inspired “Nothing Left To Break”? "Nothing Left To Break" came from one of those moments where you’ve hit rock bottom and realize you don’t care about much anymore. Maybe it’s destructive, but maybe it’s a little freeing, like a weight’s been lifted off your shoulders. When there’s nothing left to hold onto or break, you finally free yourself up to feel something real again.  How did working with Andrew Peebles and Clayton Shay influence the final version? I love writing with both of these guys and feel like we balance one another out in a good way. Andrew’s the methodical, structured music school guy, and Clayton’s always making sure we get something people can connect with anywhere at any time. Having both of them in the room helps me rein it in, but also frees me up to get real and write from the gut, knowing we'll shape it as we go. What emotions were you hoping listeners would sit with after hearing it? I wanted people to sit in that space between heartbreak and healing. Where you go from not giving a damn after giving too much of one, it’s that initial sting when something ends. You’re a little bit numb and a whole lot of vulnerable once it’s all over and you stop covering up how you feel.   How did your time in Muscle Shoals shape your approach to songwriting? Muscle Shoals reminded me to let the melodies lead and trust that the honest lyric will follow. Like so many legends who’ve worked down there, they let the heart and the vocals lead the way. Being down there reminded me of that, and once I got out of my own way, the message and emotion naturally began to come through. When you look back at your journey from Kentucky to Nashville, how has your sound evolved? I think it’s evolved a lot and continues to every time I sit down to write or step into the studio to record. It feels like each song teaches me something new about who I’m becoming and what I want to say. That’s the beauty of it for me… getting to express what I’ve lived through in the past or what I’m feeling in that moment through words, melodies, and rhymes.

Brooklyn rapper SERIOUS VOICE doesn’t rap for fame; she raps for purpose. With her latest single “99 Problems,” she delivers a bold, faith-fueled reminder that real strength doesn’t come from flexing, it comes from surrender. Mixing classic hip-hop grit with gospel conviction, she’s proving you can walk with God and still spit bars sharp enough to cut through the noise. For Brigitte “SERIOUS VOICE” James, hip hop has always been therapy. It’s where she learned to turn chaos into clarity and pain into testimony. Raised in Brooklyn’s toughest corners, she grew up inspired by women like MC Lyte and Queen Latifah, but instead of following their exact footsteps, she carved her own lane in gospel rap. Her music has landed everywhere from Spike Lee’s She’s Gotta Have It to SXSW stages, and with her upcoming project Tessa’s Daughter, she’s channeling her grief over her mother’s passing into something powerful, personal, and healing. “99 Problems” captures that struggle perfectly, a spiritual tug-of-war between faith and frustration. Backed by her son JSWAGG’s haunting hook and produced by her husband MrC Live, the track calls out the distractions and temptations that cloud our purpose. But through every verse, SERIOUS VOICE reminds listeners that peace is possible when you stay rooted in truth. “Scripts don’t lie,” she declares, a mantra that hits harder than any punchline. The visuals drive it home. Directed by Bronx Emcee, the music video places her in a pristine white bathtub, a literal and spiritual cleansing. Every frame reflects purity and rebirth, with SERIOUS VOICE spitting bars wrapped in white towels and silver jewelry under a hanging mic. It’s minimalist, powerful, and unapologetically her, a woman of faith who’s seen hell and chose to heal instead. In a world drowning in noise, “99 Problems” stands out for what it isn’t: flashy, fake, or filtered. It’s honest. And in true SERIOUS VOICE fashion, it preaches without preaching: no matter how messy life gets, you can still “stay clean.”

Chicago’s Dave Luv has built his name on swagger, genre-blending, and sheer creative confidence, but “Let It Go” proves he’s not afraid to tear it all down and start fresh. Known for his sharp wordplay and smooth fusion of hip-hop, pop, and alt sounds, Luv flips the script this time, diving headfirst into indie rock territory, and somehow, it fits him perfectly. Gone are the chill bars and flex-heavy anthems, this one hits different. Gritty guitars and punchy drums set the stage for an emotional release that’s raw, loud, and liberating. “Let It Go” isn’t about wallowing in heartbreak; it’s about taking your power back when someone keeps trying to drag you down. The track’s hook feels like a breakup and a breakthrough rolled into one, equal parts catharsis and rebellion. Working with longtime visual collaborator Nicholas Jandora, Luv delivers a music video that nails the feeling of emotional burnout. The camera catches him detached and drained, with lifeless eyes, restless energy, and zero interest in pretending anymore. It’s the ugly part of moving on, captured with Gen Z precision and rock-star style. Dave Luv’s debut EP Mixed Emotions drops soon, and if “Let It Go” is the vibe we can expect, the kid’s clearly evolving past genres altogether. He’s not chasing a trend; he’s building his own lane. You’ve always blended genres, but “Let It Go” leans hard into indie rock. What pushed you to step outside hip-hop and scream your emotions instead of spitting them? I still love hip-hop, but I’ve loved rock since before I was ten. I grew up playing Guitar Hero and Rock Band, and a lot of that music stuck with me. It just felt like the right time to tap into that side because I haven’t been able to put my guitar down lately. I had so much fun making this record, and I definitely plan to keep going down that path. The track’s all about letting go of something that’s been draining you. Was there a real-life relationship or moment that sparked this song? Yeah, the record was definitely inspired by a real situation. I’m completely over it now, but putting that emotion into the song just felt right. When I was in the studio, I started by playing some chords on guitar. Then my friend John added a few more guitar parts, and Onassis finished the track out. After that, the writing process was super natural. From the jump, it didn’t sound like a love song, so I knew exactly where to take it. Visually, you and Nicholas Jandora have crazy chemistry. What’s your creative process like when building out a music video? Do you start with the vibe or the story? I usually just send Nick the song and trust him to do his thing. If adjustments are needed—which they rarely are—we’ll make them together. Nick’s so creative, and I’m always amazed by the concepts he comes up with. You call this your most personal project yet. What did you learn about yourself while making Mixed Emotions? Each song tells a story from my life, so in a way, every track holds a piece of me. Looking at the project as a whole, it really shows the range of emotions one person can go through. You’re joining Michael Minelli on tour this fall—how do you plan to translate that high-energy, indie-rock chaos from the studio to the stage? In true Dave Luv fashion. I always give the crowd 100% and make sure everyone’s part of the moment. I like to encourage crowd participation—it’s all about energy and connection. It’s going to be a good time.

Midwest-born and North Carolina–based artist Ava Rose is stepping fully into her truth with  Confessions, Dreams, & Unresolved Feelings , a deeply personal acoustic-pop project that feels like reading someone’s diary under candlelight. Known for her intimate storytelling and heartfelt vocal delivery, Ava weaves together a collection of tracks that don’t just reflect heartbreak or nostalgia but trace her evolution as a human being learning to release what no longer serves her. From the first note, it’s clear Ava has found her sonic lane. Pulling influence from Maggie Rogers, James Bay, and Dean Lewis, she brings that same blend of raw folk emotion and shimmering pop production, except this time she’s doing it entirely on her own terms. The fact that this album is fully self-produced makes it all the more impressive. Every piano chord and acoustic strum feels intentional, echoing her inner world as she reconciles past versions of herself. At its core,  Confessions, Dreams, & Unresolved Feelings  is about acceptance, the messy kind that doesn’t always feel good but ultimately frees you. Ava doesn’t shy away from her past; she sits with it, sings through it, and transforms it into something healing. Whether it’s the reflective calm of “The One That Got Away (Again)” or the emotional surrender of “Letting Go Isn’t Losing,” Ava’s voice carries both ache and resilience in equal measure. This sophomore release isn’t just a musical leap forward; it’s a personal awakening. As Ava puts it, “Learning who you are and growing from your past experiences is a never-ending process.” And that’s exactly what makes this record feel timeless. With the deluxe version set to arrive on December 5, 2025, fans can expect even more layers to unfold from this deeply introspective era. For those who crave music that feels real, not polished to perfection but honest enough to hurt a little, Ava Rose just delivered something special. You mentioned this project helped you make peace with unresolved feelings. What moment in your life inspired that breakthrough?  Great question! I don’t think there was any particular moment that led to this; I think I just finally had enough space from specific memories and histories, like enough time passed that I could reflect on it from more of an outer perspective. Between the making of my previous album and this one, I moved from the Midwest down to NC, and I found more space to tap into my artistry and myself as well. Moving out of where you spent all your years opens you up to new perspectives and new experiences, and while much of that is separate from what I reflected on with this project, change always leads to something new, and that’s what happened here. Sometimes you have to step away to be able to close the door. What was the biggest challenge in self-producing this album compared to your past releases?  The biggest challenge, honestly, was the mixing. The reason I had someone else do it the past two years was that I felt like I was standing in my own way with it. I hid my voice behind my arrangements because I wasn’t confident in it, and I let my own feelings about the individual elements direct the work rather than letting the work strengthen the song. So overcoming that was high on my list. It has become easier as I’ve gained more confidence in my voice and artistry, but it still presents challenges. Plus, when you’re working on your own art, it’s hard to hear it like it’s any other song, because it’s not. I knew every step that was taken in crafting the song, and it’s hard to pull away from it and see it just as it sits in front of you. But once I got to the finished versions, it was gratifying to know what I was listening to was entirely my own.  If each song represents a confession, dream, or feeling, which one was the hardest to share?  I honestly think “needle gun” was the hardest because that one is the heaviest in my eyes. I think that one carries the most weight, and showing that level of vulnerability is the most challenging. Other songs like “Michigan Avenue” or “mutual blunder” are contenders, they are about owning feelings I think I previously refused to acknowledge, but still share a different sentiment. “needle gun” is the song where the feeling carved into it matches the sentiment that went into making it, and I really value that.  How do you know when a song has emotionally “healed” what it was meant to?  I love this question. This can look different depending on the circumstances and the song. A song has done its job in healing for me, usually once it has reached its “full potential”. Sometimes that’s just being written, other times it’s being released and heard. It depends. I think every song serves a purpose and plays a role, and I think for the ones that go on to be released, that means that wound is healed. But I also think there’s something to be said about the songs that sit unfinished or unshared, and those are more of a temporary protection until we’re ready to face what closure or healing really looks like. I think the things I’ve written and released songs about were preceded by songs that were started in an attempt to heal, but were premature. But like with “needle gun”, putting that out was what closed that chapter. Before that, I think it was still in a stage of being processed and dealt with. Most songwriters I know, myself included, write for the sake of coping or dealing with the more unfortunate or unpleasant sides of life, which is why I think it’ll always be easier to write sad songs than ones that are more positive in nature. With that in mind, we write to cope and heal, and the closure comes when the song moves on from being ours to being yours.  What can fans expect from the deluxe version, which is set to drop in December?  The deluxe album will include three additional songs, one of which is a reimagined version of an old song of mine from 2020, when I wasn’t the vocalist for my own music. These three tracks were originally contenders for the album, but as more time passed and other songs emerged, I realized they were better suited for a second release. They’re outliers, but in the best way. I’m really excited to release it next month.