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Indiana-based singer-songwriter Isaiah Angel Hubbird invites listeners into a deeply personal corner of his world with his six-track EP, SUMMER DAZE. Rooted in acoustic songwriting while pulling from indie-pop, emo, and alternative influences, the project captures the kind of emotions that rarely arrive neatly packaged, moving through encouragement, reflection, confession, belonging, and connection. Opening with “SMILE, DON’T GIVE UP,” Hubbird immediately establishes the heart behind the project. His songwriting favors sincerity over spectacle, creating the feeling that these songs are being shared directly with the person who might need them most. “ENDLESS” continues that intimacy before “HOLY” adds another layer to the EP’s emotional center, allowing Hubbird’s vulnerable approach to remain the driving force. The aptly titled “THE CONFESSION” feels especially aligned with Hubbird’s strengths as a storyteller. There is an openness woven throughout SUMMER DAZE that reflects an artist comfortable allowing difficult feelings to exist without rushing toward an easy resolution. That quality carries into “HOME,” a title that naturally complements the EP’s recurring search for comfort, understanding, and somewhere emotionally safe to land. Hubbird closes the six-song project with “SUMMER DAZE,” featuring Rae Lynne, bringing another voice into an otherwise intensely personal collection. It gives the finale a sense of companionship that feels fitting after a project built around navigating life’s emotional weight. From his beginnings in Chicago’s metalcore scene to developing his identity as an acoustic singer-songwriter, Hubbird has taken an unconventional road toward the music he makes today. SUMMER DAZE feels like another meaningful stop along it, showcasing an artist less concerned with hiding behind production and more interested in making listeners feel understood. “SUMMER DAZE” moves through encouragement, confession, connection, and finding a sense of home. What period of your life were you documenting while writing these six songs, and when did you realize they belonged together as one project? SUMMER DAZE was written at the start of summer. The album progresses from struggling to survive and finding hope, into falling deeply in love, confessing feelings, finding someone who feels like home, and finally experiencing the beautiful innocence of a love that feels endless. The main takeaway of SUMMER DAZE is about the way love, faith, music, and connection can pull us out of darkness and make life feel worth holding onto. It is ultimately a story about finding someone who changes the way I see myself, my future, and the world around me. You started out playing metalcore before eventually finding your voice as an acoustic singer-songwriter. What parts of that heavier musical background still show up in the way you write and approach emotion today? When I played metalcore music, my role in the band was lead guitarist, and that experience taught me how to create melodies that support and carry emotion through the music. While the heavier sound of metalcore does not necessarily carry over into my singer-songwriter style, the emotional intensity absolutely does. That heavy emotion is still at the heart of what I create and continues to drive my music. “SMILE, DON’T GIVE UP” immediately introduces the EP with a message of perseverance. Why was that the right song to open the project, and what did you want listeners to carry with them into the tracks that follow? “SMILE, DON’T GIVE UP” felt like the right song to open the project because I wanted to start with a message of hope. The song comes from a place of understanding what it feels like to struggle and reminding someone that things can get better, even when they do not feel like they will. I wanted listeners to carry that sense of hope with them as they moved through the rest of the project because the songs that follow explore love, connection, faith, and the emotions that make life worth holding onto. Truly, I wanted the first song to remind people to keep going so they could experience everything that comes after it. “SUMMER DAZE” is the only collaboration on the EP, featuring Rae Lynne. What did she bring to the song that you felt your voice alone couldn’t, and how did that collaboration come together? In the song “SUMMER DAZE,” Rae Lynne brought the other side of the story to life and added a completely different perspective to the song. I was looking for a female vocalist who could carry the second half of the song and bring another layer of emotion to the story. I found Rae through a post I made in a local Facebook group, and after receiving tons of responses, her voice immediately stood out to me. There was something about the tone and emotion in her voice that complemented mine so naturally, and I felt that she was the perfect person to help bring “SUMMER DAZE” to life. Between releasing your own music and building Boundless Rose Records, you’re experiencing the independent music world from both sides. How has running a label changed the way you think about your own career, and what are you hoping to build for other independent artists? Running Boundless Rose Records has given me a completely different perspective on my own career because I am not only thinking about my music, but also about what it takes to help another artist bring their vision to life. It has taught me that being an independent artist is not just about creating your own music, but also about building a community where musicians can support and inspire each other. With Boundless Rose Records, I want to create a place where independent artists feel heard, valued, and encouraged to pursue their music without feeling like they have to do everything alone. My goal is to keep living out my motto, “Bringing people together, one musician at a time,” and help give artists the tools, support, and recording services they need to turn the music in their heads into something real.

Inglewood artist, producer, and songwriter Son Kuma turns physics into something deeply human on Keep That Energy, an ambitious Hip-Hop and R&B album built around one central question: where is our energy actually worth spending? Kuma brings an unusual perspective to that question. Alongside his career in music, he earned a degree in Mathematical Physics from Stanford University, teaches high-school-level physics, and gives biannual lectures on songwriting and composition at Stanford's music department. On Keep That Energy, those worlds collide through music, physics, manga-inspired visuals, and a larger story about self-discovery. The album's sequencing is especially clever. Titles including “By Force,” “Long Distance,” “Are We Working Enough?,” “Overtime,” “Power,” “mc²,” “Heavyweight,” and “Potential” are arranged around actual physics equations. Force multiplied by distance becomes work, work divided by time becomes power, and weight multiplied by height becomes potential energy. But the concept never feels like an intellectual gimmick. The equations provide structure for something far more personal. Across the record, Kuma examines heartbreak, ambition, capitalism, overwork, romantic connection, and the uncomfortable realization that relentless productivity doesn't necessarily produce a meaningful life. “Are We Working Enough? Pt. II” turns the question back on itself, while “Overtime” finds Kuma confronting the trap of believing enough work and money will eventually purchase freedom. “Power” begins breaking that cycle as love becomes a force capable of competing with greed and endless ambition. That journey eventually reaches “It Matters,” where self-love, love for others, and genuine connection replace material success as the album's measure of fulfillment. Even the project's manga-inspired artwork extends the narrative, gradually revealing two versions of Kuma before showing that the figure he's been pursuing is ultimately his own reflection. The final imagery reunites those identities, representing the acceptance required to become his most powerful self. Keep That Energy is dense, but intentionally so. Son Kuma isn't simply using physics references to make a clever concept album. He's applying the language of energy, force, work, and potential to questions most people eventually face: What deserves our time? What drains us? And what are we working so hard to reach? His answer is surprisingly simple. Energy is finite. Love, purpose, and the people who make life meaningful might be where it's best spent. Physics isn't simply referenced on Keep That Energy; it determines the album's structure. When did you realize scientific equations could become a framework for telling such a personal story? The idea for this album structure came about quite randomly, but the more I fleshed it out, the more sense it made. For me, song titles usually come after song lyrics. When I get to the mic, I just freestyle whatever comes to mind. Afterward, I listen back, type out the lyrics, and choose a song title based on the lyric that feels most representative of the song. The first song I made for this project was "Are We Working Enough? Pt. I." In reality the song only references physics once, when I say, "I can use my degree to get me a spot at Raytheon / it's no problem ethics and morals get left a door / just pay me dawg..." -- I once considered working for Raytheon, a DOD contractor that frequently hires physics majors, but my opposition to the wars the US is involved in ultimately led me down a different path: becoming a physics teacher. At its core, the song is about work; what we do, why we do it, and what it costs us. But for me, physical quantities have always felt somewhat analogous to their literal forms and everyday meanings. In physics, work is the energy transferred to or from a system when a force is applied along a distance. In life, work can ultimately be the system draining all of us of our energy. That connection pushed me to imagine what the tracklist for an "Energy/Physics" inspired album would look like. I started jotting down potential song titles that incorporated physical quantities: "Inertia," "By Force," "Long Distance," "Are We ' Overtime ', " "Power," etc... As I composed and sequenced the songs, a larger theme of work obstructing freedom and life started to emerge. What began as a clever structural idea gradually became the framework for telling my story. A major tension throughout the album is the belief that working harder will eventually create freedom, followed by the realization that work itself can become the thing keeping you from living. How has your own relationship with ambition changed while making this record? I'm still tryna figure this one out. Work never really stops; the only control we have is choosing where our energy goes. During the day, I use my energy as a teacher to inspire the young people to reach the best versions of themselves. During the night, I give my energy to my creative outlets. While I still don't quite feel free, I feel at peace with how I use my energy. My ambition hasn't disappeared; it's become more intentional. The visual storyline eventually reveals that the alternate version of yourself you've been pursuing is actually your own reflection. What did that realization represent about the person you were becoming outside of the music? It represented a journey toward self-acceptance. If I couldn't see my true self, how could anyone else? I carry several identities and titles, some of which don't seem too interrelated on the outside. The only common factor across them is me. Rather than continuing to move as if who I am inside the music and who I am outside of it were separate, I wanted to reconnect them. All of us bridge multiple passions and carry different life experiences. Those different parts of ourselves aren't contradictions; they work together and shape our thoughts and beliefs about the world. You move between being an artist, producer, physics teacher, and Stanford graduate. Have you ever felt pressure to choose one identity, and does Keep That Energy represent you rejecting that idea? For sure. Maintaining my multiple identities and incorporating all of them into my art does feel a bit rebellious. What I find most interesting is that the only people who still pressure me to choose a single identity are people who knew me before I fully understood myself and before they could see the real me. We are constantly reformulating and reconfiguring who we are. Some people met me early on in the journey and still view me as the version of myself they first encountered. They may not recognize who I am now or where I'm headed. I think this experience applies to a lot of us. New people tend to accept me as everything I currently am without questioning how those identities coexist. In academic spaces, my art is generally viewed positively. In artistic spaces, the fact that I studied physics tends to be a conversation starter. Keep That Energy is absolutely a rejection that I need to keep those worlds separate. By the end of the album, love becomes your answer to the question of where our limited energy should go. What happened in your life that made you believe love, rather than success or achievement, was the most meaningful use of that energy? At my lowest points, there was no amount of success or achievement that could lift me up. But love just always had this magical power to pull me out of anything. Love is one of those words that resists a clear-cut definition, but for me, the verb form of it is to project energy with compassion and selflessness. From that perspective, love languages are the frequencies through which different people prefer to receive that energy. When you give your energy through love in a form someone can truly receive, you deepen your bonds with people that can return that energy in the ways you need. Success can validate you temporarily, but love sustains you.

Going viral as an independent artist can feel like throwing content at an algorithm and hoping something sticks. You post the song, make the TikTok, upload the Reel, try the trend, and wait. Meanwhile, a developing artist you've barely heard of suddenly seems to be everywhere. That visibility might not be as accidental as it looks. According to major-label insiders, one strategy being used to help break developing artists involves creating entire social media ecosystems around them, including networks of fan-style accounts designed to keep the artist circulating online. Some artists can reportedly have 15 to 20 or more of these accounts operating at once, often managed by interns or junior members of a larger team. Instead of relying on one official artist account to reach an audience, the strategy creates dozens of potential entry points for discovery. For independent artists, the interesting part isn't pretending to have a fanbase you don't have. It's understanding the strategy behind the machine and figuring out which parts you can realistically use yourself. Think Like Your Own Paparazzi One of the biggest shifts is surprisingly simple: stop only filming when you're actively promoting something. Artists and their teams are documenting everyday life. Coffee runs, gas stations, shopping trips, studio sessions, airports, dinners, backstage moments, outfits, conversations, and everything in between can become content. Think about the type of footage that naturally surrounds an established celebrity. Someone catches them leaving a restaurant. A fan films them walking through an airport. A random interaction gets uploaded. An outfit becomes a talking point. For a developing artist, those moments can be intentionally documented before there's actually paparazzi waiting outside. The lesson for independent artists is to capture your life like people are already watching. Build More Than One Door Into Your World The next part of the strategy is distribution. Instead of every piece of content appearing on the artist's official account, footage can be spread across multiple fan-style pages, each with a different identity. One might focus on edits, another on candid moments, another on performances, while another leans into personality, fashion, humor, or lifestyle. That means someone could discover the same artist through completely different types of content without ever seeing a post from the artist's main page. Independent artists obviously don't need to launch 20 accounts tomorrow. Even a few secondary content pages can give you more places to experiment with hooks, formats, edits, song snippets, and ideas without turning your main profile into an endless promotional feed. Think of it less as creating more accounts and more as building your own small media network around your career. One Piece of Content Shouldn't Mean One Post This is where the strategy becomes much more realistic. Labels aren't necessarily filming 30 completely different pieces of content every day. They're building banks of footage and finding multiple ways to use them. A single clip can become a short edit, a meme, a lifestyle post, a lyric video, a reaction clip, a photo carousel, a different cut using another section of the song, or a completely new post with a different opening hook. Across a network of accounts, that can reportedly translate into 10 to 30 posts per day. For an independent artist, the number isn't really the point. The mindset is. Stop treating every piece of footage as disposable after you've posted it once. Recut it. Reframe it. Change the hook. Try another song section. Put it somewhere else. A post that dies on one account isn't automatically bad content. Build Interest in the Artist Before Pushing the Song This might be the most useful part of the entire strategy. Not every post needs to announce that your new single is out now. In fact, constantly asking people to stream something can make your social presence feel like advertising instead of entertainment. Post the outfit. Post the weird interaction at the convenience store. Post the studio fail. Post the late-night food run. Post the opinion people are going to argue with you about. Let your music live underneath those moments. The goal is to make someone interested enough in you that discovering your music feels like the natural next step. Entertainment first. Promotion second. Consistency Is Where the Strategy Gets Serious According to the label insiders behind this strategy, artists aren't expected to try it for two weeks and magically break through. The timeline is closer to six months of consistent execution. That's six months of posting, testing, recutting, experimenting, watching what people respond to, and doing more of what actually connects. Not every post is supposed to go viral. Most probably won't. The point is to dramatically increase the number of opportunities you have to reach someone while building familiarity around your name, face, personality, and music. Eventually, the reaction you're trying to create isn't necessarily, “This video is incredible.” It's: “Why do I keep seeing this artist everywhere?” And that distinction matters. Do With This Information What You Will You don't need 20 fan accounts. You don't need a team of interns. You definitely don't need to post 30 times tomorrow. But if this is the kind of infrastructure major labels are reportedly putting behind developing artists, independent artists should at least understand what they're competing against. What can look like overnight organic virality from the outside may actually be months of coordinated content, distribution, repetition, and testing behind the scenes. Take what works for you and scale it to your own resources. Because while you may not have the major-label budget, understanding the strategy costs nothing.

Alternative rock artist Leo Sawikin steps into a compelling new chapter with “Burning Love,” the first single from his forthcoming self-titled album, expected in 2027. Produced by Phil Ek, the track offers an intriguing first look at a record that appears ready to push Sawikin beyond familiar alternative rock territory and into something more atmospheric, unconventional, and deeply introspective. “Burning Love” began almost by accident. While experimenting with an alternate guitar tuning and attempting to remember an entirely different song, Sawikin stumbled onto a progression carrying a distinctly Celtic quality. Rather than smoothing out those unexpected edges, he followed them, gradually developing the idea into something that feels almost medieval in character. The result is a song that exists somewhere between contemporary alternative rock and a much older musical world, creating an atmosphere that feels strangely timeless. That quality extends into the songwriting. Sawikin invited drummer and longtime friend Max Yassky to contribute lyrics that could sound as though they had been lifted from an archaic text, complementing the unusual character already established by the instrumentation. Centered around the image of an eternal dreamer beneath an emerging night sky, the lyrics contemplate existence, attachment, and the overwhelming scale of the world around us. Despite its title, “Burning Love” is less interested in telling another conventional love story than it is in examining love as a larger human experience. There is something quietly unsettling and beautiful about the idea at its center: recognizing how impossibly small we are while still caring so intensely about the people, places, and moments that make up our individual lives. The accompanying video, directed by Jack Payne and filmed in Cairo, New York, expands that sense of mystery without attempting to explain it away. It gives the track additional visual weight while leaving enough room for its stranger ideas to breathe. As the first glimpse of Sawikin’s forthcoming album, “Burning Love” makes an effective introduction precisely because it refuses to reveal everything at once. With Phil Ek behind the record and Sawikin leaning into a sound that feels older, stranger, and more existential, this next chapter already feels like one worth following.

Eric Solitude has built his music around the tension between vulnerability and resilience, creating songs for listeners searching for somewhere to place emotions that do not always translate easily into words. With his indie-pop release “Suzy Honey,” the emerging artist turns his attention outward, transforming a period of personal anxiety into an affectionate portrait of the women whose confidence helped him recognize the strength he was struggling to find within himself. “Suzy Honey” is rooted in admiration. While writing the track, Solitude found himself feeling consumed by his own fears and drawn toward the courage, boldness, and strength he saw in the women around him. Rather than centering the song entirely on himself, he created the fictional “Suzy” as a representation of those women and the impact they had on his life. That shift in perspective also pushed Solitude to rethink his songwriting. Inspired in part by Prefab Sprout’s “Bonny,” he challenged himself to tell a story without constantly relying on “I,” eventually landing on the line, “Suzy, called me, on her break again,” and allowing the narrative to unfold naturally from there. There is something refreshing about a song built around simply recognizing strength in other people. “Suzy Honey” does not need to turn admiration into something overly complicated. Instead, Solitude lets it become a source of warmth, escapism, and connection, giving listeners room to see themselves as either the person looking up to someone or the person who unknowingly gave somebody else the courage to keep moving. That sense of emotional escape is becoming central to Solitude’s larger artistic identity. He describes his music as a place for people looking to temporarily step outside the weight of their everyday lives, particularly those still searching for their voice or learning how to amplify it. More importantly, he wants to challenge expectations surrounding what an independent artist can look and sound like. With “Suzy Honey,” Eric Solitude makes that mission feel personal. It is a feel-good record born from a difficult headspace, proving that sometimes the people who inspire us most can unknowingly become part of the music we carry forward.

The music world has lost one of its most important figures. Dolly Parton died peacefully in Nashville on August 25 at the age of 80, closing a career that stretched across more than six decades and changed country music, songwriting, entertainment, and the business of being an artist. There will be plenty written about the songs, the rhinestones and the unmistakable voice, but Parton's legacy deserves to include something equally important: she understood the value of ownership long before artist independence became an industry-wide conversation. Parton entered a music business where women were routinely expected to fit into roles created for them by men. Her breakthrough alongside Porter Wagoner gave her national exposure, but Parton eventually made the difficult decision to leave the partnership and build a career on her own terms. She wrote "I Will Always Love You" as a farewell to Wagoner, turning one of the biggest transitions of her career into one of her most enduring compositions. Years later, that song would become one of the clearest examples of why ownership matters. When Elvis Presley wanted to record "I Will Always Love You," Parton famously walked away from the opportunity after his team required a share of the publishing rights. For a developing songwriter, saying no to Elvis Presley could have looked completely irrational. Instead, protecting the song proved to be one of the smartest decisions of her career. When Whitney Houston's version became a global phenomenon decades later, Parton still controlled the work she had created. That mindset extended far beyond one song. Parton established her own publishing company, protected her catalog, and gradually expanded her career beyond the traditional boundaries of a recording artist. She became an actor, producer, entrepreneur and business owner, building an ecosystem around her name rather than allowing the industry to determine what that name was worth. Dollywood became one of the most visible examples of that ambition, while simultaneously creating jobs and economic opportunities in the region where she grew up. Her philosophy was remarkably modern. In discussing ownership, Parton once explained that artists should aim to control as much of themselves, their work, and their brand as possible, while understanding that independence is something often built gradually rather than granted immediately. Dolly Parton: An Independent Icon For independent artists today, that lesson feels bigger than ever. Independence does not necessarily mean doing everything alone. It means understanding what you own, knowing what your work is worth, and recognizing when an opportunity requires giving away too much of it. Parton worked with labels, publishers, producers, networks, and major corporations throughout her career, but she never stopped thinking like someone responsible for protecting the long-term value of what she created. That may be one of the most powerful parts of her legacy. Dolly Parton proved that an artist could be commercially enormous without surrendering the identity that made people care in the first place. She could write the song, own the song, build the business, and still remain unmistakably herself. For generations of independent artists trying to build something sustainable today, there are few better blueprints. The music industry lost a legend, but it also lost one of its smartest artists, fiercest advocates for creative ownership, and greatest examples of what can happen when an artist learns to bet on themselves.

Los Angeles-based indie alt-pop artist mx puja singh enters a new creative chapter with “new moon,” an atmospheric release centered on beginnings, possibility, and the quiet confidence of starting again. Known professionally as puja, the queer non-binary singer, songwriter, producer, and multi-instrumentalist draws from an expansive musical palette spanning pop, house, techno, alternative, trip-hop, Indian classical, hyperpop, and folk. On “new moon,” those influences settle into an immersive soundscape that feels both intimate and exploratory. Inspired by the beginning of the lunar cycle, “new moon” extends its concept beyond the sky. A new breath, relationship, project, or personal chapter can carry the same sense of fresh energy. Rather than presenting change as something loud or disruptive, puja explores the calm assurance and freedom that can accompany an open path forward. A soothing electric bass anchors the track as layered vocals gradually build its nocturnal atmosphere. Cello moves through the arrangement with an almost wind-like presence before drums introduce greater momentum. Processed vocal details offer subtle flashes of puja’s electronic roots, adding another dimension to the organic instrumentation. “I hope people take away a sense of freedom in new beginnings,” puja shares. “A moment to pause and reflect. The feeling of possibilities.” “new moon” also signals a broader sonic evolution for mx puja singh, who is currently exploring a new sound across an upcoming body of work. For now, “new moon” offers an invitation to sit with the unknown and consider everything that might come next. “new moon” frames new beginnings as something calm and freeing rather than overwhelming. What experiences shaped the way you approached that idea? I have always been intrigued by spirituality and the idea that everything is interconnected. I believe we live in this world to play, learn, and grow, and everything is always changing. So I’ve found that the more II can embrace change, the freer I feel within the flow of life. The track brings together electric bass, cello, layered vocals, drums, and processed electronic elements. How did you build the arrangement while still preserving its spacious, nighttime atmosphere? Most of my work in the past has been very synth-heavy with a lot of electronic drums. I really wanted to explore a more acoustic/organic sound this time. i recently started playing bass, so I wrote the song with just the bass, which was very different for me, and I think it kind of got me writing differently. From there, I really wanted to keep it somewhat minimal, and these were the elements that felt most appropriate to create the chill, fresh vibe I was going for. Your influences stretch from electronic music and alt-pop to Indian classical, folk, and trip-hop. How are those different musical worlds informing the new sound you’re currently exploring? I think in the past I was exploring a more specific sound with each project I worked on but this one really feels like everything is starting to come together more cohesively. It’s like all my past influences are now showing themselves in different ways, and my own sound keeps emerging more and more. Nature, healing, spirituality, death, and interconnectedness appear throughout your work. What keeps pulling you toward those themes as a songwriter? These are the themes I’m constantly thinking about and exploring in my own life, so they naturally come out as I’m writing. When I’m working on a new project, I often listen to my older music to kind of hear it with my current ears. I was just doing this last night and felt really proud of how each song took me back to a moment and reminded me so clearly what my perspective was at that time and how I was processing things in my life. It’s so special for me to have these little time capsules, and I love when people in my community share stories of particular songs or projects of mine that they relate so closely to a certain part of their own life. It’s a reminder that we’re all going through stuff and can relate to others if we’re open enough. You’ve described “new moon” as part of a new sonic direction. What does this song reveal about the music and creative world you’re building next? As I mentioned earlier, my own sound is emerging more and more, and my music has even more depth now. I’m bringing in more elements and inspirations from all of the different influences that continue to emerge in my life. Also, I’m really exploring how to bring together organic/acoustic instruments with electronic instruments and effects in a way that creates even more depth in my music. I’m using guitars more than I have in any other project and trying to explore more ways to use effects on acoustic instruments, vocals, etc. I also always want to take people on a journey, so there are a lot of different vibes that come out throughout this project. I want this world to feel immersive in a way that gives people freedom to dream, explore, and discover things about themselves that they didn’t know before!

Photo by Anna Azarov Brooklyn electronic project Death By Piano is turning ancient mythology into something distinctly modern on new single “Fire & Snow,” a dark, empowering collaboration with Domenica Fossati of Underground System. Led by singer, songwriter, and keyboardist KALEN, Death By Piano has built its sound around electronic beats, analog instrumentation, strings, synths, and KALEN’s expansive vocals, moving comfortably between darkwave and shoegaze influences. A fixture within New York’s underground music community, the project has brought its atmospheric live show to venues including Rough Trade NYC, Elsewhere, NuBlu, and Sultan Room. Following the Greek mythology themes explored on “Pandora” from the VOW EP, “Fire & Snow” once again revisits familiar stories through a feminist lens. The concept began with a conversation between KALEN and visual artist Lena Rudnick about imagining Greek goddesses joining forces to finally confront Zeus over his history of abuses. KALEN takes on the role of Metis, goddess of wisdom, Zeus’ first wife, and mother of Athena, while Fossati embodies Hera. Rather than retelling mythology from the perspective audiences have heard for centuries, the song gives its women the floor. Produced by Eric Zeiler, “Fire & Snow” carries that reclamation into Death By Piano’s shadowy electronic world, with Fossati bringing another dimension to the track through both her vocal performance and flute. KALEN describes working with Fossati as a dream, praising the artist for bringing her full personality and interpretation to the material. Ultimately, “Fire & Snow” isn’t interested in treating mythology like untouchable history. Death By Piano pulls it apart, changes the point of view, and asks what these stories might sound like if the women at their center finally got to tell them. “Fire & Snow” marks Death By Piano’s first release of the year, with a remix from Aaron Nevezie of The Bunker and a collaboration with No Surrender expected to follow. Fire & Snow reimagines Greek mythology through a feminist lens, with Metis and Hera finally getting their side of the story heard. What made these two goddesses the right voices for this particular song? In my musings with Lena Rudnick, we were discussing the goddesses who had the most notable or deepest relationships with Zeus. Hera is very commonly known as the queen of the gods, alongside Zeus as the king (yes, they were siblings before they were married — yuck). However, Metis was Zeus's first wife, advisor, and mother to Athena. The concept started with the idea of Greek goddesses essentially forming their own Me Too movement against Zeus. How did you balance the humor and playfulness of that premise with the much heavier themes underneath it? It's hard to say exactly. Conceptually, I feel like that balance is important, but I think it happened more organically than intentionally. At the time that Lena and I were having this conversation, I was opening up some older beats that Eric had sent me, and suddenly the two ideas converged and found a home. And while there are elements of cancel culture that I find to be absurd, Zeus was such a dramatic bastard that it felt like delectable justice to tear him down. Domenica Fossati takes on the role of Hera and also brings flute to the track. What did she add to "Fire & Snow" that changed or expanded your original vision for the song? I'm very used to musicians interpreting my songs and bringing themselves to them. Even when I have a clear idea of how I want something to sound, it's still so important to me that the personality of the player and their interpretation are also authentically present. But this was one of the first times — at least in a while — that I had another artist interpreting a lyrical script. The verses are so wordy and tight that Domenica really had to adhere to a certain flow for things to fit. Even within that, though, it was really cool to see the way she would stretch or move some things so that the timing reflected her own intonation and emotion. She's such a fire sprite goddess herself that she helped energize and lift up the song, amplifying both the seriousness and the humor. Not to mention those flute parts — fire. "Fire & Snow" continues the mythological thread you explored with "Pandora." What keeps pulling Death By Piano back to these ancient stories, and what do they allow you to say about women and power today? Good question. So much of Death By Piano's music has always dealt with darkness, light, drama, and alchemy. Greek myth is such a literary blueprint — a narrative structure through which to explore the same themes, but in a more modern realm. I love that the single art also plays off the study of the archetype in tarot. Roland LeFox, an amazing graphic designer and guitar player, really nailed it when he elevated a sketch that artist and musician Brett Wintle had done of Domenica and me. Well, history and human patterns repeat themselves ad nauseam [I'm assuming this is what "and nausea" was meant to be — let me know if not], and there's something comforting in connecting to the universality and timelessness of so many struggles. With a "Fire & Snow" remix from Aaron Nevezie and another collaboration with No Surrender on the way, what does this single reveal about the direction Death By Piano is heading next? Well, the backbone — bread and butter, I wish — of DBP is still downtempo darkness, but I'm definitely beginning to explore and play with the way that dancier beats can electrify and even accentuate the bruised noir tones. This song, certainly Aaron's remix, and a couple of tracks off the core EP (which will be released next year), lean into more dancier experiences. No Surrender and my singles will still live squarely in the world of sad, sparkly lofi downtempo goodness.

EP1 finds Josephine Olivia making something entirely on her own. Four songs she wrote, performed, and produced without a band around her, which after more than fifteen years of working inside bands is the whole point. The record, out via Brooklyn label Trash Casual, moves between goth, dark electronic textures, and flashes of indie atmosphere. Olivia has been a fixture in the Baltimore and DC scenes for over fifteen years, and she plays in VOSH, whose goth, post-punk, and metal has put the band on stages with The Psychedelic Furs, Nitzer Ebb, and Bauhaus's Peter Murphy. She has toured across North America, Europe, and the UK, and appeared in videos for Cigarettes After Sex last year. The EP points the other way, inward. She describes it as "a deeper introduction into the world Josephine Olivia is creating." The opener sets a sinister choir against a harsh, gnawing saw, introducing a tension that sticks around through the rest of the record. "Reject," already released as a single, offers familiar footing before "Climbing Out" goes hazier. Its ambient, measured melody reaches toward hope but never completely shakes its loneliness. "Forest" closes on layered harmonies and repetition, like standing alone under a canopy at dusk, right where solitude starts to feel a little like paranoia. Stillness is what Olivia is after. She hopes EP1 will have a centering, grounding effect — something that can bring the listener back to stillness in a world of constant change and movement. Working alone also changed the way Olivia reached the songs. With VOSH and her other band work, there are people to bounce ideas off of, and that exchange opens up a different kind of creative instinct. This time, there was nobody else to run things past. "For me, this music has been a lesson of healing," she says. Writing and producing the material herself gave Olivia room to dig into emotions she had ignored while learning an entirely new side of making records. She sees the songs as more vulnerable than her band work because there is no collaborative layer between the first impulse and what comes out the other end. That independence is part of what gives EP1 its intimacy. Olivia has described the project as a way to connect and articulate something without speaking, but also as an act of showing up without filtering herself through anyone else's vision. Follow Josephine Olivia.

Underlined Passages have a chorus for the moment we're all stuck in: "bright eyes, you're so fucked up." That's "Bright Eyes," the first song the Baltimore duo is sharing from their new album, A Quiet Condition, out September 10 on Mint 400 Records. It's not a single in the traditional sense — it's the closing track, the last word on a record about watching your life get quietly filed out of the future while everyone's staring at their phones. Michael Nestor and Roger Stewart chose to lead with the ending, and the line doesn't resolve anything. It just says the thing out loud that the rest of the record circles around: something's wrong with all of us, and the algorithm isn't going to fix it. A Quiet Condition is Nestor and Stewart's follow-up to 2025's The Accelerationists, and it trades that record's confrontational energy for something smaller and stranger. Nestor's guitars are still layered and technicolor, but pulled inward. His vocals sit buried in noise. Stewart's drums hold everything together without ever pushing. The reference points are the ones you'd expect — Nada Surf, American Football, The Promise Ring — but there's a heavier undertow this time, something closer to Deftones, Thursday, and Editors, minus the bombast. The album is about reaching middle age and realizing the thing you wanted your whole life might not be coming, and nobody tells you when that becomes true. It just gets harder to ignore. Song titles fall apart as the record goes — "Futr" is missing a vowel, several tracks carry "mx" markings like unfinished notes — and "Bright Eyes" is where that unraveling lands hardest, aimed straight at the plasticine, AI-flooded scroll we're all living inside. Underlined Passages have been making records like this since 2015. A Quiet Condition is gearing up to be their most fully realized album to date. A Quiet Condition is out September 10 on Mint 400 Records. Tracklist: Afterimage Soft Reception Paper Lanterns Out Past Distance Futr (Bx Mx) Lament (96 Mx) Pernod (Ze Mx) Bright Eyes Follow the band here.