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In 2025, the award-winning indie pop artist doubled down on the part of his artistry that people love most: the warmth, the sincerity, and the pure joy that radiate from everything he touches. With decades spent shaping his signature blend of electronic pop, retro sparkle, and heartfelt storytelling, Craymo has never been afraid of reinvention. But this year felt different. It felt bigger, clearer, and more celebratory, almost like he entered a new creative era with wide-open arms. From shimmering dance-floor anthems to a nostalgia-soaked holiday release, Craymo used 2025 to remind everyone why independent artists matter: they create from instinct, not boardrooms, and they chase impact, not predictability. While Love Together and Tear Me Apart continued his streak of uplifting, dance-focused pop, it was “ Last Christmas ” that defined his 2025. Instead of offering another straightforward cover, Craymo transformed the Wham! classic into a glittering, club-ready celebration, something only a former nightclub DJ/VJ with decades of dance culture in his bones could pull off. His reimagining is both a love letter to the original and a nod to the DJ version of himself who once spun the track on 12” vinyl in Southern California. It’s energetic, nostalgic, and designed with one purpose: to make people feel good. And clearly, the world agreed. In just weeks, Last Christmas climbed the Mediabase Top 40 Holiday Charts and found its way onto radio playlists across the globe. The release marks one of Craymo’s most successful moments in recent years, a full-circle return to the music that shaped him. Outside the studio, Craymo stacked his year with wins: multiple international awards, expansion into the sync world, and ongoing work on Be Myself, the semi-autobiographical film script about growing up gay in upstate New York, a story he’s been waiting his whole life to tell. 2025 proved what long-time fans already know: Craymo isn’t just an indie veteran, he’s an artist who continues to evolve without losing the heart behind his music. His message remains consistent: joy matters, community matters, and music still has the power to make the world feel a little softer, even for three and a half minutes at a time. “Last Christmas” became a defining moment of your year. What was the emotional trigger that convinced you it was finally the right time to reinterpret such a sacred classic?  Since this song was released in 1984, it has been my all-time favorite Christmas song! I was working as a club DJ/VJ in Southern California at the time, and I fell in love with it! I have been trying to write an original Christmas song for years, but I have never been satisfied with what I came up with. Then last year, in 2024, I read that it was the 40th anniversary of the release of the Wham! version. I said to myself, “That’s the holiday song I want to do!” I wanted to record it with a good dance groove and dedicate it to the inner DJ in all of us! You’ve spent decades shaping your sound across multiple eras of pop. What about 2025 felt creatively different for you, and how did that shift show up in the music you made this year?  The 80s were the ultimate decade in music for me. It has influenced all my music since then in some fashion. Flying to Los Angeles in January of last year to record was very surreal as the Palisades and Eaton fires were happening at the time. It created a different kind of vibe in my music and lyrics, and I feel a positive shift in my vocals and songwriting with the help of my long-time friend, co-writer, and Producer Brandon Jarrett. We created this cool new modern vibe mixed with the heart and soul of the 80s. “Last Christmas” has already found global radio support and chart traction. What’s been the most surprising reaction you’ve received about your version so far?  The amazing reviews I have received!  It is very satisfying to receive accolades from music critics, blogs, and complete strangers. “An iridescent EDM pop rush.” “One of the best covers I have heard.” Wow, it is so nice to be embraced so positively for your craft and for doing something that you love to do!  That tells me that I was on the right path to release this version. It’s a feel-good song even though it is a song about heartbreak. A lot of my fans, friends, and family have said, “We have been waiting for you to do a cover of this!” Makes me smile for sure!   Between dance-pop releases, award wins, sync deals, and a movie script in progress, 2025 seemed like a year of expansion. How did you keep yourself grounded while juggling so many creative lanes at once?  I am also an actor, performing in indie films and advertising commercials! I am a very creative person and have always juggled my creativity and passions in life, while still working for a living. I would love to earn my living from my various creative talents however, in the meantime I continue to focus on channeling my creative energy into different projects. A lot of meditation and spending time in nature helps keep me grounded. As someone who’s lived through multiple generations of the music industry, how do you stay motivated and inspired in a landscape dominated by algorithms and oversaturation?   Honestly, I don’t get consumed by those things. I focus on the passion and the love of performing and creating something new. You’ve always championed themes of love, unity, and self-acceptance. How do those values guide the choices you make, especially as you enter a new year of opportunities, collaborations, and visibility? Those ideals have led my life in a positive direction and helped keep me focused. It is easy to get distracted in the music and entertainment industry. They will always guide me to bigger and better things. You have to love yourself before you can expect anyone else to love you. You’re working on a semi-autobiographical film, Be Myself. How much of your musical identity is shaped by the kid you were in upstate New York, and what part of his story are you most excited for the world to finally see?  I am excited for the world to see my joy and laughter!  It’s a funny and heartfelt tale of my journey.  One of my earliest and favorite memories was singing along with the Beatles into my mom’s hairbrush on my parents' bed when I was 3 years old! Music has always had a major impact on my life. It has brought me so much joy and inspiration and has helped me through some of the most difficult times in my life. Music is the best therapy for your soul, and a really good song can make you smile when you need it the most!

A Light Within has reemerged from a long stretch of silence with “DyingClock,” a sprawling nine-minute single that pulls the Kansas City group back into the atmospheric prog spotlight they have quietly occupied for more than a decade. The track is the band’s first release since 2024 and immediately signals a renewed creative spark built on tension, mood, and their signature cinematic pacing. Recorded throughout 2025, “DyingClock” features a standout guest appearance from Kelli Scott of Failure. His drumming adds sharp movement to a song that drifts between brooding ambience and heavier, post-rock-influenced peaks. Bass duties were handled by Madelyn Robertson, rounding out a performance that feels immersive and deliberate. The new single taps into the same emotional depth that has endeared the band to fans of Porcupine Tree, Katatonia, Tool, and other groups known for long-form storytelling. The release also marks a turning point. A Light Within weathered a turbulent period following their 2018 record “Epilogue,” the closing chapter of a conceptual trilogy rooted in transcribed diary entries. The band regrouped in 2022 with a new formation, Josh Bennett moving from guitar to bass while the rest of the lineup shifted into a streamlined four-piece. Since then, they have shared a run of singles, including “Meteoric Fires,” “Count With Your Eyes,” “Terraform,” and “Identity.” During their quietest years, core members Kyle and Jeff Irvine revisited their 2013 debut EP “Preface,” rebuilding it with modern production and newly imagined parts. The updated version, released as “re: preface,” served as a bridge between eras and as a nod to longtime supporters while the band shaped new material. With “DyingClock,” A Light Within steps fully into their next phase. The new single feels patient yet powerful, a reminder that the band thrives when they take the long way around. More music is already in motion, and the song acts as the opening move in what looks like a revitalized period for the Kansas City outfit.

Electronic artist Benton isn’t here to trauma-dump for streams or deliver some perfectly manicured “aesthetic” sadness. Animals , his new EP, is messy in the most human way, a kaleidoscope of breakdowns, breakthroughs, synth pulses, and the weird little moments in between where you’re laughing through the pain because… what else are you supposed to do? If his last single “On My Own” cracked the door open, Animals kicks it off the hinges. This is Benton at his most exposed yet most free, building worlds out of shimmering synths, retro-pop grit, and the kind of melodic honesty that hits you right in the unspoken thoughts. Benton blends the spirit of The War on Drugs, Talking Heads, and Her’s but filters it through a distinctly modern lens, emotionally aware, self-deprecating, and fully willing to dance through the disaster. Across the EP, Benton unpacks the heavy stuff: love, identity, loneliness, emotional freeze-response, all the ways adulthood feels like one long “what the hell am I doing?” montage.   But here’s the twist: he refuses to let the darkness win. Instead, Animals embraces the reality that sometimes healing looks like staring out a window, questioning your life choices… and sometimes it’s dancing your face off at 2 a.m. to forget them. The synths shimmer, the beats hit hard, and the melodies feel like a warm hand on your shoulder saying, “Same, dude. Same.” There’s sarcasm, sincerity, and a ton of self-awareness. It’s indie pop for people who know life is complicated but don’t want to drown in the seriousness of it all. This EP doesn’t come from nowhere. Benton wrote much of Animals while navigating the emotional weight of his father’s cancer battle, a reality that shakes your sense of time, priority, and meaning. Instead of spiraling inward, Benton channels it outward, turning fear and confusion into something cathartic, communal, and weirdly hopeful. These songs feel like internal conversations set to retro synths, moments where you’re trying to keep your heart open even when your mind is in full-blown storm mode. “It’s about how so much happens in life, good, bad, whatever, and everyone is just trying their best to get through,” Benton shares. “And searching for real connection through the haze and the storm in our own minds.” You feel that. Every track walks the line between vulnerability and release. At its core, Animals is a reminder that you’re allowed to laugh while falling apart. You’re allowed to dance while grieving. You’re allowed to be a flawed, confused, overstimulated human being in a world that keeps pretending everyone else has it figured out. “I want people to be able to laugh and dance and know they aren’t alone,” Benton says. “You don’t have to be some perfect version of yourself. Enjoy the journey we are on.” That’s the energy this EP radiates: messy joy. Imperfect healing. Real connection. Aside from being a skilled producer (running Moon-Runner Studios in Charlotte), a film and TV set designer, and a documentary scorer, Benton has the kind of artistic perspective that doesn’t chase trends; he builds from truth. If you’ve ever felt lost, lonely, hopeful, exhausted, or hilariously confused by life… this EP is for you. Animals is indie-electronic therapy disguised as a dance record, proof that sometimes the best way to process the hard stuff is to sit with your feelings and shake it off. Benton turned his chaos into art. All you have to do is hit play. “Animals” balances heavy emotional themes with bright, dance-driven production. How do you personally decide when to sit in the pain versus flipping it into something you can move your body to? I’m not sure if it's so either for me. I think sitting in the emotion sometimes looks like a somber melody, but also looks like rhythmic synths and drums. Everything I do starts with rhythm. I think because my musical journey started with drums. It’s just how I process, with movement.  Your dad’s cancer battle clearly shaped the emotional core of this EP. What was the hardest truth you had to face while writing these songs, and did any track force you to confront something you’d been avoiding? I have a really good relationship with my dad, like a real friendship. He and my mom have always been such supporters of me. I think the hardest truth was realizing this is something he’s going to deal with the rest of his life and coming to terms, a lot earlier than I thought I would, of his mortality, I guess. He’s in a really good place now. Beating it as much as can happen. The track “Storm” is really about the mental battle of it all. I think I had really been avoiding exactly how it was affecting me. It absolutely made me confront that and helped me process, like Oh, this is having a huge impact on me, and I need to work through it. There’s a self-aware sarcasm running through your lyrics, even in the most vulnerable moments. Where does that blend of humor and hurt come from in your writing process? I think the sarcasm just comes from the way I view the world and the way I think. I feel like laughter is truly healing and that we should not take ourselves so seriously. It’s probably some sort of coping mechanism. I like my writing to be conversational, so it’s just my tone, I guess. And I like it.  You’ve worked across music, film, production, and set design. How do those different creative lanes influence the worldbuilding and visual identity behind Animals? I think in everything I’m creating, I’m building a world with it. If I’m writing a song, I’m picturing a scene with it. Is the character in the song driving, in an office, or walking through the streets like Blade Runner? Does the emotion of the song feel a certain way? It’s how my brain works. I guess I have an active imagination. With this project, it's just a combination of everything I love. Synths, drums, guitars, 80’s Sci-fi. Haha, and luckily, we can pull it all together to make it look pretty cool. My wife is a photographer/ production designer, so I always have someone to bounce stuff around with, too. You said you want listeners to know they’re “not alone” and don’t need to be perfect. What’s a moment from your own life recently where you had to take that advice yourself? I think I sometimes have these secret rules to live by. Maybe we all do. Like you just have to meet these milestones or need to be in a certain place in life by a certain age, or you’re not doing the same things that people your age are doing. I’m 34 now, why am I still doing music? But then I’m like, life is not perfect. Who even set these rules? Everyone is in control of their own destiny, and I can do whatever I want. And a million people have these thoughts every day.  I’d say that’s a battle every few weeks. Haha, then I'll go write a song that expresses what I’m feeling and play it at a show. Also, there’s like no way on planet earth that I could ever not be doing music, so I don’t even know why I would think that. Haha

Aron Lipman  is not easing his way into pop. He is walking straight into the spotlight, his nerves, hope, and humanity fully exposed. “ Insecure ” marks his debut solo single, and it already tells you exactly who he is. A young artist who would rather tell the truth than pretend he has everything figured out. The industry has enough polished robots. Aron arrives as a real person. “Insecure” sits on a glossy, high-energy pop production courtesy of Party Hills Music in Hollywood. It feels current without chasing trends. Aron’s vocals carry the emotional load, and that is what makes this song hit harder than expected. He leans into a Bieber-inspired softness, but there is a rawness in how he phrases specific lines. You can hear the moment he stops performing and starts admitting something personal. That shift is what gives the track its teeth. The song centers on a simple but heavy reality. Life will break you at times, and you need someone to sit with you through it. Aron wrote it from a place of emotional exhaustion, and the vulnerability shows in every note. He is not begging for a savior. He is asking for presence. Support. Connection. Something real. His quote says it all. Life is impossible alone. Everyone needs a shoulder. Lyrically, the writing is clean and direct. No metaphors to hide behind. No sugar coating the hard parts. He is not trying to romanticize pain. He is just calling it what it is. That kind of honesty is rare in a debut and even rarer in a world where everyone online pretends they are thriving. “Insecure” cuts right through the performance culture and lands on something human. Replay value is strong because the song hits a different nerve each time. One listen makes you feel understood. Another listen makes you realize how often you pretend you are fine. Aron is speaking to people who are tired of acting strong for the timeline. People who want permission to say they are not okay. As a debut, “Insecure” is a bold introduction. Aron Lipman is not chasing a persona. He is choosing truth. And truth always finds its audience. What part of recording “Insecure” pushed you into territory that felt emotionally unsafe but necessary for the song to work? Singing about insecurities is being vulnerable to the world. It puts you in the spotlight, which means people will be judging you. That’s scary  You left school to pursue music full-time. How did that leap of faith shape the honesty you brought into this track? I left school to do what I wanted deep down, which was to sing. Being real with yourself is what matters when it comes to singing. The production feels polished, but your vocal delivery feels intentionally raw. What choices did you make in the booth to keep that balance real? Starting the song off with a softer, sadder tone gave the necessary sadness to the song, but more than that, Insecure is about reaching forward, understanding, learning from struggles, and opening up to someone else the next time. I chose raw delivery bc it feels the most real. Your writing often touches on faith and the search for meaning. How does that inner journey influence the way you talk about fear and needing support? Im still figuring out a lot in life, but that inner search—trying to understand why I’m here and what really matters—shapes the way I write. So when I talk about fear or needing support, it comes from a place of knowing I can’t do everything alone.  This is your debut solo single, which means listeners are meeting you for the first time. What do you hope they understand about you after hearing “Insecure”? I hope listeners understand im about down-to-earth lyrics that everyone needs to hear. Life’s a journey, and im putting some of my journey into music in the hope of helping others on their paths.

Let’s be real. Most emotional rock songs either overdo the theatrics or hide behind distortion, like vulnerability is embarrassing.  Jay Luke  doesn’t do either. “ Ghosts ” lands in that rare, uncomfortable space where the emotion is so real it almost feels intrusive to listen to. And that’s exactly what makes it powerful. From the first note, the track feels like stepping into a dim room filled with things you haven’t dealt with yet. The guitars set the temperature instantly, warm but heavy, while the rhythm section builds this slow, churning tension that sits in your chest. Michael “Duds” McDonald’s lead guitar work cuts like a voice inside the mind you try to ignore, and Joe Loftus on bass, keys, and piano adds a cold edge that makes the whole track feel haunted in the most literal sense. Then Jay comes in. His vocal delivery doesn’t try to pretty anything up. He sounds like a man who has lived with these ghosts long enough to know them by name. There’s grit, there’s ache, and there’s this emotional clarity that only shows up when someone finally stops running from what hurts. The vulnerability hits even harder once you know the backstory. This isn’t a metaphor for the sake of art. This is a son watching his mother drift between memory and confusion. This is trauma repurposed into tribute. And despite the weight, “Ghosts” isn’t exhausting. It’s gripping. Replayable. A reminder that rock still has space for songs that tell the truth without hiding behind ego or nostalgia. The production feels intentionally imperfect, adding to the rawness instead of smoothing it over. You hear every crack as it matters. The cultural moment fits too. In a world obsessed with distractions, here comes Jay Luke asking you to sit with the things you bury. Anyone dealing with grief, unresolved memories, or that weird, disorienting space between love and loss will feel this track hit straight in the ribcage. With chart placements across ISSA Radio, Valley FM, and Radio Indie Alliance, “Ghosts” is proof that authentic storytelling still cuts through the noise. Jay didn’t chase a trend. He let truth lead. And it shows. “Ghosts” carries decades of emotional weight. What moment convinced you it was finally the right time to release it? The interesting thing about being an artist or musician is that the things you create tend to change in meaning as you grow older. To me, that has always been a sign of great art, when it grows with you. I have many songs and lyrics that were never released, and when I revisit them years later, I often find something new or a way to update them to make them feel fresh again. “Ghosts” was exactly that. I originally wrote the lyrics shortly after seeing  The Sixth Sense , and then they just lay dormant in a notebook for years. Fast-forward a few decades, and I found myself sitting with my mother as she began experiencing frightening hallucinations. In that moment, the lyrics I had written back then suddenly shifted into something deeply personal. It hit me instantly that the song needed to be reworked and brought back to life. That was when I knew the time had finally come to release it. The production feels intentionally raw. What imperfections did you choose to leave in because they added truth instead of polish? I can’t say anything in the production was intentionally “left in”, it all happened naturally throughout the process. But if certain moments feel a little rough, emotional, or unpolished, I think that’s because I was drawing from a place of real pain and reflection. I was reliving some of the struggle I watched my mother go through, and that emotion naturally came through in the vocal delivery and performance. Sometimes the truth shows itself more honestly than anything you could plan. Watching your mother navigate that liminal space between clarity and confusion is incredibly heavy. How did you protect your mental state while turning that experience into art? I think no matter how much we try to prolong our mortality, at some point, we have to face the reality that everyone’s time eventually comes. What we choose to do with the time we do have is what life is really all about. Accepting that helped me protect my mental state and approach everything with a clearer mindset.I wanted to illustrate what people go through when they’re seeing or experiencing things nobody else can see. It’s incredibly frightening for them, and witnessing that changes you. Turning it into art helped me process it in a healthier way. Your music has always leaned into emotional honesty. What part of your storytelling shifted the most between the first version of “Ghosts” and the version you released today? Interestingly, the lyrics from the initial draft changed very little. What changed the most was the perspective behind them. Originally, the song was written about an idea, something foreign to most people and me. But as the decades passed, the song almost became prophetic, because it ended up describing a very real and personal situation I was living through. So while the literal lyrical content didn’t change drastically, the connection I had to the song and the emotional weight behind it shifted in a huge way. It became much more personal, and that changed how I delivered it. You ’ve shared stages with major rock icons. How have those experiences shaped the way you approach vulnerability and intensity in your own songwriting? Absolutely, they had a huge impact. I learned from a lot of people I looked up to: how to act, how not to act, what to share, and what to keep private. Having heroes teaches you a lot, but it also teaches you that at some point, people may let you down. That’s when you realize you have to find your own path. In today’s world, the truest form of rebellion is being yourself. Not chasing after the crowd, not trying to fit into whatever is popular at the moment, but carving your own path and seeing where it takes you. That mindset has shaped how I write and how honest I try to be in my music.

Some bands fit neatly into genres. T he Uprights are not one of those bands, and that’s exactly why they stand out. Formed inside Area 51 during the global shutdown, the group has always felt less like a band and more like an art movement, one built on experimentation, cinematic imagination, and a refusal to obey conventional musical borders. Their sound is a living collage: electronica, jazz, classical phrasing, spoken-word musings, environmental textures, surrealist visuals, and a commitment to beauty in all its forms of serene, haunting, or downright unsettling. The Uprights have never tried to blend in. Their mission has always been to blur the line between music and art, to create work that feels like an exhibition rather than a playlist. And Curse Of The Yellow Butterfly , the 2025 release chosen for BUZZMUSIC’s Best Independent Releases of 2025, is the clearest expression of that ethos to date. The album isn’t just listened to, it’s entered. It surrounds you. It creates a world where sound becomes a sensory environment, where guitars ripple like strange weather, where vocals hover like memories, and where every arrangement carries an element of wonder, mystery, or danger. As Complex writer Brandon Constantine put it, their compositions don’t follow genre rules; they follow beauty. Whether that beauty is fragile, eerie, or terrifying is beside the point; what matters is the emotional awe it leaves behind. 2025 also marked a banner year for the collective. Their work caught the attention of publications like Pitchfork, Rolling Stone, Medium, Pitch Perfect, Vents Magazine, and more, all drawn to the band’s ability to create something that feels genuinely new in an industry that often leans toward imitation. Guitarist Rod earned a songwriting award from the Nashville Music Foundation; bassist John Thomas debuted a global photography exhibition; the group played stripped-back sets in Germany, Curacao, and Australia; and their music was featured in The Seven In One Way, a documentary exploring the Basque region of Spain. What makes The Uprights so compelling is that their world expands beyond sound. Their visuals, concepts, and performances all stem from the same creative DNA, a willingness to get weird, dig deep, experiment loudly, and refuse to be defined by the expectations of others. And as they prepare to release their next album, Death Of The White Dog, and negotiate with labels and streaming platforms for wider distribution, the band is stepping into their next evolution with the same energy that has carried them since day one: curiosity, intuition, and a commitment to art that challenges and mesmerizes. At their core, The Uprights are a reminder of something essential: great art isn’t safe, predictable, or polished into submission. Great art is weird. It’s bold. It’s boundaryless. And if Curse Of The Yellow Butterfly proves anything, it’s that the world is more than ready for bands that dare to be all three. Curse Of The Yellow Butterfly is the release you chose for our Best Independent Artists of 2025. What was the original spark or visual that set the tone for this album’s surreal, immersive world? When The Uprights first came together, we were planning to be a jazz group. However, we soon realized that our shared interests in both art and experimental music could take us to some far more interesting and imaginative places. So I think that is what set the tone for Curse Of The Yellow Butterfly: a sense of artistic freedom and a willingness to push against the perceived boundaries of what a band can or should be. Your sound blends electronica, jazz, classical, spoken word, field recordings, and cinematic elements, and somehow still feels cohesive. How do you approach composition when your “rules” are basically that there are no rules, except beauty? The world itself is a chaotic blend of random and often conflicting elements. Every day we experience love and hate. Beauty and ugliness. Heart-warming kindness and savage cruelty. We see obscene wealth and wretched poverty. In the same way that all of those things coexist on our pale blue dot, we try to mold these disparate components into unified musical statements. I’m reminded of the words of Kurt Vonnegut, ‘Nice, nice, very nice. So many people in the same device.’ The Uprights were born inside Area 51 during the pandemic, a story that already sounds like its own myth. How did isolation, secrecy, and experimentation shape the band’s identity in those early stages? For us, it is very important that we are artists, as opposed to rock stars. Therefore, we have taken great pains to remain anonymous. That way we don’t have to worry about fashion trends or hair styles, publicity tours or whether or not we are being seen in the hip clubs. We want the music and the art to be the focus, not our private escapades and shenanigans. Ironically, however, our desire for privacy seems to have fueled even more interest in the group.  Brandon Constantine noted that you blur the line between music and art. What does “art” mean to The Uprights, and when do you know a piece has crossed from just sound into something more immersive and experiential? We seem to be at our best when a song sort of bleeds over into real life. You can be listening to a nice groove, and suddenly, there is the sound of gunfire or a dog barking. This happens to people all the time, so we decided to incorporate it into our work. We also like to take quotes from movies or books, which help to express what it is that the song is trying to say, and put them into the piece. Even the natural sounds of wind, rain or traffic. What’s that noise? Is it on the recording? Is it coming from outside? We like that uncertainty. We want the listener to feel as if they are slowly slipping into another world. Somehow familiar and yet, alien. 2025 saw huge moments for the group: praise from Rolling Stone and Pitchfork, Rod’s songwriting award, John Thomas’s photography exhibit, international acoustic shows, and your music being featured in a Basque documentary. What accomplishment from this year felt the most validating for your evolution as a collective? The wonderful reviews that we have received from various music publications in the last year - including from BUZZMUSIC, by the way - have been incredibly gratifying. When we started down this path, we were just trying to amuse and entertain each other. There was no expectation that anyone outside the band would have any interest in, let alone praise for, this music. It turns out that maybe we weren’t crazy after all. There might still be people out there who are looking for something other than pre-packaged pop. Death Of The White Dog is coming this December. What emotional or conceptual territory does this next album explore, and how does it expand or subvert what you started with Curse Of The Yellow Butterfly? We definitely want to expand our horizons beyond what we did on the last album. We are incorporating some new musical styles and sounds. We are creating some longer pieces than we did on Curse Of The Yellow Butterfly and using more AI tools for both the music and the accompanying videos. In short, we just plan to keep exploring and pushing ourselves into new areas. As the saying goes, all of the good stuff is on the other side of your fear. Your advice for artists is to stay weird as hell and define art on their own terms. What’s the weirdest creative risk you’ve taken as a band that unexpectedly paid off? The decision to write, record, and release our last album was an incredibly risky move in and of itself. It was far and away the strangest music that any of us had ever worked on before. We had already finished a perfectly respectable jazz album (which I’m sure that we will release one day) that probably would have gotten some attention and praise from critics, but then we suddenly just walked away from it and said, ‘Let’s try something different…’ It was a ridiculous choice to make at the time, but it has paid off so far. Let your freak flag fly!

Specyal T isn’t just an artist, she’s an architect of sound, a multi-instrumentalist, a storyteller, and a creative force who refuses to stay in one lane. The Toronto-born Caribbean-Canadian musician has spent her career breaking boxes, blending genres, and shaping a signature style that exists somewhere between Lauryn Hill’s honest soul and Missy Elliott’s bold, experimental edge. But what sets her apart isn’t just the sound, it’s the intention. Every track, every hook, every sonic left turn is rooted in craft, discipline, and purpose. 2025 marked a defining chapter for her. While fans were already riding the wave of her long-running hit “Double Take,” Specyal T introduced a new side of her artistry through Chasing Sunday, dropping the punchy “ Ben’s Girlfriend” and the raw, relatable “ Automatic .” But it was her sixth studio EP, After The Applause , that revealed the most personal evolution. Genre-bending, emotionally layered, and technically daring, the project showcases an artist stretching beyond comfort zones, experimenting with new textures, and pushing her own creative limits. It’s the release she chose for BUZZMUSIC’s Best Independent Artists of 2025, not only because it’s sonically strong, but because it represents real growth, real vulnerability, and real triumph. For Specyal T, this EP isn’t just another checkpoint in her discography. It’s a body of work built during a year of learning, healing, and reconnecting, with new instruments, new techniques, and a new chapter of performance after joining a worship band for the first time since losing her daughter. That step alone carried weight. It opened doors, sparked new connections, and reignited a sense of spiritual grounding in her relationship with music. Outside the studio, she spent the year expanding her skill set, performing more, and continuing her role as a mentor to emerging artists. She’s the kind of creative who leads by example, a reminder that independent artistry isn’t just about releasing music; it’s about the hustle behind the scenes, the self-management, the emotional labor, and the constant drive to evolve without losing authenticity. As she steps into 2026, Specyal T is aiming higher: more live shows, bold collaborations, and new releases that push her versatility even further. But at the heart of her journey remains the same message she gives other artists: keep grinding, stay grounded, and trust the beauty inside the struggle. That’s where the real connection lives. After The Applause is your chosen release for 2025, a project you’ve described as both creatively challenging and personally meaningful. What headspace were you in while making this EP, and how did pushing into new genres and techniques change you as an artist? I was in a different level of creative flow when creating ATA. Pushing into new genres and techniques continues to help me evolve in my artistry. Your career spans R&B, Hip-Hop, Pop, Electro-Pop, and even Pop Rock through your Chasing Sunday project. What inspires you to constantly genre-bend, and how do you decide which sonic world each story belongs in? As an artist I’m known to push creative boundaries, I don’t like to be put in a box. The vibe, the mood, and the direction come from the story, and then the music evolves everything from there. You’ve talked about wanting listeners to understand the layers and workload independent artists manage. What’s something behind the scenes that people don’t realize takes real emotional or creative stamina? I feel the true level of work as a whole, most times done independently, at the level of a major artist, without the various teams and resources they typically have. It takes real emotional and creative stamina to stay in the grind when the respect may not always be there.  You learned new instruments and skills this year, and you also returned to performing piano/synth with a worship band, your first since your daughter’s passing. How has reconnecting with music in that space shifted your relationship with performing and healing? Yes, this year I’ve also been busy with building up more musical skills in performance and technique. It’s been a real healing journey, and I’ve found in this new, familiar environment a new sense of peace, which has helped me overall through my continued bereavement journey.  Between radio rotation, TV placements, and the long life of singles like “Double Take,” you’ve built a career with serious longevity. How do you balance staying consistent with also reinventing and evolving across each new era? I just continue to stay true to my vibe. It has served me well throughout the years.  You’ve become a mentor and role model to other musicians. What’s one piece of hard-earned wisdom you find yourself sharing most often with artists coming up behind you? One piece of wisdom I find myself sharing with newer artists is to stay focused on your goals, and don’t let outside noise affect your creative process. Looking ahead to more performances, new collaborations, and new releases in 2026, what creative risks or new chapters are you most excited to explore in the next year? I’m excited for everything creatively that’s coming next. 2026, let’s get it!

Some songs are written. Others just spill out because they have to. “ (Haunted By) The Ghost ” is firmly in the second category, and that urgency is exactly what makes Giselle’ s latest release so heavy in the best way. The Los Angeles–based alt-rock artist didn’t set out to craft a perfectly polished track. This song was born during a moment of PTSD flashbacks, captured instinctively on her phone with nothing but a keyboard and her voice. No rewrites. No overthinking. Just raw emotion moving faster than fear. Even after additional layers were added in the studio, that original feeling remains untouched. Sonically, “(Haunted By) The Ghost” lives in a tense, atmospheric space. Moody keys anchor the track while subtle production choices keep the focus where it belongs: on the emotion. Giselle’s vocal delivery is restrained but aching, allowing vulnerability to lead instead of theatrics. She lets moments breathe, which makes every line land harder. Lyrically, the song explores what it means to be haunted by someone who caused real harm. Not a metaphorical ghost, but a presence that lingers long after the damage is done. The kind that shows up uninvited, refuses to fade, and reopens wounds that were never fully allowed to heal. While the story is deeply personal, Giselle intentionally leaves the meaning open, giving listeners space to attach their own experiences to the song. Her background as a multi-instrumentalist and seasoned live performer comes through in the track’s quiet confidence. Every element feels intentional, never overcrowded. Years of gigging from Buffalo to Los Angeles, and playing rooms like Hotel Café and Whisky a Go Go, show up in her ability to trust simplicity. At its core, “(Haunted By) The Ghost” isn’t about closure. It’s about acknowledgment. Giselle isn’t trying to offer answers or wrap trauma up neatly. She’s offering understanding. A place to sit with the weight. A release for anyone carrying something they haven’t been able to name. Giselle says she hopes the song helps people feel less alone and gives them permission to cry if they need to. That intention is felt in every second of the track. “(Haunted By) The Ghost” is honest, haunting, and quietly powerful, proof that sometimes the most impactful songs are the ones that don’t ask for attention; they just tell the truth.

Rock & Roll Hall of Fame icon Steve Perry  is leaning fully into the season, and he’s doing it with heart, history, and purpose. The former Journey frontman has debuted an animated visualizer for “This Christmas,” a standout track from his latest holiday release The Season 3, while simultaneously launching a massive charity holiday auction packed with once-in-a-lifetime memorabilia from his personal archive. Following a successful summer auction that raised over $200,000 for Sweet Relief Musicians Fund, Perry has once again partnered with Darkives Collectibles, the archival memorabilia platform from Dark Horse Records, to curate a collection of more than 90 never-before-available items. This time, all proceeds benefit Gilead House, a Marin County nonprofit supporting unhoused single mothers and their children, many of whom are survivors of domestic violence. The auction, live now through December 16, includes deeply personal and historic pieces: handwritten lyrics to Journey classics “Separate Ways” and “Only The Young,” Perry’s Diamond RIAA Award for Escape, signed vinyl test pressings, studio-used instruments, vintage tour merch, promotional jackets, and rare solo and Journey releases pulled directly from Perry’s own collection. Every item has been authenticated and preserved in partnership with Audio Media Grading (AMG). To mark the holiday moment, Perry has also released a new animated visualizer for “This Christmas,” designed by Patrick Atkins, adding a warm, visual layer to The Season 3, the latest chapter in Perry’s acclaimed holiday album series. “I’m excited to once again open up my personal archives for this special Holiday auction,” Perry shared in a statement. “Every item comes directly from my personal collection. These pieces have been carefully stored for many years, and now feels like the right time to pass them on. Most importantly, all the proceeds will go to support Gilead House, a charity close to my heart that helps families rebuild their lives with dignity and strength.” Earlier this year, Perry also surprised fans with a reimagined version of Journey’s legendary ballad “Faithfully,” recorded as a duet with Willie Nelson. The collaboration, recorded in Nashville and at Perry’s Love Box studio, was praised for its stripped-back emotion and unlikely but powerful pairing. Founded over 25 years ago, Gilead House provides housing, education, job training, and long-term stability for mothers and children escaping homelessness and domestic violence. The funds raised through Perry’s auction will directly support programs that restore safety, independence, and hope for vulnerable families across Northern California. For fans, collectors, and anyone looking to make a real impact this holiday season, this auction isn’t just memorabilia. It’s a legacy meeting purpose. The Steve Perry Holiday Charity Auction is live now at Darkives Collectibles and closes December 16 at 12 PM PT.

Leonie Persch is in a rare category of artists who can live between worlds, geographically, musically, and emotionally, and turn that fluidity into something powerful. The German songwriter and artist built her foundation in Berlin’s sharp-edged creative scene, signing her first publishing deal right out of school and writing across Europe for major labels like Universal, Warner, STMPD, and Spinnin’. Her pen touched Disney syncs, charting EDM collaborations, and songwriting camps across the continent. But in 2025, Leonie stepped into a new chapter, one shaped by reinvention, independence, and a level of personal honesty she had never allowed herself to reach before. Now based in Los Angeles under an extraordinary-ability visa, Leonie has become one of the most compelling dual-identity artists to watch. Under her EDM alias EVIE, she’s collaborated with Afrojack, performed across global festival stages, and contributed to a track played at Ultra Europe, a massive moment for any rising artist. Under her legal name, she releases the kind of alt-pop that breathes vulnerability: cinematic, melancholic, intimate, and deeply human. Her 2025 catalog reflects that evolution, Blindfolded , Code Blue , and EVIE’s “ Hold On ” mark transitions, relocations, and emotional upheaval. Outside of the studio, Leonie’s year was equally transformative. She earned three Hollywood Independent Music Award nominations, landed top 5% of most-streamed songwriters of 2025, surpassed 70 million Spotify streams, and achieved her biggest EDM cut to date with Afrojack. She also launched INDIE TABLE, a bi-weekly networking series in LA and NYC, creating a safe, collaborative ecosystem for artists, songwriters, and producers, a reflection of her belief that community fuels creativity. Heading into 2026, Leonie is focused on one mission: to write as much music as possible. With her dual artistry thriving, a growing creative community at her side, and a renewed sense of emotional clarity, she’s stepping into a new era with both vulnerability and fire. You recently moved from Europe to Los Angeles under an extraordinary-ability visa. How did this massive relocation shape the themes of identity, transition, and self-reinvention across Blindfolded, Code Blue, and Dirty Habits? The move from Europe to Los Angeles completely reshaped my sense of identity. Blindfolded and Code Blue were written during the moment of leaving behind everything familiar. My community, my routines, even the version of myself that existed in Berlin. Those songs capture the process of transition, the uncertainty, and the internal rewiring that happens when you suddenly start over on a different continent. My upcoming single Dirty Habits is a personal turning point for me. Earlier in the year, I went through a very heavy time in my private life, and this song became an outlet to process that period. Without going deep into the details, it was a moment where everything felt overwhelming, and I had to find a way back to myself. The song captures that shift, the moment you decide to stop numbing or distracting yourself and start facing the world again with a clearer mind. It’s about acknowledging your struggles without letting them define you, finding lightness again in small moments, and remembering that healing isn’t linear but absolutely possible. For listeners, I hope it feels like a reminder that even when things get dark or chaotic, you can still reclaim your sense of self. You can choose better habits, better thoughts, and step back into your life with more clarity and more gratitude for what’s right in front of you. You release music under multiple aliases, Leonie Persch for alt-pop, and EVIE for EDM. How do you navigate these two artistic identities, and what emotional or creative needs does each one fulfill? Both identities serve different parts of me, and I love that I don’t have to compress everything into one sonic world. As Leonie Persch , I focus on alt-pop. It’s intimate and very lyric-driven, and it gives me the space to unpack personal thoughts, vulnerability, and the emotional transitions I go through. As EVIE , I get to lean into energy, adrenaline, and pure sonic expression. EDM lets me channel movement and the collaborative spirit I’ve always loved from working with DJs and producers.  Your collab with Afrojack was played at Ultra Europe, a massive milestone for an independent artist. How did that moment reshape your confidence, your expectation for yourself, or your perception of where your career is heading? Hearing a song I wrote and sang being played at Ultra Europe was one of those surreal moments that make everything feel possible. As an independent artist, you often have to build your own momentum, so seeing a global crowd react to something you created is incredibly affirming. To be honest, I always had a lot of trust in myself and my skills as a writer and vocalist - so this scenario definitely happened many times in my head before it happened in real life (haha) - and when it came true, it was just the best feeling ever and showed me I can continue trusting in myself. When the DJs with whom I collaborate play our songs at those huge festivals, and people love the music, and it brightens their day, that makes me really happy because that is one of the things I would love to contribute to society for the rest of my life. You’ve built INDIE TABLE, a networking series across LA and NYC. What inspired you to start your own creative community, and how has building that space influenced you as an independent artist? Moving to LA and starting over made me realize how essential community is, especially for independent artists who don’t have a huge support system. I wanted to create a space where people could meet collaborators, exchange ideas, find new clients, and feel less alone in an industry that can be incredibly isolating. INDIE TABLE grew faster than I expected, and hosting it bi-weekly has been one of the most grounding parts of my year. It keeps me connected, inspired, and constantly surrounded by people who are as passionate about creating as I am. When I get feedback from the attendees, and they’re telling me they've worked with multiple people who also attended the Indie table networking dinner - meaning, they found new long-term clients and earned more money AND found new friends and creative partners - that is ultimately what I was going for starting the event series and what I wished I had when I was starting. My initial thought as someone who moved to Los Angeles by herself, not really knowing anyone yet, was - if you don’t have a seat at the table yet, build it yourself. Looking into 2026 with the goal to “write as much music as possible,” what emotional terrain or new sonic directions are you excited to explore next? I’m excited to push both of my projects further – even more honesty and depth in my alt-pop releases, and more experimental and high-energy moments with EVIE. I feel like 2026 is going to be a year of trusting my instincts even more, taking risks, and exploring sounds that feel bolder and more intentional. Writing as much as possible is my way of staying open and letting the year shape the music instead of the other way around.