Jamie Alimorad did not come to play nice with the North Pole this year. And honestly? Respect. Every December, we’re force-fed the same Hallmark-core jingles telling us Christmas is perfect, magical, and full of joy if you just believe hard enough. Meanwhile, the rest of us are sitting there remembering that one year Santa ghosted us harder than a situationship. Alimorad finally said the quiet part out loud and turned it into a pop-rock banger. “Santa Sucks” is the holiday song for everyone who played by the rules, stayed on the Nice List, and still woke up to absolute crumbs. It’s sarcastic, it’s theatrical, it’s a little petty in the best way, but Jamie wraps it all in the same polished, radio-ready vocals that’ve carried him from Boston campus hero to viral sensation to Carnegie Hall performer. Dude knows how to sing, even when he’s dragging Santa through the snow. The track leans into cheeky storytelling and nostalgia, that sweet spot where humor meets heartbreak. You can feel the childhood wonder Jamie’s family built around Christmas Eve — and the tiny emotional bruise left behind when the holiday stopped hitting the same. Instead of pretending everything’s fine, he channels it into a song that’s basically a group therapy session for anyone who’s ever unwrapped socks. The real kicker? Over 50 friends, family members, and loved ones hopped on the chorus. It turns the hook into a full-blown rally cry, less jingle bells, more “we’ve been wronged, and we ride at dawn.” It’s the kind of communal chaos that makes the track feel like a cult classic in the making. And honestly, Jamie’s earned the right to have fun. His résumé is stacked: viral ballads, award-winning singles, chart placements, hit collaborations with the Vannellis, and a Carnegie Hall debut. He’s proven he can do the serious, soulful, award-bait tracks. So, his dropping a goofy, catchy, family-powered Christmas song? That’s an artist who’s secure enough in his craft not to take himself too seriously. “Santa Sucks” isn’t just a holiday release; it’s a reminder that Christmas nostalgia hits different when you’re grown, jaded, and still waiting on that one gift you swore the universe owed you. And instead of sulking about it, Jamie Alimorad turned it into something we can all scream-sing with pride. You’ve written emotional ballads, rock anthems, and award-winning singles . W hat unlocked the chaos gremlin inside you that led to “Santa Sucks”? There's a little chaos gremlin inside all of us! It's funny you phrase it like that, because as we were recording it (producer) Jordan (Sherman) was saying how in some strange way this is the most personal song I've ever written. And I knew what he meant. I love love songs, and I've mainly written from an autobiographical place, whether that be about relationships, places, or moments in time. There have been a few moments with songs like "Crawling Back to Me" and "Lucky Me" where I've shown my humor, but this one takes it to another level. The song started as a joke between my friend and me. We were discussing writing a song together, and he brought up the idea of doing a Christmas song, and that it should almost be an anti-Christmas song, like a kid not getting anything for Christmas. I thought it was brilliant! We got together on several occasions with the intention of writing it, or at least I did, but then we wound up going onto different projects. I made the commitment at the outset of the year that I would finally record a Christmas song, and I decided to just give it a go myself. What came out is very Jamie. If you hang out with me for an afternoon, you'll see this is my sense of humor. You said over 50 loved ones appear on this track. What was that recording session like, and were there any hilarious moments you almost kept in the final cut? Getting all those voices was really fun! Everyone did it remotely. I asked people to sing into their phones and send me the voice memos. A few of my music students have dialogue in the track. I did those with them, but again, it's just spoken into my phone. It would've been awesome to have everyone all together in one room, but they're literally from all over the country! I included everything that was sent to me, so nothing is on the cutting room floor. Holiday music is notoriously predictable. What was the biggest rule or cliché you wanted to break when making this song? I always loved Christmas music! That is, until I got a seasonal job at Bloomingdale's. I worked these eight-hour shifts, and I heard the same five songs over and over and over. I couldn't stand it! How many versions of "White Christmas," or "Have A Holly Jolly Christmas," or "The Christmas Song" do we need? Then whatever pop ones that were played were always the same thing - I miss my lover. Santa, please bring them back to me! I was really surprised that a lot of the songs I grew up listening to, which were all hits, weren't in rotation. I always thought I'd follow in the footsteps of those favorite artists' Christmas singles and albums: 98°, Backstreet Boys, Richard Marx, John Lennon, Paul McCartney, Wham! But I thought it would become just another Christmas song. I always want to go against the grain, so I thought more "Grandma Got Run Over By A Reindeer" than "All I Want For Christmas Is You." You’ve been racking up awards all year ,  Carnegie Hall debut, chart placements, and Amazon and iTunes wins. How does it feel to follow all that with a comedic Christmas track, and did that contrast feel refreshing? It's been a tremendous year in many ways! It's felt fantastic to get back to my pop/rock sound and to see the new material be so well received. For "Santa Sucks" to be the capstone is rather fitting. I think when we get to this time of year, it's a time for reflection, and it's always nice to have a smile come to your face upon doing so. I went so overboard with this track in the studio. I told Jordan to put everything in it. Church bells? Yes! Sleigh bells? Need 'em! Easter eggs of classic Christmas songs sprinkled in the arrangement? Gotta have it! Dozens of people shouting, "Santa sucks!" at the top of their lungs? Duh! I've never had more fun working on a track because at times it was utterly ridiculous!  “Santa Sucks” pokes fun at disappointment and nostalgia. What’s one real-life holiday letdown of yours that didn’t make the song but totally could have? I gotta say, Santa was always good to me! I can't really think of any time that there was something I really wanted and didn't get. That being said, I've had birthdays, anniversaries, and other special occasions where I was extremely disappointed. There was one time an ex got me concert tickets for Def Leppard. She insisted on planning the whole day, and that I wouldn't have to lift a finger. She didn't even tell me the date or location of the show because she wanted it to be a full night of surprises. Well, she got the date wrong, and we missed the show. So thanks for that, babe. But at the end of the day, I think a lot of those stories, at least mine, are ones I can look back on and laugh at. I don't know if eating my veggies helped get me on the Nice List, but I wasn't about to see if it wouldn't!

'Little Gems' by The Star Prairie Project might be Nolen Chew's universe, but one of the brightest forces shaping its atmosphere is the soft-spoken, genre-shifting vocalist and producer Ive Marie, who helped give the album its emotional backbone. Her presence threads through the record like sunlight through stained glass, subtle, intentional, and quietly transformative. From early 2000s nostalgia to dreamlike soundscapes, she brings a warmth that turns Nolen’s stories into full-blown worlds you can actually step into. In this conversation, she breaks down how she found her place inside the album’s ever-shifting genres, why “Sunshine Skies” needed to feel like a blissed-out daydream, the effortless synergy behind her collaborations, and how The Star Prairie Project ended up giving her the confidence to step deeper into production than ever before. Your presence on Little Gems brings so much softness and cinematic depth. When you first heard the early demos, what pulled you into the world Nolen was building? I think the simple, yet authentic vibe his writing gives. I've always loved early 2000s music. I feel like the artist wrote more straight from the heart. Even if it was a serious subject, somehow the music still felt good and oddly carefree. When you listen now, you feel a sense of nostalgia; that's what his songs make me feel and how they pull me in. Plus, they give me a chance to mix older and modern sounds.  The album jumps genres constantly, but your vocals somehow glue everything together. How did you approach keeping your identity intact while moving through so many styles? I've always loved most genres. So, singing different genres and different vocal styles is quite normal for me. However, to keep my identity intact, I always make sure to add in my "signature sounds"; simply in the way I sing my soft vocals or how I do my ad-libs. For the production side, I typically like to use unique sounds for the percussion that people don't typically add. Also, a big thing is probably how I like to warp my vocals, even if it's just in a small part of the song. That way, it feels like my own vibe.  “Sunshine Skies” feels especially airy and emotional. Can you walk us through the headspace you stepped into while recording that track? When you first read the lyrics, you automatically picture the whole scene that Nolen describes. He talks about birds singing, the sun shining, smelling the sea, seeing that special person, and being with them. It feels like bliss. When producing the beat, I wanted it to feel like a dream with that sense of happiness, like you never want to leave or wake up.  You and Rudiger share some really beautiful chemistry on the acoustic version of “When I Look At The World.” What was that collaborative dynamic like behind the scenes? Rudiger has a beautiful voice, and he's very easy to follow and get along with. He typically sends me the project we're going to work on together with his vocals, and I work off of that. I feel like our voices just automatically mesh well together. That's what makes it fun!  The Star Prairie Project has such a distinct visual and emotional universe. What do you feel this album says about who you are as an artist right now, and how has it shaped what you want to do next? I think it shows that I stay true to myself by always incorporating a part of myself into each song. I love and treat it as if it's my own, and am able to give any genre my unique sound. As far as shaping what I did next, Nolen was the first person to allow me to produce for him. He didn't look at me and assume I was a young woman who didn't know what I was doing (as a lot of people used to do). He took a chance on me, and it helped give me the confidence I needed to offer more of my production services to other people. I knew I had it in me, but sometimes you need someone else to believe in you. So, I'm forever grateful to him for that!

Holiday music is usually unbearable. Too sweet, too sanitized, too "everything is perfect." But Sydney Gordon clearly didn't get the memo, because "Naughty List" pulls up like the holiday record for people who roll their eyes at matching pajamas and forced cheer. It's pop, but with teeth. A warm winter glow with a shot of tequila in it. Gordon taps into the side of December nobody wants to admit out loud. The messy decisions. The flirty chaos. The nights you definitely shouldn't be out, but you go anyway. Her vocals are crisp and deliberate, cutting through dreamy synths with that signature New York bite she never hides. She doesn't sing like she's trying to be cute. She sings like she's telling on herself and daring you to relate. The production leans into glossy holiday pop, but the attitude underneath is what sells it. The track sparkles, sure, but not in a Hallmark-movie way. More like walking into a party you absolutely weren't invited to, but somehow become the main character. The groove is subtle but addictive, and the hook sticks to your brain like peppermint lip gloss. What makes "Naughty List" work is how grounded it feels. Holiday releases usually play pretend. Gordon refuses to. She captures the real December energy: wanting joy, craving connection, making questionable choices, and not apologizing for any of it. Her quote seals the deal. This isn't about rebellion for shock value. It's about owning the gap between how you're "supposed to act" and who you actually are. For fans of her earlier releases like "Bad Habit" and "Good On Me," this is Gordon leveling up that emotional precision she's known for, but with a playful twist. She keeps the honesty and vocal polish but swaps the vulnerability for charisma and mischief. The result is a holiday track that feels alive rather than manufactured. If you're tired of Christmas songs that sound like scented candle commercials, "Naughty List" is the antidote. It's cheeky, confident, relatable, and way too replayable for a song about being festive in all the wrong ways. Sydney Gordon just gave December its villain era, and honestly, we needed it. When you were writing “Naughty List,” what was the exact moment you realized this song wasn’t going to be another cookie-cutter holiday track? The second we hit that pre-chorus. The song snapped into this little fantasy world of wanting everything oversized and over-the-top, and it stopped feeling like “a Christmas song” and started feeling like my Christmas song.  You’ve carved out a reputation for emotional precision in your past work. What emotional truth were you trying to protect in this song, even while keeping it fun and chaotic? I wanted to keep that feeling of craving connection without making it heavy. Like underneath all the sparkle and the jokes, the song is really about wanting someone who feels like your safe place during the wildest time of the year.  Holiday music usually plays it painfully safe. What was the riskiest creative decision you made on this track, and why did you double down on it? Probably the attitude. We let the vocal be a little sly, a little wink-wink, and we didn’t soften it. There’s this instinct in holiday music to round all the edges so it feels family-friendly but we did the exact opposite.  If your fans could hear the first demo version of “Naughty List,” what would surprise them the most about how it sounded before it became this polished troublemaker? Actually, the demo had a totally different chorus, lyrics, and melody. And the post hook was the outro. We recorded the final vocals, and something just did not feel right. The concept was there, but the attitude wasn’t fully cooked yet. You’d hear it and be like, “Oh, she’s cute… but she needs a personality.” You grew up in New York, a city that basically turns into both a snow globe and a survival test every December. How did NYC energy shape the attitude or aura of this track? New York is who I am. So I think every song I write has that grit to it. New York is a Christmas wonderland, and I wanted a track that you imagine playing as you’re walking down 5th Avenue as it’s snowing. It’s glossy and magical, but there’s a little bite to it… like a Christmas song that learned how to survive midtown at rush hour.

Emerging Las Vegas artist Rhaina Yasmin steps into a powerful new chapter with Magician , a five-track release that blends indie rock, folk subtlety, and a deeply introspective singer-songwriter sensibility. It’s a project that invites listeners into an inner world shaped by nostalgia, grief, and the quiet, persistent search for meaning, all delivered through Rhaina Yasmin's gentle, luminous vocal style. Across the EP, Rhaina Yasmin explores the emotional weight of memory and the fragile beauty found in its aftermath. Magician doesn’t chase grandeur; instead, it thrives in restraint, leaning into soft tones, atmospheric arrangements, and lyrics that read like pages from a journal. What emerges is a body of work that feels both intimate and universal, grounded in the emotional honesty of someone who isn’t afraid to sit with difficult feelings. Opening track “Your Daughter” acts as a tender entry point, setting the project’s reflective tone. From there, Rhaina drifts into “Little Moon,” a song that glows with innocence and longing, capturing the bittersweet warmth of childhood wonder. “Patchouli” takes a deeper, earthier turn, pulling listeners into memories marked by loss and the sensory imprints that linger long after. “Dagger” sharpens the emotional arc with subtle intensity, before the EP culminates in the title track, “Magician,” where Rhaina Yasmin repeats the mantra “I’ll get by with the sleight of my hand.” It’s a simple phrase that becomes the emotional anchor of the project, a quiet promise of survival and resilience. What makes Magician compelling is the way it transforms heaviness into softness. Rhaina Yasmin doesn’t mask her grief or her longing for the magic she once believed in; she transforms those emotions into something delicate and deeply human. The EP feels like a sanctuary for listeners working through their own unspoken feelings, a safe, hushed space where vulnerability becomes strength. Reflecting on the project, Rhaina Yasmin shares, “I hope people find this release and feel comfort in expressing their deepest emotions. I want those who listen to connect and see parts of themselves intertwined.” It’s a mission the EP fulfills with clarity and grace. With Magician , Rhaina Yasmin establishes herself as an artist with a strong emotional viewpoint and a rare ability to translate introspection into sound. Thoughtful, immersive, and quietly powerful, the EP marks a significant step forward in her artistic evolution and positions her as a voice to watch in the indie landscape. Your songs carry this beautiful balance of innocence and ache. When you were writing Magician , what memories or moments were the hardest to revisit, and why? I visited my childhood home in New York in October of 2024, which clung to me all year and largely inspired the underlying theme of Magician. There was a particular ache that came from being there and leaving, letting go of the past, while simultaneously yearning for what could have been. I’m a deeply sensitive person, in that it feels like my experiences with grief and nostalgia are always present, but in writing them down, I find release.  “Your Daughter” and “Dagger” were both written in a stream of emotion, as I'd also been coping with my mother’s health this past year. These songs are some of my most honest and a genuine plea for hope. I was lighting candles and writing pieces of music every night throughout the spring.  There’s a quiet but powerful sense of grief woven through the EP. How did you navigate turning something so heavy into something so gentle and luminous? Grief often shows up in flashes of memory, a scent, or anticipation, and the process of sitting in that isolation resulted in something gentle, yet raw and explosive. I think softness has always felt organic to me and naturally flourishes in the way that I write. As I worked through building in energy, the luminosity shimmers underneath, as there is a prevalent longing to heal. Each track feels like a different fragment of the same spell. How did “Your Daughter,” “Little Moon,” “Patchouli,” “Dagger,” and “Magician” reveal themselves as belonging to the same emotional world? They’re all different incantations circling the same wound. A lingering ache of nostalgia, a desire, or fear of the uncertain– it finds its way into each track because those emotions are always with me.  You close the EP with the line “I’ll get by with the sleight of my hand.” What does that phrase mean to you now, after finishing the project? The line “I’ll get by with the sleight of my hand” is a repetitive mantra, an echo from the powerful women in my life who guide me to be strong. Now, when I play it, it feels like an affirmation to myself, a reminder that I can create my own path and not let my fears or anxieties stop me from living in the moment. As someone who writes from such an internal, vulnerable space, what do you hope listeners understand about you , or about themselves , when they sit with this EP in a quiet moment? When someone sits with these songs in a quiet moment, I hope they feel inspired to be honest and sensitive. Each song was written with a cathartic intention of expressing the emotions that weigh so heavily on me. If they recognize themselves intertwined– their fears, longing, and even a possibility for healing– then I hope they also recognize that they’re not navigating those feelings alone.

For many independent and emerging bands, building a visual identity can feel just as important as shaping their sound. One of the easiest ways artists have been doing this is through simple, collectible merch — especially custom enamel pins. Custom merch suppliers like   vivipins  make it easy for artists to turn simple artwork or a band logo into a high-quality pin fans can wear and collect, helping musicians strengthen their connection with their audience from day one. What Makes Enamel Pins Such a Popular Merch Item? Custom enamel pins have become one of the easiest and most affordable merch options for new and independent bands. They’re small, easy to carry on tour, simple to sell at shows, and fans love collecting them. For many artists, enamel pins work almost like a mini version of a band’s identity. Bands often turn their sound or story into simple visuals that work well as pin designs, making each piece feel connected to their music. Fans can attach them to jackets, backpacks, guitar straps, or tote bags, keeping the band’s image visible in everyday life. For anyone new to merch design, enamel pins are very beginner-friendly. They don’t require complicated artwork, and even simple shapes and colors can be turned into a strong visual symbol. A basic understanding of how enamel pins work is enough to get started — they’re created by filling recessed metal areas with colored enamel, a process you can read more about on the Enamel pin page. How Pins Help Bands Express Their Visual Identity Every band has a sound, but most also have a visual style. Custom enamel pins give artists a way to turn that visual identity into something fans can touch and wear. Bands often choose designs based on: A logo or band symbol A favorite lyric or album theme A tour mascot or inside joke Artwork that represents their music style Even new bands without a big brand identity can start with a simple design. A clean shape or a bold line drawing can communicate a lot, especially when fans associate it with the experience of hearing the music live. Why Fans Love Collectible Pins Fans enjoy collecting custom enamel pins for the same reasons they collect vinyl, posters, or tour shirts — they’re small pieces of a moment, a show, or a connection to a band. For emerging artists, this can be especially powerful. When a fan buys a pin at a show, they’re not just buying merch — they’re showing support, carrying the band's symbol, and helping spread its identity to others. Pins also work well for fans who don’t want to spend much money but still want something meaningful. As a low-cost merch item, they make it easier for more fans to take home a piece of the show. How Bands Use Pins to Build Community Custom enamel pins often become conversation starters. When fans wear a band’s pin on a jacket or bag, other fans recognize it instantly. This helps build a sense of community around the music, both online and offline. Bands also use pins in creative ways, such as: Limited-edition drops for special shows Pins tied to album launches Tour-only collectible series Collaboration pins with visual artists Fan-club exclusive designs These small ideas help fans feel included and give them a reason to keep engaging with the band over time. Easy Tips for Bands Starting Their First Pin Design Independent musicians don’t need a large budget or design experience to create their first enamel pin. Many artists start with: A simple black-and-white logo Minimal color designs Shapes inspired by song titles Album cover details Hand-drawn sketches turned into clean outlines Even simple, low-detail artwork can become a strong and recognizable symbol when turned into a pin. Final Thoughts Across the independent music scene, custom enamel pins remain popular because they feel personal, affordable, and collectible. They carry the spirit of DIY culture and let fans express their connection to a band in a simple and meaningful way. For new and underground artists, they offer a low-risk, high-impact way to share identity, connect with fans, and grow a stronger community around the music.

LinoXren is not playing nice this time. The French-American artist who built his early following on sleek hybrid pop and hip-hop has stepped into something darker, sharper, and way more personal with his new album “Plastic Made.” This is not vibe music. This is a cultural slap disguised as a playlist. LinoXren takes everything we pretend we are not affected by social media validation, OnlyFans culture, fake intimacy, curated identities, and rips it open like a plastic wrapper. What hits first is the energy. The production moves between trap, hip hop, rock, and glossy pop textures, but nothing feels recycled. It all feels intentional. He is building a world where the beats feel synthetic on purpose, like the soundtrack to an era where everyone is performing, and no one is connecting. His influences show up in flashes, Travis Scott swagger, XXXTentacion's emotional weight, and Twenty One Pilots' scale, but never in a way that overshadows his own voice. Vocally, LinoXren sounds like someone who has lived on both sides of the problem. He knows the highs of digital attention and the emptiness that follows. He switches between rap cadences and melodic hooks with a confidence that makes the entire record feel like one long confession. You feel the tension in his tone when he talks about losing himself or trusting the wrong people. This is where the album hits hardest. Not in the commentary, but in the admission that he got caught in the same traps he is calling out. “Plastic Made” matters because it is not just observational. It is self-incriminating. LinoXren is not preaching from a pedestal. He is standing in the mess with everyone else and saying the part nobody wants to say out loud. This era has warped us. We chase illusions. We mistake attention for love. We perform until we forget who the hell we are. He leaves listeners with a final intention. If this album makes someone pause, reflect, or feel human again, then he considers that a win. And honestly, in a generation drowning in fake perfection, an album this honest is a victory on its own.

Miami Beach’s VIP scene showed up in full force last night as Rhonda’s Kiss hosted its annual Fall “Art of Hope” charity event during Art Basel , this year set against the backdrop of a stunning private waterfront estate. The evening, benefiting the Cleveland Clinic of Florida’s Cancer Patient Care Program , was hosted by filmmaker Danny A. Abeckaser, Rhonda’s Kiss Executive Director and producer Kyle Stefanski, and Chairman Marc Stefanski, with partners Haykoff Gallery, Haute Jets, and Haute Living  elevating the night’s experience. Danny A. Abeckaser at Rhonda's Kiss 2025 The event delivered the kind of Basel energy money can’t manufacture. Grammy-nominated artist Robin Thicke shocked the room with an intimate, unannounced performance of his hit single “Magic,” fittingly aligned with the night’s mission of hope and healing. DJ Yissel kept the momentum going poolside, while actor Harry Goodwins, best known for his standout role in Guy Ritchie’s The Gentlemen on Netflix, was among the notable guests in attendance. Harry Goodwins at Rhonda's Kiss 2025 In collaboration with Haykoff Gallery, guests were treated to artworks by Dr. Simon Ourian, presented by renowned art dealer Bella Haykoff, adding a distinctive fine-art edge to the philanthropic celebration. Just 100 curated VIP attendees were welcomed into the estate, where culinary stations showcased an impressive lineup: Sushi Yasu Takana (aka The Sushi Legend), an Italian spread by Eataly, caviar by Dear Caviar, and espresso offerings from La Vela. Italian spread by Eataly The night’s beverage partners, El Cristiano Tequila, Stateside Vodka, Peroni Nastro Azzurro, plus select wines and champagne, kept the evening flowing as guests participated in both silent and live auctions. Featured items included original artworks from actor Emile Hirsch and Rebellium Wines’ Blake Barrios, along with two charter flights offered by Haute Jets and Slate Private Jets, marking their newly announced partnership. Funds raised support Rhonda’s Kiss, a 501(c)(3) nonprofit providing vital non-medical assistance to cancer patients, including childcare, transportation, rent and mortgage support, wigs, groceries, utilities, therapy, and other overlooked necessities that directly impact quality of life. Rhonda’s Kiss continues to partner with leading institutions across the U.S., including City of Hope, Cedars-Sinai, Brooklyn Maimonides, and Cleveland Clinic (Florida & Ohio). Those wishing to contribute to the Cancer Patient Care Program can donate at: https://www.rhondaskiss.org/donatenow

Mute the Madness pull up with “In The Moment,” a track that instantly checks every tired rap trope at the door. No ego, no flexing, no fake toxicity dressed up as masculinity. Instead, the band steps straight into the kind of emotional honesty most hip hop acts claim they are “too real” for but never actually touch. And they do it with a level of intention that makes the record feel less like a love song and more like a full-blown accountability moment. Tan sets the tone with a verse that feels like he ripped a page out of his private diary and decided to rap it anyway. He owns the mistakes, the distance, the fallout, and the slow burn of trying to rebuild something he broke. His delivery has this gripping edge, like someone talking fast before their courage runs out. The production behind him leans warm, soulful, and unbothered by trends. It feels nostalgic without sounding dated, like a beat that understands heartbreak better than the person rapping over it. Righteous comes in on verse two and locks into a completely different emotional register. His verse is steadier, more grounded, like someone talking from the other side of the chaos. He refuses to let outside noise sabotage something real. It is a reminder that staying is a choice. Fighting for something is a choice. And watching rappers talk about loyalty without treating it like a punchline feels refreshing as hell. What makes “In The Moment” a hit is not just the message. It is the fact that Mute the Madness deliver it through a full band, ditching the synthetic, copy-and-paste production dominating Spotify’s rap playlists. Their instrumental warmth makes the whole track feel lived in. You can hear the R&B influence, the rock grit, the hip hop backbone, and the reggae soul bleeding through the edges. This is grown folk rap. Vulnerable but not soft, real without being reckless. If this is the lane they are carving out, their upcoming album Echoes Everywhere is shaping up to be a much-needed shake-up in hip hop’s emotional landscape. When you wrote " In The Moment ," what was the hardest truth either of you had to admit on the mic that you were not admitting in real life? We find music to be therapeutic, and when we wrote "In The Moment," that is exactly what it was. We're getting some things off our chest and being vulnerable. Allowing ourselves to be vulnerable is not always easy, especially on the mic. Sonically, your band setup gives you way more emotional range than traditional rap production. What is one risk you took in the studio that changed the entire direction of the track? All the tracks we do are based on the vibe of the song. We do not necessarily look at it as risks but more like a marriage between the vocals and the instruments. It is all about what makes sense sonically. You talk about staying when walking away would be easier. How do you personally recognize the difference between loyalty and self-sacrifice in your relationships? Self-sacrifice is about what you are willing to sacrifice or not sacrifice, while loyalty in a relationship is more of a responsibility between both parties. Hip hop rarely centers male vulnerability unless it is wrapped in bravado. How intentional were you about flipping that narrative without losing the grit? We were very intentional in being vulnerable because it is seldom on display from a male perspective in hip hop. We also feel like it is a breath of fresh air within the music. We have songs where it is all about the bravado. However, In The Moment is not one of those. Your new album, Echoes Everywhere, drops next year. Where does " In The Moment " sit in that story, and what part of your identity are you finally saying out loud on this project? In The Moment does not appear on Echoes Everywhere. It is just a teaser and appetizer, so to speak. This project showcases vulnerability, joy, and some very serious questions, but above all, it showcases the freedom of creativity.

Divergent are not here to play it safe. They are here to play it loud. Their latest single, “Not Until It’s Right,” feels like the kind of track that gets you out of your chair before you even realize it. It is not just a song. It is a full-body experience built from instinct, tight chemistry, and a decades-long friendship that clearly still has fire in it. The trio of James Richards, Mike McAlister, and Paul Richards are longtime collaborators who finally decided to stop overthinking and just do the damn thing. After years apart, they reunited under a new name and tapped into an energy that cannot be faked. “Not Until It’s Right” takes everything Divergent have been teasing in their earlier work, from their free-spirited debut “Runnin’ Free” to their evolving live sound, and spins it into something fresh, magnetic, and just the right amount of dirty. The track opens with Paul’s crisp drumsticks snapping you to attention before James’ keys and Mike’s bass slither in like co-conspirators. The groove is playful, confident, and slightly dangerous, like flirting under neon lights while already knowing how the night ends. Lyrically, the song keeps it simple and bold. Boy meets girl. The girl refuses half-hearted love. The only way to earn it is to move at her pace. “No, no, no,” she says, and that hook sticks instantly. It is cheeky, catchy, and it drives home the idea that love, like music, only hits when the timing is right. Where Divergent really shines is in the performance itself. You can hear how much fun they are having. James lays down a hypnotic piano line that began, as the story goes, on his old Chickering upright. It sounds like a memory turning into movement. Mike’s bass walks with swagger, weaving through the rhythm like it is effortless. Paul’s drumming brings that big-room pulse that reminds you these three are built for the stage. Nothing is polished to death. Everything feels alive. The video filmed at Sweetwater Studios captures Divergent exactly as they are. Three musicians locked into their craft and vibing like they own the room. There is no front, no forced branding, no pretending. They are playing because it is in their blood. That kind of authenticity is rare now. Divergent may be seasoned players, but this new chapter feels like the beginning of something wild. If “Not Until It’s Right” is a preview of their upcoming album Rev It Up, then buckle up. This band is not done making noise. They are only getting warmed up. This track captures a feeling of weightlessness, late-night possibility.  What moment or memory sparked the story behind "Not Until It's Right"? James:  Actually, there's not one specific moment or memory that sparked the story behind "Not Until It's Right".  When I write, I usually come up with the music first, then the lyrics.  The piano chord sequence that kicks off the song has a strong rhythmic drive that immediately sets the tone. That rhythmic chord sequence immediately invoked in me a feeling of dancing.  I knew right away the lyrics would center around that kind of theme.  The fact that I would be comfortable writing lyrics about dancing is probably the more interesting story behind the song.  I inherited my musical genes from my mother and her side of the family.  My mother loved music.  She loved to sing and dance.  When I was a toddler, I remember singing Christmas songs with her. Just the two of us.  When I was a kid, I remember her telling me stories about how she loved to dance the jitterbug when she was young.  So, all of that was instilled in me at a young age.  As a result, I grew up with a love of music and a strong sense of rhythm.  I remember being the only guy who would dance with the girls on fast songs during junior high school dances.  That was pretty fun!  Later in life, my wife and I went through a period when we went out dancing on Saturday nights.  My wife also has great rhythm and loves to dance.  Needless to say, we had a lot of fun. We were a lot younger then!  So, I think the combination of those experiences seeped into the dancing theme of the song.  I centered the story of the song around a guy seeing a girl dancing in a club on a Saturday night and immediately falling in love at first sight.  The story is completely fictional, but it nicely supports the dancing theme of the song.  When I finished the lyrics, I noticed the girl in the song completely controls the situation and is not willing to submit to the guy's initial attraction until she's satisfied that he is just right. Her love needs rhythm to survive, so she needs a lover who has rhythm and can dance.  However, she is initially attracted to him, and he senses that.  He's willing to hang in there with her initial rejection because he thinks she is worth it.  So, on the surface, the lyrics seem fairly straightforward.  However, if you break it down, definite sub-themes are going on.  History, culture, and even biology show that dancing is a part of human mate selection. It just is.  Who knows where we would be as a human race without dancing?  Right?  Another sub-theme is that the girl freely expresses her power to decide if this guy is right or not.  I like that.  Unfortunately, I've seen a lot of female oppression in my life. I'm not a fan of any form of human oppression.  Being free from oppression is a theme that runs through a lot of my writing.  I like it when a person feels empowered to decide what is right for them.  You only have one life to get it right, so stand up for yourself and make it count.  James' piano riff sets the stage for the song.  How did each member build on that initial spark? James:  We definitely went through a building process on this song.  I initially showed the song to Paul, and he and I worked on it with keyboards and drums.  As always, we played through it a bunch of times as Paul developed his drum parts.  One time during his count off, he randomly hit his drumsticks together, which created a nice clicking sound that really worked.  I said Let's do that every time at the beginning of the song and it stuck.  That made it on the final recording. We also worked quite a bit on the timing of the bridge.  It took a little work, but we finally got it where we wanted it.  It's a tricky section. We recorded four rough demos and sent the best one to Mike in New Jersey.  Then Mike worked on it for a few days and sent his bass recording back to us. Wow, he had this walking bassline on the verses that I did not see coming.  There's no way I would have thought of that.  It was such a surprise that I didn't know what to think at first.  However, the more I listened to it, the more I understood where he was coming from.  I love that bassline now, and I couldn't imagine the song without it. That is such a great example of what we're going for with this band. We want to challenge each other to think divergently so that the culmination of all three of us working together takes the music to a higher level.    Mike:  I listened to the keyboard, drums, and vocals a few times on the demo tape, and it felt like a very danceable song that needed a moving bassline. I've always thought that in most songs, the bass is what makes me want to move or not, so I started playing around with a walking bassline. Over a few more weeks of trying different things, I decided to be very intentional and make it a pattern, being sure I tied the tune together. I think it worked out pretty well, and it's one of the more enjoyable basslines I've worked on. Paul:  We initially brought the drums in as a rim shot, but changed it to a stick click to lighten it up more. From there, I wanted it to continue the light pop/dance feel, but also build, and eventually it rocks at the end. I kind of look at the song like a couple of dancers that are totally in sync with one another, and they keep building their dance as the song progresses. Compared to "Runnin' Free," this song feels more carefree and dance-focused.  Was that shift intentional? James:  Well, yes and no. The shift from "Runnin' Free" to "Not Until It's Right" wasn't specifically intentional on my part.  When I write, I focus on each song separately, and I don't worry about how a particular song sounds compared to my other songs. However, I'm not intentionally trying to make each song different. What is intentional is that we want to create iconic songs that are timeless and stand on their own.  Not based on genre, but based on pure originality. Every time I start writing new music, that's what I'm thinking about.  I'm always searching for an iconic song.  I'm not worried about whether it falls into a particular genre or not.  What I'm worried about is if this is an original, inspiring piece of music that could be remembered for all time.  That's a big and maybe unattainable goal, but it keeps me coming back to the well to write another song. We also intentionally named ourselves Divergent because we don't want to limit ourselves to one narrow genre.  We love writing and playing a broad range of rock music, and, at this stage in our lives, we want to express ourselves to the fullest extent possible.   Mike:  Divergent is about trying different musical ideas and not being locked into any particular genre. I think for "Not Until it's Right" we were thinking about a fun song with a definite bounce and a different vibe than "Runnin' Free". I think we've always enjoyed playing music people would dance to… thinking back to when James and I were in high school playing our first gigs together, responding to the energy of the dancers in the crowd. It's as much fun to watch people enjoy our music as it is to play it for them. Paul:  Totally our intent. You're never going to get the same tune with Divergent. It's not in our musical DNA. Our music brings in so many styles that it's hard to pin us down to a specific genre. The video radiates an effortless chemistry between the three of you.  What was the most memorable moment from filming at Sweetwater Studios? James:  For me, it was the fact that we were there and actually doing it.  It was very surreal for me.  The first time I went to Sweetwater was several years ago during one of their Gear Fest events.  I toured Sweetwater Studios, and I remember being totally impressed with the entire studio and all the gear they had.  At that point, I never would have imagined that I would record there, let alone shoot a music video there! I would say that the video definitely captures how much we love music and how much we enjoy playing original music together.  We are doing this because it is in our souls. There's a lot of history between the three of us.  We grew up in the same small town in Iowa, and Paul is my brother, and Mike and I are childhood friends who started hanging out and playing music when we were 14. We have come a long way since then, and the fact that we still love doing this together is amazing all by itself.   Mike:  In my mind, the most memorable moment was watching the video filming process unfold and feeling it was so natural for us to create a video around our great music. In many ways, the energy we were able to convey in the video was as natural as playing the song together in rehearsals, live for an audience, or during the recording process. It's all part of our energy and vibe. Paul:  I remember looking at the other two guys and thinking, "Is this really happening?" When the cameras and lighting started being set up, it sank in that we're going to take this unique experience to a whole different level. As you prepare for the 2026 album  Rev It Up,  how does "Not Until It's Right" foreshadow where Divergent's sound is heading? James:  I think the difference between "Runnin' Free" and "Not Unitl It's Right" foreshadows that the Divergent sound is going to be well... divergent.  We're not interested in, for example, just three-chord power rock all of the time.  Sure, I'm the first one who likes to turn it up loud and rock out. I'll take the blame for playing too loudly any day.  I admit it. We're always going to have that loud, power rock aspect to our music.  But, hey, there's so much more to our musical palette. Playing the exact same narrow style of music all the time gets a little boring and constrained.  We value originality and independent thought.  So, that's what you're going to see more of on our second album. I would say the songwriting, playing, and production on the upcoming second album are stronger than those on the first one.  That's our goal.  We want to keep getting better and more sophisticated and original in everything we do.  That's the Divergent sound.   Mike:  From my perspective, the bassline in "Not Until It's Right" was more complex than it was in "Runnin' Free". There are a few songs on that album that get a little complicated, but to be honest, I was working hard to be consistent and not too adventurous during that first recording session. However, knowing we were going to record more of James' amazing songs after the first recording session, I wanted to be able to feel more confident in what I brought to the table, so I worked on my technique and speed in the time between albums. I feel like technically my basslines are better and more expressive in all the songs on "Rev it Up," and it helps to bring out the best of our collective musicality. Jason Peets, our producer, also has an amazing way of making my tone come through the mix perfectly. Listeners will truly think that our sound and musical direction are divergent when they hear our new music. There are a few rockers, but the eight songs on the next album feature several other mixes of genres and feels. To answer your question, Divergent's sound isn't headed in a single direction.  We can't wait to release the new music to our fans, so they will get a better idea of what it truly means to be Divergent!  Paul:  The new album has lots of hard-driving rockers, ballads, and continues to lean into our progressive roots as well. There's more going on vocally, too. We've worked in lots of layers. Listeners can expect to hear Mike more on this album as well. He was able to add more low-end and also gave us some killer bass runs.

Some artists make music because it is fun. Others make it because it is the only thing keeping them from drowning. Her journey did not start in a studio or on a stage but in the middle of family chaos, bullying, grief, and the kind of self doubt that could have shut her down for good. Instead, she wrote through it. Performed through it. Survived through it. From poetry scribbled in middle school to Mario personally responding to her track Love Lost, her story reminds us that showing up for yourself, even slowly and shakily, still matters. Her voice hits with purpose because it was earned, not given. Your journey began as poetry written amid chaos. Looking back now, do you feel like music saved you, or did you save yourself through music? I’ve always loved music. I would sing loud and proudly to my favorite songs and musicals. My poetry that turned into songs came along the way, and that saved me. So looking back now, it was both. You’ve dealt with fear, comparison, bullying, loss, and still pushed forward. What was the exact moment you realized your voice wasn’t something to hide anymore? The moment I realized that my voice wasn’t something to hide anymore was last year. I made a declaration to myself that I would not stop singing and that I welcome every opportunity that’s good and fruitful. After the turmoil and chaos, I said What do I have to lose? What am I afraid of? “Romans 5:8” wasn’t just a debut single; it was a turning point born from grief and mentorship. How did losing someone who believed in you so deeply shape the artist you’ve become? Losing someone who believed in me so deeply shaped the artist that I’ve become by forcing me to grow up in my art. I couldn’t lean on their encouragement anymore. I had to build that foundation within myself and speak life into myself over and over. You had shows stacking every weekend, meeting legends, building momentum, and then the pandemic hit. What did learning to record alone in your own space teach you that the stage never could? Recording alone in my own space stripped away the pressure. I could experiment, fail, and try again with no judgment. I found parts of my voice I didn’t even know were there. Mario hearing your track “Love Lost” and responding is a huge full-circle moment. How did that validation shift the way you see your art, and what does “not giving up” look like for you now? Mario hearing my track “Love Lost” validated the way I see my art in a major way by giving me the extra push and motivation to keep creating during the chaos when I was really burnt out. Not giving up honestly looks like giving myself grace and resting when I need to, so I can show up for myself and my art. That’s important for me moving forward.