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Let’s be honest: not everyone wants peppermint pop and forced joy blasting from every speaker for an entire month. The holidays can be heavy, quiet, lonely, reflective, or just overstimulating as hell. If traditional holiday music makes you want to fake a phone call and leave the room, this list is for you. These aren’t Christmas songs. They’re the end-of-year songs. Music for night drives, empty kitchens, complicated families, end-of-year spirals, and moments where you just want the world to slow down. 1. River – Joni Mitchell Not technically a Christmas song, but spiritually devastating in the most winter-appropriate way. “River” captures the ache of wanting escape during a season built around togetherness. Soft, honest, timeless. 2. The Only Thing – Sufjan Stevens Quiet existential reckoning wrapped in delicate instrumentation. This is what plays when the decorations are still up, but the joy hasn’t shown up yet. 3. Motion Picture Soundtrack – Radiohead Haunting, reflective, and emotionally unresolved, which feels extremely accurate for late December. Not festive. Just real. 4. Moon – Kid Francescoli Dreamy, nocturnal, and detached in the best way. Perfect for winter nights when you’re avoiding small talk and staring out the window instead. 5. Cellophane – FKA twigs Vulnerable without being dramatic. This song feels like admitting something to yourself you’ve been avoiding all year, quietly. 6. Holocene – Bon Iver Cold air, wide space, emotional humility. Bon Iver remains undefeated for winter listening that doesn’t try to sell you happiness. 7. Night Shift – Lucy Dacus For anyone processing endings while everyone else is celebrating beginnings. Slow burn heartbreak with emotional payoff. 8. Everybody’s Got to Learn Sometime – The Korgis Melancholy pop perfection. Nostalgic without being corny, sad without being overwhelming. A reminder that change is unavoidable, even during the holidays. 9. Moon Song – Phoebe Bridgers December energy personified. Soft devastation, self-awareness, and emotional clarity wrapped in gentle instrumentation. 10. Between the Bars – Elliott Smith For the nights that feel too quiet and the thoughts that won’t shut up. Heavy, intimate, and painfully human, but never empty. Holiday music doesn’t have to sound like joy to be meaningful. Sometimes it just needs to acknowledge where you actually are. These songs don’t ask you to smile, celebrate, or pretend. They sit with you, and honestly, that’s the real gift. If you’re feeling disconnected this season, you’re not broken. You’re just listening differently. Why Does Music Help When You Feel Lonely? Loneliness isn’t just an emotional state; it’s a neurological one. When we feel isolated, the brain registers it similarly to physical pain, activating stress responses that heighten anxiety and emotional sensitivity. Music steps in as a kind of bridge, offering connection without requiring social interaction, which is exactly why it can feel so comforting when human closeness feels out of reach. From a scientific standpoint, listening to music activates the brain’s reward system, triggering the release of dopamine, the neurotransmitter associated with pleasure and motivation. This chemical response can gently counteract the emotional dullness that often accompanies loneliness, restoring a sense of engagement with the world. Even slow, melancholic music, especially music that mirrors how we feel, can produce this effect, because recognition itself is reassuring. Music also stimulates the release of oxytocin, sometimes referred to as the “bonding hormone.” While oxytocin is commonly linked to social connection, research suggests that music can evoke similar feelings of trust, safety, and emotional closeness. In other words, music can simulate companionship. It doesn’t replace human connection, but it reminds the brain what connection feels like. There’s also a regulation component at play. Rhythm and melody help synchronize brain activity, which can lower cortisol levels and reduce stress. This is why certain songs feel grounding during moments of emotional overload. When loneliness causes thoughts to spiral inward, music provides structure, a beginning, a middle, and an end, giving the mind something steady to hold onto. Perhaps most importantly, music validates emotion without demanding explanation. When you’re lonely, you don’t always want advice or optimism. You want acknowledgment. Music offers that acknowledgment in a way that feels private and non-invasive, allowing listeners to process feelings safely and at their own pace. In that sense, music doesn’t cure loneliness, but it softens it. It reminds us that someone else has felt this way before, translated it into sound, and left it there waiting. Sometimes, that quiet recognition is enough to make the solitude feel less empty.

Chloe Mayse isn’t making indie pop for background noise. She’s writing from the kind of emotional place most artists spend years avoiding. The queer, alternative pop singer-songwriter from Toronto just released her debut EP Dear Love … , and it feels less like a polished “first project” and more like a personal reckoning set to melody. Recorded between Los Angeles and Toronto, the EP captures real-life experiences as they happened, without sanding down the edges. Love, heartbreak, mental health, family fractures, and self-discovery all collide here, and Chloe doesn’t pretend to have clean answers. She just tells the truth. Her path into music already hinted at where she was headed. Early in her career, Chloe won a singing competition that put her on stage backing Tegan and Sara at the JUNO Awards, a moment that helped her envision herself not just as a singer, but as a queer artist with a future in music. A multi-instrumentalist who’s been singing since she was two, playing guitar since ten, and writing songs since fifteen, Chloe has always treated songwriting as more than a creative outlet. It’s been a way to understand herself, her queerness, and the world around her, while also advocating openly for mental health and the queer community in Toronto. Dear Love…  takes its name from Chloe’s writing process. Each song is written like a journal entry, addressed to love in all its forms, including self-love. The EP opens with “High School,” a track that captures the loneliness of being fifteen and trying to fit into the version of life you think you’re supposed to want. Parties, crushes, expectations, and the hope of first love all swirl together, but what lingers is isolation. Chloe writes about loving a girl who never truly saw her back the same way, wrapping heartbreak in youthful, live-show energy that feels both nostalgic and quietly painful. On “Come Here With Me,” Chloe leans into the temptation of reopening a door that never fully closed. The song centers on reminiscing about a love that once felt safe, wondering if it could ever return to what it was. With lines that offer loyalty and reassurance, the track explores the hope that love doesn’t always end for good, even when it probably should. It’s about believing a second chance is possible, even when memory and reality don’t quite match. “Mad In Love” shifts the tone into something more intense and consuming. The song lives in the space between devotion and emotional dependence, where love becomes the thing that keeps you grounded through mania, sadness, and uncertainty. Chloe sings about imagining a future that never arrived, holding onto someone who makes life feel bearable, and questioning what happens if they’re gone. It’s vulnerable in a way that doesn’t romanticize obsession, but doesn’t deny it either. The aftermath hits on “Two Weeks,” a song that unfolds like a step-by-step guide to surviving a breakup. From sitting alone with old photos to calling friends, swiping for distraction, and trying to move forward before you’re ready, the track captures how hollow healing can feel when you’re forcing it. Chloe frames the song as an attempt at self-discovery, embracing solitude while admitting how lost she feels. Two weeks becomes both a time limit and a breaking point, marking the moment when being alone starts to hurt differently. One of the EP’s most powerful moments arrives with “Dear Dad,” a song that confronts addiction and the damage it leaves behind. Chloe writes about the breakdown of a parental relationship, the exhaustion of broken trust, and the decision to walk away in order to survive. There’s no dramatic confrontation here, just the quiet realization that love can’t exist alongside addiction without consequences. It’s a boundary-setting song, rooted in grief, acceptance, and the creation of a new safe space. The EP closes with “Horoscopes,” a reflective look at ambition, time, and uncertainty. Chloe questions whether the future she wants is already written or still within reach, balancing the reality of working a nine-to-five while dreaming of becoming an artist full-time. The song captures the anxiety of chasing purpose, the comfort of supportive relationships, and the human impulse to search for signs that everything will work out. Looking to the stars becomes a metaphor for hope, doubt, and the fear of running out of time. Dear Love…  doesn’t chase trends or tidy conclusions. It exists in the mess, offering connection instead of resolution. As Chloe shares, “I hope the audience listening to this EP album feels a connection to the songs I’ve written. I choose to share my songs with the world because I think people feel comforted when they can relate to others' life experiences.” That honesty is what makes the EP land. Chloe Mayse isn’t trying to be perfect or aspirational. She’s being real, and right now, that’s exactly what indie pop needs. You frame Dear Love… like a series of journal entries. Was there ever a moment you thought, “This is too personal to release,” and what made you push past that anyway? There have been many times over the years whe n I questioned releasing certain songs, especially a song like "Dear Dad". I have questioned it not because I am afraid to show the vulnerable layers of myself, but more because I don't want the people I write about to feel hurt. I try to push past this fear by reminding myself of why I decided to share my music to the world in the first place. I share my songs because I want to connect with other people who can relate to the music and feel comfort in that. Several songs wrestle with the idea that love can be both grounding and destructive. How do you know when love is helping you survive versus quietly holding you back? This is a great question. During the times of my life that I wrote about, where I was in certain loving romantic relationships, I made the mistake of letting the relationships play out and didn't do any self-reflection until they each ended. I don't regret any relationship I have had, and I have learned so much about myself with each experience. What I have learned is that being in love with someone and having a relationship with them should not feel like it is your sole purpose in life. It is not anyone's responsibility to help you survive the game of life. If any type of relationship feels like it's holding you back or you need that person to stay alive, do some self-reflection exercises and therapy to question why you feel that way. I realized that it was very unhealthy to be thinking this way, and I had to do therapy for many years to develop my self-esteem. “Dear Dad” is one of the most emotionally heavy tracks on the EP. What changed for you after writing that song? Did it bring closure, or just clarity? Writing "Dear Dad" has been the hardest song I have written so far. I cried many times when I thought about what I wanted to say in the lyrics, and I have never played this song on stage because I don't know if I could sing it through without falling apart. I never felt closure after "Dear Dad" was made because this issue between my dad and I is ongoing and I have had to put up boundaries to protect my mental health. I wrote this song when I was very angry with both of my parents, and I have always struggled to have a relationship with my dad. This song allowed me to release some of my anger on the matter of addiction. Now, when I listen to "Dear Da,d" I feel grief and sadness that this is what ended up being the outcome, but I have accepted it.  A lot of this project sits in the uncomfortable in-between: not healed, not broken, just trying. Do you think audiences are finally ready for that kind of honesty, or did you stop caring whether they were? I think listeners always want to hear the honest truth in a song. I didn't ever think about whether they were ready for it or not. All of my music on this EP is written in the light of me trying to overcome a negative experience or feeling because all I can do is try. I have come a long way with working on myself and am very satisfied with the life I have now, but every day I still have to try and stay in a good headspace and be present. You’re honest about the tension between chasing music full-time and living inside a nine-to-five world. What would “success” actually look like for you if no one else got to define it? Success to me is having the opportunity to be a full-time music artist who gets to tour, write songs for other artists, and have my work in television and film projects. Success also includes having the people who mean the most to me along for the journey. I know I can't have everyone that I love on tour with me at all times, but having one or two people who know me best and can help keep me grounded and remind me to enjoy every part of the journey is important.

Let’s not lie, being an artist is exhausting. You’re expected to write, record, create content, stay online, stay inspired, stay consistent, stay booked, stay mentally stable, stay hydrated… It’s ridiculous. Burnout isn’t a maybe; it’s a guarantee if you don’t take care of yourself. So instead of pretending “self-care” is a bubble bath and a good cry (although, honestly, sometimes it is), here are 11 products artists swear by to actually reset their brain, refill their energy, and get back to making the music they love. Blue Light Glasses You stare at screens all day, DAWs, TikTok drafts, endless DMs, late-night mixing sessions. Your eyes are cooked. Blue light glasses help reduce strain, headaches, and that weird zombie feeling you get at 3 a.m. They basically give your brain permission to breathe again. We recommend these blue light glasses . Scented Candles Your studio doesn’t need to smell like lost hopes and stale coffee. A candle instantly resets the mood, softens your nervous system, and makes your creative space feel like somewhere you actually want  to be. Bonus points if it’s lavender, eucalyptus, or “I’m pretending my life is together” vanilla. We recommend these scented candles . Bath Balms Shoulders tense from producing? Jaw locked from anxiety? Back destroyed from sitting for 12 hours tracking vocals you didn’t even keep? CBD balms help your muscles chill out, reduce inflammation, and give your body the reset your mind refuses to take. We recommend these bath bombs . A Writing Journal You have too many ideas, too many emotions, too many goals, too many thoughts you shoved down because you “didn’t have time.” Journaling helps you dump the chaos onto paper so your brain can stop spiraling. It’s therapy without the copay. We recommend this writing journal . Noise-Cancelling Headphones Sometimes burnout hits because you can’t get silence.  Noise-cancelling headphones give you a second of peace, no traffic, no roommates, no chaos, just quiet. Quiet = clarity. We recommend this pair of headphones . Weighted Blanket Weighted blankets trigger deep pressure stimulation, which calms your nervous system and helps you sleep like you’re not in a constant existential crisis. Artists swear by them because rest is the real creative hack. We recommend this weighted blanket . Tea Blends for Stress Chamomile, lemon balm, lavender, the holy trifecta of “please relax my soul.” Tea slows you down, lowers cortisol, and tells your brain it’s time to unplug from the noise. We recommend this tea blend . A Desk Diffuser + Essential Oils Peppermint for focus. Lavender for calm. Citrus for energy. A diffuser turns your studio into a mini spa without you spending $200 on a sound bath ticket in Silver Lake. We recommend this desk infuser + essential oil set . Soft Studio Lighting Bright, overhead lighting is the enemy of inspiration. Soft, warm lamps make your studio feel safe again. Your nervous system will thank you. We recommend this soft lamp . Mini Massage Gun Your hands, wrists, shoulders, and back carry everything, from production work to endless typing to gripping the steering wheel while spiraling. Regular massage? Impossible. Mini devices? Life-changing. We recommend this mini hand massage gun . A Good Quality Water Bottle Half your burnout is dehydration pretending to be existential dread. Getting a bottle with motivational markings or a straw literally tricks your brain into drinking more. Hydration = energy. Energy = creativity. We recommend this water bottle . Burnout doesn’t make you weak; it makes you human. Artists carry more emotional, mental, and creative weight than people realize. Resetting isn’t optional; it’s survival. These tools don’t “fix your life,” but they give your mind and body the space to breathe so you can get back to creating with intention instead of exhaustion.

2025 was the year Giselle fully stepped into her power, not just as a pop/R&B artist, but as a creative force shaping her own world. From upbeat anthems to cinematic indie-pop moments, this year showed the full scope of her artistry. With multiple releases, a new album, community-building projects, and massive personal milestones, Giselle turned 2025 into a year of evolution, expression, and unapologetic self-discovery. She kicked off the year with vibrant singles like “ GAME OVER ,” “ SUNSHINE ,” and “ SCHOOL'S OUT ” showcasing her ability to shift moods and genres with ease. By the time she released her album GISELLE REBORN , it was clear she wasn’t just writing songs; she was piecing together a narrative of transformation. Tracks like “Cruisin’” and “Final Girl” revealed her duality: the playful storyteller, the emotional architect, the pop artist who isn’t afraid to push into rock, R&B, or even horror-inspired themes. Final Girl in particular sparked conversation, flipping the classic trope and asking listeners to rethink who they root for, why, and what survival actually feels like. But the moment that defined her 2025 was the release of “(Haunted By) The Ghost.” A devastatingly vulnerable track, it marked a new height in Giselle’s storytelling. Where her earlier releases shimmered with confidence, this one cracked open the quiet, aching corners of the human experience. She wrote it for the people still carrying emotional residue from past hurt, the memories that linger, the whispers that follow us, the shadows our hearts haven’t outrun yet. With haunting production and vocal delivery that feels like a confession whispered in the dark, the song quickly became one of her most powerful releases to date. It wasn’t just music. It was catharsis. An invitation to cry. A safe room for anyone living with emotional hauntings of their own. Outside the studio, Giselle spent 2025 matching her creative output with real-world impact. She launched Soul Shadows, an immersive Black History Month event merging horror, art, culture, and community, a rare blend only someone with her artistic DNA could pull off. She celebrated one year of her horror pin brand Bloody Hell Pinz, curated multiple events, acted in several indie films, and even got married. It was a year of artistic expansion and personal joy, proving she’s not just building a career; she’s building a life rooted in passion and intention. As she heads into 2026, Giselle’s goals are beautifully simple: keep creating, keep performing, keep loving her family, furry babies included, and keep choosing gratitude. Because if 2025 proved anything, it’s this: Giselle thrives when she leads with heart. And with “(Haunted By) The Ghost” anchoring her most emotionally resonant year yet, she’s only getting started. 2025 felt like a massive era of reinvention for you, musically, personally, and creatively. When you look back at this year as a whole, what chapter do you feel you closed, and what new one do you think you opened?  This year has been such a great year overall. Of course, as with any fellow human, I had a lot of hardships and sad things happen. But overall ,so many positive things that I am grateful for in my personal life, musical life, etc. I really feel like with my music in 2025, I closed the chapter of my life where I was being told who I was as an artist wasn’t “enough” or “wasn’t going to get me anywhere.” I silenced those voices this year and explored all types of possibilities when it comes to creating my music! That is a door I have opened and one I will never close.  Your album Giselle Reborn showed such a wide emotional and sonic range. What part of the album felt like the biggest personal breakthrough for you as an artist? Thank you so much! Honestly? The whole album truly felt like a breakthrough for me. I’d say the final track on the album, “SCHOOL’S OUT,” felt like an intense moment of healing and a breakthrough not only for myself and my healing journey as a person who was bullied growing up, but it was a breakthrough song for me. I connected with new audiences due to this song, and also connected with other people who were also bullied. It felt like this amazing community grew in support, and this song became an anthem for a lot of people to say “F YOU!” to their past and their past bullies. There’s something so magical about that… having your music connect to people and not only telling my own personal story, but a story that many people could connect to and use this song to heal with.  You released several singles this year that each hit different corners of pop, R&B, and rock. What guided your sound this year? Was it experimentation, emotion, or something deeper? Honestly, it was a mix of experimentation, emotion, and something deeper. I’ve always loved experimenting with new sounds for myself, and I love following my emotions when it comes to it. The feelings I have while writing songs or just singing from the top of my head really format how a song will come out and in what style.  On a deeper level, I grew up listening to EVERYTHING. Every single genre. It’s part of who I am. I have a love and respect for so many genres that I don’t want to just center myself in only one genre, but I want to explore and experiment in all of them. Growing up and listening to an array of artists and genres made me who I am today, and I like to honor that. Soul Shadows became a huge moment in the culture this year. What did curating that event teach you about community-building and the intersection between music, art, and horror? Soul Shadows is my baby. A huge pride and joy of mine! Organizing, funding, hosting, and curating this event was so worth it because I got to see the community come together and celebrate. This event takes place in February and celebrates Black horror movies, Black horror directors, Black horror artists, Black horror businesses, and more. It takes place during Black History Month because I felt it was important to have an event like this since we often aren’t celebrated in the Horror genre. Times are changing, though, and we have seen growth in the Horror genre and community, but there still needs to be MORE inclusion and change.  I felt called to create this event to allow for that! To uplift my fellow Black horror fans and to celebrate music, art, culture, and horror all together. There’s so much intersectionality between music, physical art and horror. I’m going to geek out here for a second, so bear with me. The films rely so much on not only good acting and writing but also amazing music. Music that frightens you, scares you, and gives you goosebumps! But also music that calls to you and makes your heart race in a good way. Physical art is also so important for these films. Think of things like marketing, posters, flyers, and ads. Even down to the artwork we see ON the screen or the artwork used to create the Horror character! It all connects and each part is so important. Each part of it brings the community together.  “(Haunted By) The Ghost” is one of your most emotionally raw releases to date. What moment or realization made you feel ready to write a song that vulnerable? Thank you so much. To be fully transparent, there wasn’t really a moment or an ah-ha moment. I was in my music room that day, and it was a pretty stressful day, from what I remember. I decided to turn on my keyboard, grabbed my phone, hit record on my voice memo app, and then played from my heart. I didn’t even know what was going to happen. I literally closed my eyes and allowed myself to play and sing what I felt. That’s how this song came to be. Everything you hear in the track is exactly the same… just of course MORE production! And each part of the song are things I heard while playing it. So for example the song includes a theremin, bells, swooshes, ghost sounds, etc. When my eyes were closed, and I was singing and playing for the first time, I could hear in my head exactly how I wanted the full produced track to sound like. I saw the color schemes for the song along with the music video. I guess you could say somewhere in my mind I was ready for the pain to come out. I must’ve had it locked away and I needed to let it go. I am so glad I did because I am extremely proud of this song and music video. And I know it’s a song that will connect to many people.  This track invites listeners to sit with their pain instead of running from it. What was the hardest part of letting yourself go that deep, and what surprised you the most during the process? Yes, yes it does. As I said in my previous answers, I guess you could say somewhere in my mind I was ready for the pain to come out. I must’ve had it locked away and I needed to let it go. The most surprising thing during this process was how freeing it was to just let it out and while it’s intense and sad in many ways, it was overall a FUN process. That surprised me for sure!  If someone pressed play on “(Haunted By) The Ghost” at a moment when they’re hurting, what do you hope they feel in the first 10 seconds? Wow. This is a great question. I would truly hope within the first 10 seconds they realize they are NOT alone in their pain. I hope the first 10 seconds welcomes them in to listen to the rest of the song and allows them a very good cry session. It’s okay to let things out. I feel like so often we just store our pain away. I hope this song allows people to feel safe to cry and know they are not alone in their battle(s).

Bekka Dowland has always written like someone who’s lived a few lifetimes, honest, grounded, and unafraid to tell the kind of stories country music is built on. But in 2025, she leveled up in a way that actually shows. With more live shows, a sharper vocal tone, and a new sense of discipline born from finishing 75 Hard at the top of the year, Bekka stepped into her artistry with real clarity and confidence. That growth hits hardest on “Be a Little Kinder,” BUZZMUSIC’s pick for Best Releases of 2025. The track distills everything she does well: lived-in storytelling, emotional restraint, and a voice that sounds stronger because it knows exactly what it’s saying. As she works toward her debut album, Bekka is no longer just writing solid songs. She’s building a world people recognize themselves in. Whether she’s unpacking heartbreak, self-worth, resilience, or the messy space in between, her writing lands because it feels familiar in the best way. This year made one thing obvious: Bekka Dowland isn’t circling her potential anymore. She’s standing in it. You started the year with 75 Hard, which is no joke. How did that discipline spill into your creative process, your confidence, or the way you approached making music this year? It really opened my eyes to understanding better that you really can accomplish anything you set your mind to. I’ve found that having a balance between taking care of my mental and physical health, I could intentionally focus more on creating. I feel my confidence is truly at the best it has ever been and I hope to continue growing in the new year.  You’ve played more live shows than ever in 2025. How did being on stage, in front of real people, change the way you see yourself as an artist and as a country storyteller? Performing live has always been one of my favorite things to do. Connecting with people in person is so special. I’ve definitely learned that the higher the energy I bring, the more the crowd engages and sings along, which is such a high. With every performance, I feel that I concentrated more on the emotion of the song I was performing and really tried channeling those feelings for an organic experience.  You’ve been working hard on strengthening your voice for your upcoming album. What has that intentional vocal growth taught you about your sound, and how do you hear the difference when you compare old recordings to where you are now? I find that I have increased in my vocal range, which is something I never thought I’d be able to do. Being able to hit notes that I couldn’t in the past has been a huge reward. Even listening to recordings from one year ago, I can hear a more rich tone in my voice now and it sounds a bit fuller.  With your debut album on the way and dreams of touring next year, what do you feel is shifting inside you creatively? What era do you feel yourself stepping into as you prepare for 2026? I’ve noticed I’m stepping into my most confident and secure era, which is something I’m extremely proud of. My debut album truly focuses on the last decade of my life, navigating through my 20’s, which was a very chaotic time for me. I’m happy to capture this era of my life and send it off into the world for the people who will need it/relate to it. Once it’s complete, I feel I will be finally turning the page of a chapter that helped shape who I am today.  You give great advice about not comparing yourself to other artists. What practice or mindset has helped you protect your own path while navigating an industry that’s constantly pushing comparison? When I find myself starting down the road of comparison, I try to rewire my mind into thinking of the skills I do have versus the ones I don’t. Everyone is good at something and I feel it is very important to find what it is you are good at and run with it. I used to beat myself up for not being able to play crazy guitar riffs, but that just isn’t my strong suit, and that’s okay. My strength is in lyrics and storytelling, which is something I’m proud of. I also find listening to interviews of artists I look up to helps me stay in a positive mindset, given they have been in the industry for many years and have much more insight than I do.

Super Love didn’t just show up in 2025; they rebuilt the foundation beneath their sound and walked into a new era with a vision sharper than ever. The NYC alt-rock duo, formed by Constance Watkins and Jared Watkins, has always thrived in the overlap between genres: the grit of rock, the pulse of hip-hop, the sweetness of pop, the edge of punk, the improvisational DNA of jazz. But this year, something shifted. Super Love didn’t just experiment; they elevated. They defined what “autonomous indie” looks like in real time. Their 2025 release, “Vibes,” captures exactly where they’re standing right now: in that electric space between who they were and who they’re becoming. Not the final chapter, but the moment before the breakthrough, the inhale before the explosion. It’s a song rooted in growth, grit, and instinct, and it reflects the bigger truth about Super Love’s year: this wasn’t a season of noise, chaos, or constant content. It was a season of disappearing into the work. A year of sharpening edges, pushing boundaries, and refusing to let outside voices dictate who they should be. Behind the curtain, Super Love spent 2025 locked in the studio, building something bigger, louder, and more intentional than anything they’ve released before. They didn’t chase trends. They didn’t chase the algorithm. They chased that fire-in-your-chest feeling, the songs that spark movement, crack open emotion, and make you want to turn the volume up all the way. If “Vibes” is the snapshot of this moment, 2026 looks like the year they’re stepping fully into the identity they’ve been sculpting since 2019. Super Love’s story has always been about evolution, trust, and creative fearlessness. And now, standing at the edge of their most ambitious era yet, they aren’t just one of the best acts of 2025, they’re a band proving what happens when you go all-in on your own instincts. Their next chapter isn’t coming quietly. And honestly? We wouldn’t want it any other way. What part of 2025’s behind-the-scenes grind changed the way you approach music forever? Honestly, 2025 lit a fire under us. We spent the year chasing ideas at full volume, writing like we had something wild breathing down our necks. That pressure sharpened us. It turned rough drafts into lightning. Some songs hit so fast they were finished in a day, like they just fell out of the sky and demanded to exist. That pace changed us. It taught us to trust instincts, ride the spark, and catch the song while it’s still burning. “Vibes” feels like a turning-point energy. What shift in your lives sparked this new momentum? Yeah, "Vibes" totally has that energy. We played more, experimented more, and let ourselves get lost in new mixing and recording techniques that opened up whole new sounds for us. "Vibes" is a chill moment in a year of singing at the top of our lungs, and playing in the unknown, looking for just the right sound. A slow glow in the middle of all that fire.  How do you know when a song feels like Super Love and not just another cool experiment? For us, if we love it, it's Super Love. We only put out songs we feel in our bones. We show up with ideas we're already obsessed with, then we run them through our favorite process, which is basically us asking each other, “Is this cool? Do you like this? Are we both feeling it?” When we both get that same spark and know the idea actually has teeth, that is when the song becomes ours. That spark is the whole point. You’ve built a sound that refuses to sit in one box.  What’s the secret to blending genres without losing identity? There is no secret, really. We built genre blending into our identity from day one. We just make what we love instead of trying to squeeze into someone else’s box. If the song feels like us, it is Super Love, no matter what playlist it lands on. What did 2025 teach you about noise, pressure, and tuning into your own voice above everything else? 2025 taught us to chase the absolute best version of a song, then shut up and ship it once it hits that mark. We learned to tune out the noise, the pressure, and the endless second-guessing, and trust our own instincts instead. That is why some tracks were written, recorded, and wrapped in a day. When the song feels true and alive, you hit export and move on. When you think about your 2026 vision, what’s the emotion or intention leading the charge? Our 2026 vision is all about forward motion and refusal to coast. We write and record out of pure love for this, so we don’t really burn out, and we definitely don’t give up. Every track has to be something we’d blast in the car with the windows down, not just “good enough to send off.” If it doesn’t rock and feel undeniable, it doesn’t leave the studio. If you could tell your 2019 selves one thing about where you are now, what would it be? I’d tell our 2019 selves, “Do it for love. It is worth it. You’re doing it right.” All the late nights, weird gigs, and risky choices you are stressing over now are exactly what carry you to this version of Super Love.

Two decades deep into a career that shaped emo and alt-rock, Mayday Parade are far from slowing down. The Tallahassee legends just announced Sad , the second installment of their 20th anniversary album trilogy, arriving October 3. Leading the charge is their new single “ Under My Sweater ,” a nostalgic yet forward-looking track that tips its hat to Weezer while carving out Mayday Parade’s own emotional lane. “It’s difficult to sing about a sweater without invoking Weezer, but that’s part of what I love about this song,” says Sanders. “‘Under My Sweater’ wears its inspirations on its sleeve and feels both a part of old school nostalgic emo as well as something modern and a step forward for Mayday Parade.” Where Sweet brought euphoric anthems, Sad leans into atmosphere, mood, and vulnerability. Tracks like “Promises” and “One Day At A Time” slow the tempo, while the expansive closer “I Must Obey The Inscrutable Exhortations Of My Soul” pushes the band into daring new territory. Produced by longtime collaborators Zack Odom and Kenneth Mount, Sad continues the band’s self-released era, fueled by creative freedom and a direct connection with fans. Following a sold-out anniversary tour and a Warped Tour main-stage return, Mayday Parade proves they’re still writing their legacy on their own terms. Stream “Under My Sweater” now and catch them on tour with All Time Low and at When We Were Young this fall. How does  Sad  reflect where Mayday Parade are creatively at 20 years in? I would say we've always tried to just write what comes out naturally. Since we all live in different states, we normally work on our demos independently of each other. I find it's rare to have a band where everyone writes, and it makes for a very eclectic album since our personal music tastes are all slightly different. I would like to think we have grown as musicians and songwriters. "Under My Sweater" has nostalgic vibes; what inspired this track? I think the idea was things slipping away that are out of your control, and how, in those uncertain moments when things are out of control, you can feel your heart racing in your chest. This is the impression I get from it anyway, Derek wrote this particular song, and I don't have all the details lol. What was different about creating  Sad  compared to  Sweet ? Truthfully, not too much other than the time between releases. For this three-part album, we've just been going back and forth from tour to the studio to a little time at home to work on music, rinse and repeat. We are recording with the same producers, Zack Odom and Kenneth Mount, out of Atlanta, and we've worked with them for the majority of our career. Everything just feels comfortable and fluid, so I don't personally feel like anything was different in the creation process at all, really.  How has going independent changed your approach to making music? You always have more freedom to be creative when you're independent, but you also bear all the weight of that when things don't work out. Truthfully, though, after our second album, we've said we would never allow a label to control our creative process ever again, and that has been true. We've been lucky that we've been allowed full control of our music for a long time now, even under previous labels.  Looking back at Warped Tour and your anniversary tour, what moments stood out to you? Man, I truly miss Warped Tour. It's great that they have come back to a degree, but people will never really understand what they missed unless they experienced it firsthand. We were lucky to have played it so many times. I'm thinking we did seven years of Warped Tour? Honestly, it's hard to recall. There isn't a particular moment that stands out, just the overall vibe of everyone working together for the same goal.  Our anniversary tour was a blast. I loved all the bands and felt like it was such an easy tour. I think my favorite moment is when we had a day off before our last show, and we had all the bands come to a bar that a friend owned and reserved for us, and we just played games, drank, and chit-chatted from the afternoon until bus call. It was just a nice way to end the tour, and a last hurrah for everyone on the tour.

Let’s not lie to ourselves: the music industry is being run by algorithms that care more about “finish rates” than feelings. Your favorite songs are now data points, your attention span is a commodity, and half the “music discovery” content online is written by AI that’s never been to a show, never cried over a bridge, never felt a bassline shake their bones. So yeah, music journalism still matters, maybe more than ever, because someone needs to tell the truth about what’s actually happening to art while everyone else is pretending the system is working. Algorithms don’t love music. People do. The For You Page doesn’t care  that a song saved your life. Spotify doesn’t feel  chills when a vocalist cuts through the noise and hits that one note that ruins your entire day in the best way. Data can track streams, but it can’t translate impact. Music journalism isn’t just reporting; it’s remembering that music is more than consumable sound. It’s culture, identity, rebellion, healing. When you lose the storytellers, you lose the meaning. Without real journalists, the industry gets away with murder (sometimes literally). The music world has always had shadows, exploitative contracts, stolen credits, predatory behavior, and labels playing God with artists’ careers. You think the algorithm is going to investigate that? Platforms benefit from silence. Writers, critics, and independent publications are often the only reason corruption even gets exposed. When we stop asking uncomfortable questions, powerful people stop being held accountable. And trust, some of them are counting on that. Fans deserve better than recycled press releases. We’re drowning in content that says absolutely nothing. “Rising artist.” “Genre-bending.” “Pushes boundaries.” That’s copy-and-paste PR language disguised as journalism, and it’s insulting. Music journalism should explain why  a song hits, how  an artist is evolving, and what  their work means in a larger cultural moment. Otherwise, it’s just unpaid marketing. Artists need someone in their corner who isn’t trying to own them. Labels want profit. Platforms want engagement. Publicists want narratives that won’t make anyone uncomfortable. Journalists? The good ones? They want the truth. They want context. They want to amplify voices that the industry ignores. Independent artists especially depend on publications willing to take risks and spotlight them before a playlist decides they’re worth something. Music is not just a product, and we refuse to treat it like one. If culture is going to survive, we need people who can listen deeply and write honestly. We need music journalists who know when a song is a turning point, not just a trending sound. We need critics who are annoying, obsessive, emotional, and impossible to buy. Because music journalism isn’t about nostalgia, it’s about resistance. If we let algorithms tell the story, we will eventually forget we ever had one. At the end of the day, music journalism isn’t here to please algorithms or stroke industry egos. It’s here to protect the parts of music that can’t be quantified, the stories, the subcultures, the weirdos, the breakthroughs, the voices that refuse to die quietly. As long as artists keep creating from the gut, we’ll keep writing from the same place if the machines want to compete with that, good luck.

Pop-punk has always belonged to the outsiders, the storytellers, the over-feelers, the kids who turned their heartbreak and chaos into something loud enough to drown out doubt. Chelsea Lyn Meyer fits right into that lineage, but she’s building her own lane inside it. The Macungie, PA artist has been carrying the spirit of the early-2000s scene for years: catchy hooks, sharp storytelling, and a live-show energy that makes you want to scream the lyrics from the pit. But she’s also pushing the genre forward, blending nostalgia with a modern point of view and an unapologetic honesty that hits different in 2025. Chelsea’s roots go deep, from her pop-punk beginnings in 2AM, to winning awards, landing radio rotation, and opening for Capitol Records artists. Those early days shaped her belief in writing songs that actually say something. After 2AM disbanded, her solo era took off with tracks like “Between the Lies,” “Remember,” and “This One’s On You,” earning praise from outlets like A&R Factory, who called her a “pop-punk pioneer” and recognized her as an artist reinventing the genre with powerful vocals and sharp emotion. But 2025 marked one of her most important years yet. It brought the release of her first EP, a project that introduced TEASE as its title track, a fast, fun, addictive pop-punk anthem that captures the thrill of wanting someone so much it drives you insane… in the best way. More importantly, it’s the first song where Chelsea openly uses “she” to express her attraction, a milestone for her personally and creatively as an LGBTQ artist. The song isn’t just catchy; it’s freeing. It’s honest. It’s her stepping fully into who she is, with no filter and no hesitation. She doubled down on her momentum later that year with her pop-punk spin on Chappell Roan’s “Red Wine Supernova,” flipping one of the most iconic queer pop songs of the year into something grittier, punchier, and distinctly Chelsea-coded. Between that, her WFMZ feature, the Gritty In Pink Vans Warped Warm Up Tour, and her 2026 writing sessions, Chelsea spent the year growing her artistry in every direction, on stage, in the studio, and within herself. Now, heading into a new year, she’s driven by simple goals: more stages, more music, more community. And she’s carrying one message for fellow artists, don’t quit, no matter how loud the doubt gets. Keep writing, keep showing up, and keep being your truest, rawest, most honest self. TEASE is the release you chose for our Best Independent Artists of 2025 list, a fun, bold, pop-punk song that’s also the first time you openly use “she” in your lyrics. What did that moment of honesty feel like for you, creatively and personally? I remember the moment I had finished writing the lyrics and was considering changing all of the “she” pronouns used for the subject of the song, to “you” or “they.” It really is something so small but it means a lot because it was me choosing to be my authentic self as an artist. It felt powerful to be able to represent myself truthfully as an lgbtq+ artist and be another voice in the community. There’s something so freeing about saying “f*** it” and just being unapologetically you. You’ve been reinventing pop-punk for years, pulling from early-2000s nostalgia but giving it a modern edge. What part of the pop-punk era do you still carry with you when you write, and what part of yourself shows up in the new wave of the genre? I tend to write in more upbeat melodies and chord progressions while the subject matter isn’t always happy. I think my influence from early 2000’s pop punk contributes to that a lot, as well as my writing style. I think the way I write my lyrics is in a newer style. Starting in band 2 AM was your introduction to writing and storytelling. Looking back now, how did those early years shape your voice, confidence, and approach as a solo artist? 2AM was a band started by me and some of my best friends. Having that encouragement and support from some of my closest friends to try writing songs and being the lead singer, I think really built my confidence as a song writer and performer. Being in 2AM with people who built me up and gave me such a judgement free space to find my voice both in song writing and vocally, gave me the courage to continue creating and performing once 2AM disbanded. Your EP dropped in March, and later in the year, you released your version of “Red Wine Supernova.” Why did that Chappell Roan cover feel like the right song to reinterpret, and what did you want to bring to it that was uniquely you? Chappell Roan is a brilliant songwriter, so once I started listen to her, I KNEW I wanted to cover one of her songs. It was HARD to pick just one because she has so many hits in her catalog. I chose Red Wine Supernova because I felt like I could relate to the lyrics and I hadn’t heard many covers of the song yet. I really wanted to do a pop/punk cover of the song while still kinda staying true to the pop sound in the original. It was so much fun to record this version too because of all the backing vocals and little call/answer lines in the song. You’ve had radio success, press recognition, and even been called a “pop-punk pioneer.” How do you stay grounded through the highs while still pushing yourself into new creative territory? I try to stay focused on growing rather than comparing myself to past wins. Every song or project feels like a chance to do something new or different and push my comfort zone a little bit further each time. I’m always trying my best to look ahead and stay connected with the friends I make along the way. I also jump at any opportunity to share a room/stage with people who I can learn from and who challenge me creatively . From performing on WFMZ to hitting the Gritty In Pink Vans Warped Warm Up Tour, 2025 brought a lot of stages your way. Which performance this year changed you the most as an artist? By far getting to share the stage with the Gritty in Pink crew. Every musician that was a part of that tour was so talented but also SO humble and welcoming. SHIRAGIRL founded Gritty in Pink and I followed both her and Gritty for a while. Getting to meet her and share a stage with her was something that I didn’t ever think I would have the opportunity to do. Gritty in Pink focuses on empowering women and gender equality, especially in the music world. Being on stage rocking out with so many talented women, some of whom I already looked up to, was such a push for me to keep doing what I’m doing and being my authentic self. If I can give to one person what the Gritty gang gave to me, I’m happy. Heading into 2026 with new music on the way, what shifts do you feel happening in your sound, your confidence, or your vision for who you’re becoming? Heading into 2026 I’m so motivated musically to write more music and tell so many more stories. I hear a shift in my sound and feel it becoming more mine with every song I write. I feel like I have a lot to say that in the past has gone unsaid for fear of what other people may think. I’m ready to tell my stories and hope that they connect with someone else who listens.

Jazz has always been a language of truth, the kind that doesn’t hide behind perfection or polish but leans into vulnerability, spontaneity, and raw humanity. Minneapolis-based guitarist and composer Cody Steinmann understands this deeply. Known for his genre-bending approach, blistering technique, and emotionally charged improvisation, he’s become one of the defining creative voices in the region’s contemporary jazz scene. His work moves between tradition and boundary-pushing experimentation, drawing on influences that stretch across jazz, metal, blues, hip-hop, and modern classical sensibilities. 2025 pushed Steinmann into a new chapter, one shaped not by musical ambition, but by a moment that could have taken everything from him. Stray Bullet Blues , the release chosen for BUZZMUSIC’s Best Independent Artists of 2025, was born from a harrowing experience: on October 7, 2023, a stray bullet shattered the window of Cody’s home, turning a place of safety into a moment of shock and existential clarity. The event left no physical wounds, but its emotional aftershocks were immense. A reminder of how fragile life is, and how quickly everything can change. Instead of burying the experience, Cody transformed it. What emerged is one of his most powerful, introspective works to date, a fiery blend of jazz, blues, rock, metal, and improvisational intensity. Recorded in a single six-hour session, Stray Bullet Blues feels urgent, alive, and honest. Every note carries the weight of vulnerability and the determination to reclaim the narrative, turning chaos into expression, fear into reflection, and uncertainty into art. Steinmann’s liner notes describe the album as “a musical expression of a harrowing personal experience… not simply a recounting of trauma, but a reclaiming of it.” And that’s exactly what the record achieves. It’s not about shock value. It’s about empathy — for ourselves, for the people around us, and for anyone living in a reality where safety isn’t always guaranteed. Outside of the studio, 2025 saw Cody expanding his impact as both a performer and educator. He toured more extensively with his trio, poured himself into teaching, and worked toward finding balance, carving out time for rest, loved ones, and grounding his craft. His approach to music is inseparable from his approach to life: honest, focused, and committed to growth. Looking ahead to 2026, Steinmann is driven by intention. He’s set on finishing two albums he’s producing, recording a new trio project, and continuing his mission of spreading knowledge and building community through music. His advice for fellow artists mirrors the ethos behind Stray Bullet Blues : invest in yourself, love yourself, stay brutally honest, but hold that honesty with grace. Growth matters more than perfection. Focus matters more than fear. Stray Bullet Blues emerged from a real moment of danger, shock, and emotional upheaval. When you look back at the day that the bullet entered your home, what part of that experience shaped the core of this album the most? I feel like my initial reaction, my girlfriend's initial reaction, the sound of the bullet blowing through the home, and the perspective that arose months later really shaped the core of this album. It was an experience I’ll never forget, and I wish it upon no one. I feel blessed to be alive; it could have been much worse. You recorded the entire project in a single six-hour session,  a rare feat in modern jazz. How did the intensity of that day shape the performances, the improvisation, and the emotional urgency captured on the record? Well, I think we all knew what happened. Everyone in the band had been to my place and seen the holes in my window and walls; some of them saw all the glass dust the bullet spread through the home. I think it was clear to everyone what the energy of this album would be. We also only had one day to record, so we had no choice but to get it done. Some took a little longer than others. But most are the 1st or 2nd takes. You’ve talked about wanting listeners to take away empathy, for themselves, for others, for different perspectives and traditions. What role do you think empathy plays in jazz composition and improvisation? I think empathy can play a huge role in jazz composition and improvisation. Everyone has their own motives and intentions behind making music, not always being empathy. But I know a lot of my favorite artists, at some point, came to a place where they wanted to foster a connection between people through their music. To do that, it requires a lot of empathy. At the most basic level, I would even argue that it takes a certain kind of empathy for your bandmates to play this music well. Your work blends jazz, blues, rock, and metal with improvisational fire. How do you navigate those influences without losing the emotional clarity of your message? Well, I never really saw any of these music styles as separate from each other. They’re all under the umbrella of Black American Music as far as I see it. Rock and Metal have a particular edge, but their roots are in the blues. To me, genres are like kinds of food. I don’t eat burgers every day, for every meal. There might be some foods I eat every day, but I’m definitely mixing it up where I can. So why would I only listen to one genre of music? I believe in the study of music; it’s part of the craft. But that’s a different mindset than purely listening to music for enjoyment. Teaching has become a major part of your life in 2025. How has sharing your musical knowledge with students influenced your own artistic growth or reshaped the way you think about your instrument? In so many ways. Teaching teaches me. It teaches me empathy and different perspectives. It teaches me to let go of my own needs and be present with someone else and their needs. Some students have put me on to new music. Other students have things they want to explore, and I find myself having fun exploring things with them. Overall, teaching has helped me understand music more deeply. You mentioned that this was one of the most stressful periods of your life, both good stress and bad. How did the chaos around you impact your creativity, discipline, and relationship to your craft? Well, it just felt kind of surreal, dealing with the PTSD, while making the record, and dealing with people and their attitudes was crazy. I found myself having to really decide what I want and why. I think I learned just how strong I actually am through this whole process. There were a lot of distractions, but I feel the event propelled me into laser focus. My relationship to the craft has always been deeply personal and emotionally driven. This whole experience taught me to double down on that. Heading into 2026 with plans for new trio recordings and two albums in production, what creative shift or perspective are you bringing into this next era that you didn’t have a year ago? My perspective now is, just do it. Make it happen, find a way, even if you fail thousands of times. Just keep going. The newly produced records expand on my previous ones, but with the next trio of records, I plan to do something a little different. Same energy, but the vision going into it is much clearer. I like to be surprised and will always leave room in my work for it. But I have a clearer vision of this upcoming trio record than I have of previous ones.