“Salmon Creek Run” - Clarelynn Rose
Clarelynn Rose’s new single “Salmon Creek Run” is one of those rare instrumental pieces that feels less like a song and more like a breath — slow, steady, and grounding in all the right ways. Rose has always had a gift for fingerstyle guitar that carries emotional weight without ever raising its voice, but this track pushes her craft into an even more intimate, spacious place.
“Modern Mythologies” - David Keenan
With Modern Mythologies, David Keenan doesn’t just return — he detonates. He opens his chest cavity, shakes out the ghosts, burns the old stories and rewrites them in real time. The album, arriving 21 November 2025, is a sprawling, intimate tapestry of memories, myth-making and survival. It’s Keenan at his most exposed and his most expansive: a poet documenting the messy miracle of being alive.
“Another Dream” - OGGY
With “Another Dream,” London-based singer-songwriter OGGY (Olga Savic) delivers her most compelling work yet — a cinematic pop-rock confessional that feels both intensely personal and universally resonant. It’s a song built on the contradictions of love: hope and heartbreak, longing and clarity.
“On a Prayer with a Broken Wing” - True North
True North’s second single, “On a Prayer with a Broken Wing,” arrives like a burst of golden light after a storm — a joyful, soulful, horn-soaked celebration that stands in electrifying contrast to the brooding tension of their debut, “No Exit Wound.”
“Mid-Night Moves” - Tom Wills x Sholz-Y
From the first beat, “Mid-Night Moves” feels like stepping into a neon-lit rush — that perfect, electric moment on the dance floor when sound and sensation blur together. Tom Wills and Sholz-Y have crafted something that’s both immediate and immersive: a late-night anthem that doesn’t just make you move, it makes you feel seen.
“Songs from the 8th Dimension” - Peter Lord
With Songs From The 8th Dimension, Peter Lord doesn’t simply return — he ascends. The visionary founder of The Family Stand arrives not as a legacy act reviving past glories, but as a creator operating on a new wavelength entirely.
“Sorry, Can't” - Coral Z
“Sorry, Can’t” is the kind of song that doesn’t ask permission to be heard—it presses on the bruise and holds your gaze while it does. Coral Z turns deeply personal history into something sharp, melodic, and uncomfortably relatable, threading alt-rock guitars and indie-pop clarity through a story that feels both intimate and universally painful.
“Echoes: The Final Chapter” - Bullet To The Heart
“Echoes: The Final Chapter” is the last word—and Bullet To The Heart make sure you feel every syllable of it. This is not a farewell whispered. It is a door closing with weight. A flame going out only after it’s burned through everything in its path.
“Flamingo Road” - Blake
With Flamingo Road, Blake steps fully into the singer-songwriter role he’s been orbiting for years—the sort of self-contained creator who uses melody as memory, and lyric as confession. Recorded entirely at home and performed solely by Blake himself, this album has the unmistakable imprint of someone who refused to wait for permission, budget, or perfect conditions to make the record that needed to be made.
“Moss EP” - MOSS
Moss arrive with a sound that feels both familiar and quietly transgressive—like something lost in the haze of the late ’90s Bristol scene, unearthed, run through a dream filter, and resurrected with modern sensitivity. The North of England duo have carved out a distinct identity with startling speed, rooted in trip hop atmosphere, cinematic slow-burn tension, and lyrics that cut like whispers spoken directly into your ear.
“Slowly” - Kaleb Hikele
There are songs that feel written to impress, and there are songs written because they needed to exist. Kaleb Hikele’s “Slowly” is very clearly the latter — an intimate, intentional, and deeply human piece that functions both as a love song and as a personal timestamp in the artist’s life.
“Son of Sam I Am (Tommy's Version)” - Too Much Joy
There are reissues, and then there are resurrections. Son of Sam I Am (Tommy’s Version) is the latter: not just a re-release, but a reclamation—an album finally returned to the hands of the people who made it, raised it, toured it, bled for it, and survived it. In 1989, Too Much Joy were the smartass indie-rock kids who managed to be sarcastic without being cynical, heartfelt without being confessional, and musically sharp without losing the charming chaos that made them feel human.