> Paperback: New Rock – feature updates every Wednesday
listen to the article
Swamp Music Players – Run With Us
Swamp Music Players Rewire A Canadian Nostalgia Anthem With Detroit Grit
Swamp Music Players take “Run With Us” and drag it through a darker alley, where neon still glows but the pavement is wet and cracked. Their reimagining of the beloved Canadian closing theme keeps the original’s pop instinct intact, then folds in heavy guitar, cold synths, and the kind of bruised atmosphere that recalls ’80s Toronto at its most restless. It’s nostalgic, sure, but never polite about it.
Hilary Beckett’s vocal lands with a lived-in shimmer, while Evert’s production and Steve Greene’s Detroit synth work give the track a grainy, cinematic pulse. The result feels less like a tribute and more like a transmission—one that honors a cherished CanCon artifact while pushing it beyond the borders of memory. For a collective that thrives on retro futuristic Swamp Rock, Swamp Blues and Cosmic Americana, “Run With Us” is both a deep cut and a calling card.
Arn-Identified Flying Objects and Alien Friends – Happy People Won’t Hear (Album Version)
Arn-Identified Flying Objects And Alien Friends Rework A Pop Gem With Sharper Light
Arn-Identified Flying Objects and Alien Friends return to “Happy People Won’t Hear” with the kind of subtle revision that can change everything. The new album version trims and brightens the edges: vocals are re-recorded, the mix is opened up, and the remaster gives the song a cleaner, more immediate pulse. Co-produced by David Myhr of the Merrymakers, it folds in Beach Boys-style harmonies, a sly piano coda, and Andreas Quincy Dahlbäck’s steady drums, letting the track breathe like classic power pop with a Scandinavian tilt.
For AliEN FRIEND, the solo alias of a former Redmoon guitarist and singer, the song sits right in his lane: melodic, reflective, and a little haunted, but never stuck in nostalgia. It’s the sound of a songwriter refining the frame rather than repainting the whole picture.
Mad Painter – Island Poetry
Mad Painter Turn Hammond Fire Into A Full-Band Album Statement
Mad Painter treat 1970s rock less like costume than a working language, and “Spin Your Ventilator” offers an early glimpse of where Island Poetry is heading. Due October 1, 2026, the album finds Alex Gitlin and company building around roaring Hammond organ, hard guitar, muscular rhythm and harmonies that lean theatrical without losing their grit. Deep Purple muscle, Uriah Heep drama and flashes of early Queen all sit within warm, analogue-style production that leaves room for the band to breathe.
The wider record promises considerable range. “Debt Collector” and “Suit of Worries” carry Purple-sized heft, while “Empty Bottles” leans into Status Quo boogie and “Stand Your Ground” pushes toward Motörhead bite. Twin-guitar shimmer, space-disco turns and classic-rock grandeur broaden the frame, positioning Island Poetry as Mad Painter’s most expansive statement to date.
The Big East – Shiny Satellites
The Big East Cast Stargazing as a Neon-Hearted Anthem
The Big East knows how to make nostalgia hit like a flare gun. On “Shiny Satellites,” James Jones folds his cottage-rock roots into a rush of synthpop and pop-rock momentum, turning a childhood memory of watching the sky into something built for open roads and crowded fields. The beat drives like a rocket ride; the hooks sparkle, then lock into a chant that feels made for a crowd to shout back.
What gives the track its gravity is the tension between intimacy and scale: a blanket in the backyard, then suddenly a chorus that swells like the horizon opening up. Jones’ cinematic touch is all over it, but so is a clear sense of control — bright bassline, shimmering textures, and a melody that lingers after the last lift-off. As he puts it, “Gravity’s a bitch, but it’s on our side.”
Laji George – This is my World
Laji George Gives Private Doubt a Wide-Open Rock Frame
Laji George’s “This Is My World” lands like a hand to the chest: quiet at first, then suddenly vast. Built from phone-recorded voice memos and shaped with Jonah Brockman, the single moves from a stripped-back verse into a sweeping alt-rock surge, where 90s grit meets the melodic lift of classic songcraft. The result feels less polished than lived-in, with every vocal crack and guitar swell left to breathe.
Coming off the festival-scale force of Pseutopia, George uses his solo debut to pull inward without losing voltage. The lyric about skies turning to stone becomes a hard-won meditation on resilience, and the Brooklyn-shot video mirrors that tension with stark, human detail. As George puts it, “Music, at its very core, is a healer and a unifier.” Here, that belief burns through every bar.
If you would like to submit your music for playlist or feature consideration, please submit here via our partnership with MusoSoup.
