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The Librarian Sisters – Sorrow
The Librarian Sisters Turns Grief Into Gothic Voltage
The Librarian Sisters’ “Sorrow” arrives like a storm front rolling through a neon-lit crypt: bassline first, then those shiny synths, all misted in reverb until the edges blur and the feeling lands somewhere between dread and catharsis. Owen-von-Korg, the Accrington-based artist behind the project, draws from 80s post-punk and gothic music, but the result feels firmly of the moment — a darkwave pulse that’s tactile, haunted, and unafraid of beauty.
Written out of grief and loss, “Sorrow” doesn’t wallow so much as it reaches for shape inside the mess. The home-studio recording, made during a spring storm, gives the track a charged, intimate glow, while the hardware-only process — Roland MV-1, TR-8S, no DAW — keeps every layer physical and immediate. It’s music that treats synthesis like brushwork, building a gallery of fading glory, mortality, and historical echoes.
Hxoro – Hello
Hxoro Turns A Found Word Into A Shared Language
Hxoro arrives like a message passed hand to hand: intimate, slightly weathered, and impossible to fake. Born from a found copy of Psychology in Bushwick, the project takes its name from a moment when children first offer objects to strangers, testing connection before they even know the rules. That idea runs through Hello, where alt-pop hooks, lo-fi grain, and sync-ready polish sit beside the human touch of minimal equipment and performances played “like mama used to do.”
What makes it land is the honesty in the method. Nothing feels overbuilt; the songs lean on instinct, texture, and a songwriter’s ear for the kind of melody that reaches before it explains itself. Hxoro isn’t chasing gloss so much as contact, turning small gestures into something communal. It’s music that feels handmade in the best sense: direct, tactile, and quietly magnetic.
Ghost Moon Echo – Black Is the New Black
Ghost Moon Echo Channels Indie-Rock Memory Into Muscle
Ghost Moon Echo sound like a band that remembers exactly why indie-rock mattered in the first place: the clipped guitar shimmer of the ’80s, the bruised melodic sense of the ’90s, and the feeling that a song can still hit like a live wire. On “Black Is the New Black,” singer-guitarist Warner Poland writes and produces with a steady hand, letting the arrangement breathe while the band locks into a taut, unshowy pulse. Marcellus Puhlemann, Steven Ney, and Moritz von Herder give the track its backbone, all snap and forward motion, while the hooks arrive with the kind of confidence that doesn’t need to announce itself.
With roots in Nina Hagen’s orbit and a fully independent spirit, Ghost Moon Echo make music that feels self-possessed, road-ready, and built for rooms where the guitars still matter.
50mething – O oh it’s AI
50mething Pushes Back Against AI Anxiety With A Sharp, Homegrown Protest Song
50mething’s “O oh it’s AI” lands like a wry alarm bell, built in isolation but aimed squarely at the noise outside. The Ealing solo artist, guided by Prince in the background and instinct at the front, folds lived experience into a track that questions the rush of artificial intelligence without pretending the machine age is simple. There’s a clear-eyed bite here: jobs erased, power shifting, and the darker ways technology can be used to compromise women and children.
Working alone at home, 50mething keeps the edges personal and unpolished in the best sense, letting age, judgment and unease shape the frame. It’s protest music with a late-life steadiness, less sermon than warning. In a field crowded with novelty, “O oh it’s AI” feels pointed because it refuses to look away.
YAKOVELLI – Since Emilia
YACOVELLI Recasts Grunge Memory As A Transatlantic Rush
YACOVELLI’s “Since Emilia” lands like a half-buried memory kicked up through distortion: all Bowery sneer, Seattle weight, and a sly melodic pull that keeps slipping out of reach. Frontman Alex Yacovelli leans into the track’s DIY grit, opening with a Baglama line before the song drops into a bruising Drop D-flat riff that feels both ancient and electric. It’s the kind of cut that knows its lineage — The Beatles, Soundgarden, Slash — but still sounds like it was dragged out of a downtown basement at full volume.
The video stretches that restless energy across the Atlantic, folding live-action and AI imagery into a feverish run from Liverpool to the Upper West Side. Yacovelli calls it “a poetic riddle for listeners to unravel,” and that’s exactly the right frame: mysterious, muscular, and built to hit hard.
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