Browsing Tag

Alt Folk

Brooke Hall Sent Sepia-Soaked Longing through the Indie Americana Warmth of ‘Waiting’

The indie-folk warmth of Brooke Hall’s single, Waiting, is a temperature made for fans of Bonny Light Horseman, Hiss Golden Messenger and Big Thief. The indie Americana harmonic drifts are the epitome of swoon-worthy, matching the magnetic mesmerism of the vocals, which deserve to put Brooke Hall in the same league as Stevie Nicks; she’s got that organic depth to her vocal timbre that instantly makes her a confidant at first acquaintance. In a vapid world, Brooke Hall’s timeless sepia-soaked sound is the oceanic antidote to superficiality.

The melodies seem to catch in your throat as your soul is scintillated by the longing in the reflective release, which exposes how much of life is spent in a state of stasis, yearning for something to add colour to our worlds.

Brooke Hall, a singer-songwriter rooted in Louisville, Kentucky and Southern Indiana, spent years behind the drum kit before stepping forward with her own material, and that sense of restraint serves the release well. Waiting marks her first fully produced single, and it may seem like she left no room for improvement, but we’d put money on her surprising us with her sophomore release.

That ability to hold space inside uncertainty gives Waiting its staying power. It’s the perfect aural elixir for anyone who has ever sat in the in-between, hoping life would shift shape before the lights went out.

Waiting is now available on all major streaming platforms, including Spotify.

Review by Amelia Vandergast

 Manchester’s Mat Thorpe Confronts Widespread Malaise in the Sermonic Dark-Folk Reckoning of ‘Jaded’

Mat Thorpe

As a fledgling goth coming of age in Manchester, fellow native Mat Thorpe appeared more as a monolith than a cornerstone in the city’s scene. His presence behind the decks at goth nights and his performances with The March Violets and Isolation/Division kept the alternative undercurrent vital, alive, and reverent to Manchester’s post-punk legacy. That lineage runs deep, and now, writing and performing under his own name as a solo dark-folk spectre on the airwaves, Thorpe is summoning sermonic atmospheres entrenched with ritualistic energy and iconography.

His seminal piece, Jaded, stands as a hymnal intersection between post-punk influence and pagan folklore. The track addresses widespread malaise through vivid imagery that flashes past you while you are harbingered away from letting apathy swallow you whole. There is something almost liturgical in the pacing as the instrumentation draws from traditional folk textures while allowing cinematic shadows to gather at the edges, reflecting both Manchester’s industrial ghosts and Thorpe’s own lived past.

The final crescendo is the epitome of an aural reckoning. That symphonic visualisation of overcoming adversity to find the light lands as a broadsiding cinematic touch, promising far more as Thorpe continues to explore his talent in uncharted territory. For those who hold New Model Army close to the soul and playlists alike, Jaded feels like an ethereal awakening rooted in grounded conviction.

Jaded is now available on all major streaming platforms, including Bandcamp. 

Review by Amelia Vandergast

 

Drew David – Freedom: A Mystically Tribal Protest Sermon Dragged from the Swamp of American Turmoil

Drew David

Deliciously swampy, mystically tribal protest singles don’t come around too often, making Drew David’s latest single, Freedom, a necessary remedy to the exhaustion, anger and anxiety of watching America slip ever further from sanity.

Drew David used every morsel of his savant-esque talent to lead an insurgency against the atrocities spilling from red, white and blue political tyranny. With no names mentioned, you know exactly who was locked in lyrical target through the visceralism in verses, which uses country folk storytelling to unfold the tale of how freedom died in America and exposed its ambivalence to spilling blood across continents.

The way the release soulfully rallies anger towards the inhumanity while choosing poetry over specificity makes the single even more powerful. As the harmonies leave a trail of emotion behind them and the constant rhythmic gravity draws you deeper into the reverberant baritone guitars, Drew David conjured something hypnotically potent with this seminal release. If the lore in Sinners found its way into this reality, Drew David would summon his fair share of demonic souls.

Can we please protect him from MAGA at all costs?

Freedom is now available on all major streaming platforms. Find your preferred way to listen via the artist’s website & connect via Instagram and Facebook. 

Review by Amelia Vandergast

Slow Creatures carried resilience and ruin through the panoramic sorrow of ‘When the Levee Breaks’

In their latest single, When the Levee Breaks, Slow Creatures let folk strings meet honkytonk timbre as the melancholy in their vocal vibrato amplifies the emotion in their tentative melodies, which are enough to make macramé out of your heartstrings. As a parable of the limits of resilience, of how there are only so many proverbial downfalls/downpours we can withstand before we drown, When the Levee Breaks is an achingly affecting release, one shaped to stay with you long after the final cadence settles.

The distorted guitar brings a dusky shade of Southern Gothic folk into the frame, allowing space to meditate on the pain carried through the poetic confessionals that preceded the middle-eight-esque aural curveball. That moment alone assures that from there on out, you’ll never put Slow Creatures in a box or view them as simply pastiche. Their layered harmonies are enough to die for, their instinct for pulling an Emerald Isle breeze through their panoramas feels entirely earned, and they prove that the art of traditional folk songcrafting is by no means lost. There is sincerity, sorrow and steadiness breathing through each shift in tone.

Formed in East Clare in 2024 by Rowan Noonan Ganley and Fiontán Cahill, the collective grew from years of collaboration, expanding into a full outfit with Cian Cahill on bass and harmonies, plus a rotating cast of musicians for live performances. Their honest vocal performances and emotive writing have already drawn considerable praise, supported by BBC Introducing and a run of shows across Ireland. With their debut EP and a string of festival appearances set for 2026, they are firmly establishing themselves as a group whose devotion to storytelling and song-shaping deserves close attention.

When the Levee Breaks is now available on all major streaming platforms, including Spotify.

Review by Amelia Vandergast

Powers of the Monk turned psychedelic eccentricity into ethereal catharsis in Sleepy Fields

Through melodies that feel like they brush across your skin before settling soporific sublimity into your soul, Sleepy Fields by Powers of the Monk simultaneously unfurls as a folk lullaby and an invitation to awakening — the kind that opens your eyes to the simple beauty of the world through vivid lyrical imagery, filtered through the band’s psychedelically sweet lens. There’s a rare gentleness to how they balance light and quirk, weaving tranquillity through harmonies that hum with spectral warmth.

After making an unforgettable impression on us with Bread & Circuses earlier this year, Sleepy Fields cements Powers of the Monk as one of the most evocative acts to surface on our radar this year. The Pontiac-Detroit-Ann Arbor-based duo, composed of David S. Monk and CasSondra “Pontiac” Powers, shape their sound with a kind of spiritual eccentricity that feels both ancient and ahead of its time. The track was produced by the band, mixed by Bryan Cook in Los Angeles, and mastered by Brian Callhoun in Nashville, each touch contributing to a soundscape that gleams like morning dew over a dreamscape of quiet awakenings.

They’re the kind of band you return to, time after time, to nestle into the seraphic soul of artists who understand how to turn authenticity into catharsis. Sleepy Fields feels like being gently reminded that peace can still be found, even when the noise outside feels relentless.

Sleepy Fields is now available on all major streaming platforms, including Spotify. 

Review by Amelia Vandergast

Arrell pushed ‘The One and Only Micka’ into devilishly hedonic folk storytelling

Mikernan Arrell returned with The One and Only Micka, a satirical Celtic folk whirlwind that spins mythological absurdity into something far too entertaining to ignore. Known across Portland for slipping between hard rock, alt country and eccentric folk projects, Arrell has built a reputation for refusing to posture and refusing to sand down any of his rough-edged humour. His solo work carries that same spirit, shaped through the creative freedom of Splinter Studio PDX and his label, Splinter Collective, both of which keep him firmly rooted in independence and experimentation.

He’s firmly back on our radar with this devilishly hedonic leprechaun tale, delivered through a jaunty fable that feels tailor-made for anyone who has ever taken comfort in the theatrical mischief of underground folk punk. Arrell brought the character to life with a wink, letting the narrative barrel forward with trad energy, ridiculous charm and a rhythm that tugs you toward the Emerald Isle before you have the time to question any of it.

The One and Only Micka moves with an infectious shamelessness, the kind that invites you to raise a glass, surrender to the absurdity and enjoy the fantastical obscurity for what it was rather than reading too deeply into the folklore. His vocals carry that knowing glint, the instrumentation swirls with enough bounce to keep the whole thing airborne and the satire lands without ever slipping into caricature.

As an artist who has played in multiple corners of the alternative world, Arrell channelled that breadth into a Celtic folk cut that felt alive, cheeky and unmistakably his. It’s the kind of release that reminds you folk storytelling still has room for humour, irreverence and characters who probably should not be trusted but are great company nonetheless. If you love Harley Poe and Pigeon Pit, don’t sleep on this.

The One and Only Micka is now available on all major streaming platforms, including Spotify. 

Review by Amelia Vandergast

Indie Folk became panoramically baroque in Jarel Domer’s ‘Ball & Chain’

Jarel Domer knows exactly how to conjure dusky psychedelia through chord progressions and emotively kaleidoscopic lyrical proclamation. That much is undeniable in Ball & Chain, his seminal single that sets a precedent for the introspective depths waiting to be unearthed in his forthcoming debut album, Sleepwalking.

If you can imagine Fleet Foxes reviving a baroque folk ballad, you’ll get an idea of the imagery waiting to greet you in Ball & Chain—a title that may not sound like the most amorous starting point for an indie folk number, yet it’s effortless to feel spirited away by the escapism offered in the panoramic vignette. The single could soundtrack a Maypole dance or an emotional reckoning at Midsommar Festival with equal sincerity.

The warmth in the lo-fi textures serves as the perfect foil for the gentle unease laced through his songwriting. As an artist with a firm grasp on the atmosphere he wants to create and the emotional clarity he’s willing to expose, Domer doesn’t hide behind polish or platitudes. He lets the song unfurl on its own terms.

After studying history and journalism, the Sandpoint, Idaho-based multi-instrumentalist began writing songs in his mid-twenties. He’s since honed a style that quietly radiates the depth of lived experience and literary awareness. Ball & Chainmay only scratch the surface of what he has to offer, but the view already cuts deep.

Ball & Chain is now available on all major streaming platforms, including SoundCloud. 

– Review by Amelia Vandergast

UK Folk singer-songwriter SOPE rendered ‘Real Love’ into his debut EP, Frame 1

SOPE

SOPE has given us a teaser of what’s to come on his debut EP, which is set to arrive in early 2023. Just as it feels like there’s another world between your waking world and sleep, the standout single, Real Love, exists as a semi-lucid meditation that lets down every conceivable defence. Standing naked, without the façade of heavy-handed production, through the candour of lo-fi saturated tape deck delay, SOPE wears his heart on his sleeves and gives the airwaves his shirt.

To juxtapose the raw wounds bleeding through the track, which allow you to imagine what Bon Iver would sound like if he took a few production tips from Elliott Smith, there’s an artful stringed folk crescendo, allowing the emotion to arrive without the posturing of grandeur. The result is an ache-soaked artefact of vulnerability, pinned to a spectrally grounded soundscape

The UK-based indie-folk project formed around a sound that drifts between organic warmth and electronic subtlety. Written and recorded in Manchester, SOPE’s debut EP Frame 1 captures the cinematic nature of memory; Real Love forms its most emotionally stark frame. Lyrically rooted in love, rebirth, and the quiet persistence of hope, it’s a song that leaves the listener more open than before. Fans of Sufjan Stevens, Nick Mulvey, or Mk.gee will recognise that same tender balance between introspection and expanse.

Follow SOPE on Instagram to stay up to date with news of his release.


Review by Amelia Vandergast

Kirby Lyle unravelled sorrow with Nashville soul in Carl’s Song

Kirby Lyle

Kirby Lyle set out to steal the hearts of indie folk fans with his latest single, Carl’s Song, and affectingly succeeded. His ruggedly sweet Nashville charm resounds through the roots-rich expanse of Americana soul.

With chords that wind around your rhythmic pulses with enough fervour to leave you attuned to the compassion within the panorama of a vignette trying to unravel the sorrow of the lyrical protagonist, it’s impossible not to be compelled by the breezy, kaleidoscopic melodies that will strip the weight from your wearied soul. With an intuitive understanding of the tolls we take on our own minds, Kirby Lyle is uniquely positioned as a singer-songwriter who can relate to you more than your closest friends.

Based in Nashville, Lyle has spent over thirty years shaping his sound as a multi-instrumentalist and folk artist. After making a mark on the Chicago folk scene, he has performed across the US and Europe, from Carnegie Hall to Notre Dame Cathedral.

Since embracing sobriety in 2021, he’s credited music with saving his life, and in return, he has poured that clarity and sense of purpose into his craft. Whether he’s conjuring the spirit of 60s folk or letting his classical training underscore his songwriting, Kirby Lyle creates music for those who feel deeply, fall hard, and need songs that show them how to rise again.

Carl’s Song is now available on all major streaming platforms via this link.

Review by Amelia Vandergast

From shorelines to songwriting acclaim, Alt Taverna set sail with The Sea, The Sea

In The Sea, The Sea, Alt Taverna delivered one of the rare new wave indie-rooted debuts that broadsides through sheer sublimity. It’s the kind of track that makes you want to sway your way into complete surrender, as you’re pulled beneath the surface by the waves of angular guitar refrains and the vocals that command the emotional tide. Every turn of the track leaves you suspended in tentative anticipation for the next burst of voracious electricity.

Imagine Interpol called a British coastal town home and donned woolly jumpers instead of designer suits. That’s where The Sea, The Sea lives, in the space where ascending guitar lines rise through the sea air and production drapes everything in a fine ethereal mist. The harmonic layering arrests without ever straying into indulgence, leaving the songwriting as sharp as it gets. No posturing, no facades, just the quiet, undiluted power of someone who knows exactly how to make resonance manifest beneath your skin.

Alt Taverna is the solo vessel of a guitarist once tipped as one to watch, who went from recording with Greg Haver to chasing meaning through religion and philosophy in London, Barcelona, and Dorset. These shifts ripple through his lyricism as much as the influence of Big Thief, Sufjan Stevens, and Leonard Cohen. Already recognised in the UK Songwriting Contest, The Sea, The Sea earned a five-star rating from the judges. But the only star you’ll really need to pay attention to is the one who penned it.

The Sea, The Sea is now available on all major streaming platforms, including Spotify.

Review by Amelia Vandergast