Browsing Tag

alt

The Dopamine is Spiked with Jagged Emo Hooks in Donate Your Friends’ Earworm, Sage

Donate Your Friends should be classified as a protected alt-rock species, especially after the release of their latest single, Sage, which hooks into the emo angst of the 00s with sharp melodic hooks. It takes a rare kind of artist to deliver nostalgia that hits with pure, gratifying euphoria instead of derivative pastiche, and it just so happens that the powerhouse is made up of them. The jaggedly bouncy anthem is guaranteed to deliver pure dopamine to anyone who remembers when music was still on MTV and wearing skate shoes and black nail polish was enough to get you bullied.

The same sense of psychological precariousness rattles through the production that nestles into the lo-fi atmosphere of Y2K independent pop-punk protagonists, but there’s a sense of Machiavellian maturity within Sage in the way that it takes unfeigned rage and delivers anthemic energy you can pour your scorn into and get some sanctity through resonance back.

The Louisiana-hailing four-piece, formed of Gunnar Magnus, James King, Blaise Davison, and James Cook, has been leaving its mark on stages from packed-out bar gigs to high-profile slots supporting Jimmy Eat World and Craig Owens of Chiodos. They’ve created a name for themselves as alt renegades with a tight live set, an ear for infectious melodies, and a refusal to let the golden age of alternative fade without a fresh kickback, and it’s going to leave an indelible mark.

Sage is now available on all major streaming platforms via this link.

Review by Amelia Vandergast

Smiling Jackals Sharpened the Edge of Addiction and Apathy in ‘Health Junkie’

Smiling Jackals didn’t just subvert the usual rock ‘n’ roll tropes in Health Junkie, they twisted the neck of tired clichés and bent James Dean Bradfield-esque guitar solos around cerebrally sardonic snarls until rock and punk created enough friction to singe the skin. The pulse of the progressions itches to break into the cataclysmic outcry of the choruses, but every moment of restraint and release is measured with magnetic precision.

There’s no empty swagger in Health Junkie, only feral finesse. Smiling Jackals are clearly on a mission to etch out a legacy with volition charged by intellectual firepower. The nostalgia-choked touches may nod to their formative sonic lineage, but there’s no coasting on borrowed memory. They weaponise the raw grungy fidelity as a conduit for angst, catharsis, and lyrical gold with enough weight to put them on the Forbes rich list, if sonic currency counted.

Reigniting the flame they lit before stepping back in the early 2000s, the trio’s return carries scars instead of sheen. Barry Sloane’s vocals hit like serrated confessionals, Nick Kilroe keeps the rhythm volatile and muscular, while Rob Nico’s lyrics cut between social commentary and spiritual unrest with riffs that kick like divine retribution.

Health Junkie is now available to stream on all major platforms, including SoundCloud. 

Review by Amelia Vandergast

Levi Lights On Project Lit the Signal Fires of Insurgency in ‘The People Awake’ – Orchestral Alt-Rock, Dub-Soaked Electronica, and Arcane World Music Collide

Levi Lights On Project

Levi Lights On Project’s latest single, The People Awake’, sparked a dawning of consciousness on the airwaves; after a cinematically orchestral intro that pulls you in with eerily ornate spectral tones and oscillations, The People Awake slams into a percussion-driven alt-rock manifestation of pure insurgency while Eastern motifs drift around dub-esque electronica and vocals that harmonise as a siren call to action; to join the progressives, to reject the expectation to be complicit to the systematic oppression, to shun the fear of being misunderstood and branded as woke.

As the progressively spellbinding production unfurls, it turns a myriad of stylistic corners before landing in arcane world music territory with a psychedelically ethereal Avant-Garde twist. If it has been a while since the sheer magnitude of an artist’s creativity affected you viscerally to the degree that the lyrical underpinnings became a haunting mantra, hit play.

Levi Lights On Project has always been rooted in philosophical depth and radical sonic experimentations, yet with this release, they pushed the boundaries into oblivion, directing every note into a visceral critique of passivity and complicity, making ‘The People Awake’ less of a protest anthem and more of a spell cast on the disillusioned.

‘The People Awake’ is now available to stream on all major platforms via this link.

Review by Amelia Vandergast

Spite Never Tasted So Sweet in the Snarling Alt-Indie-Punk Static of ‘Licorice’ by 92Steps

Skunk Radio Demos by 92Steps

With no interest in immaculate solos or the polished edges demanded by purists, 92Steps‘ lo-fi snarler Licorice tears through the pop-punk façade with a ragged confidence that sardonically smiles in the face of perfection. Produced in a Minneapolis flat, a family cabin, and a borrowed office space, Licorice is a product of unapologetic constraint—and it thrives in every rough-edged second.

A single-person operation run by Riley Schindler, 92Steps makes it clear from the get-go that this is punk for the disillusioned, the spiritually wrecked, and the quietly gluttonous. Drawing from the same well of misanthropy that fuelled the ‘90s, Licorice strips the polish away from pop-punk, delivering a snarled, lo-fi anthem of pure infectious volition—but there’s plenty more to hold onto than scorn.

Machiavellianly switching up vocal energy with deliberate abandon, the single doles out hooks with the sting of Fidlar and the songwriting stripes of The Offspring, forming a corrosively catchy callout aimed at a slick protagonist that’s easy to hate—probably because they’re hiding in everyone’s orbit.

It’s not clean. It’s not clever. It’s not trying to be. What Licorice is, however, is a shot of caustic humour on the vein of alt-indie-punk’s increasingly self-serious skin. There’s real venom in the charm, and sincerity stitched between the sneers.

Licorice is now available to stream on all major platforms, including Bandcamp.

Review by Amelia Vandergast

White Picket Fences Are a Lie: Pillowprince Rewire Queer Disillusionment in ‘R the Straights OK’

With ‘R the Straights OK’, the Oakland indie gaze trio Pillowprince crack open heteronormativity with a switchblade grin and the simmering scorn of lived queer reality. What starts in alt-indie quiescence, all ethereal lilt and slowburn restraint, fractures with a scuzzy interlude that proves distortion isn’t just a sonic texture—it’s the emotional static that fuzzes over every moment spent being bent into someone else’s blueprint.

Crafted from the leather-creased, glitter-smeared spaces Pillowprince call home, the track flickers between fragility and defiant force. Olivia Lee’s vocals, feather-light but sharpened with conviction, echo through the mix like the ghost of a version of yourself you tried to edit out. As the instrumentation teases the hook with near-ritualistic patience, you’re pulled into a queer coming-of-age narrative where conformity is the real villain. The melodic breaks are more than sonic punctuation—they’re the spaces where all the unspoken things pool.

Lyrically, it’s a spicy satirical stab at the expectation to fall in line—white picket fences, 2.5 kids, dead-eyed suburbia—before it swerves back into the shadows of a different kind of fulfilment. This is queer unity under pressure. A noise-drenched consolation for anyone crushed under the weight of pretending that “normal” ever meant safe. With Sea Snyder on drums and Liza Stegall on bass locking in a rhythm section that holds its shape even as everything else implodes, the band embodies queer rebellion.

‘R the Straights OK’ is now available to stream on all major platforms via this link. 


Review by Amelia Vandergast.

Freezing Points and Sonic Frames: An Interview with Ginger Winn

Ginger Winn composes to crystallise the moments that cut deepest. With Freezing warming the airwaves and Freeze Frame poised to follow, the Nashville-born artist sat down with A&R Factory to reflect on how loss, love, and legacy have shaped her evolving sound. In this interview, Ginger opens up about the personal grief that seeped into the fabric of her latest work, the creative freedom she found with co-producer A.J. Yorio, and how years spent ghostwriting laid the groundwork for her most honest record to date. From the catharsis of returning to a heavier sound to the role of art as emotional excavation, this conversation is for anyone who understands what it means to hold on while letting go.

Ginger Winn, welcome to A&R Factory! With Freezing on the airwaves and Freeze Frame on the way, it’s the perfect time to dig into the darker side of your music, the shift in your sound, and everything else that makes your songwriting tick. What’s the story behind Freezing, and what kind of headspace were you in when you wrote it?

-Freezing is a reminder to cherish the people you love while you have them. We all have memories we wish we could freeze in time. When I flew out to Ohio to record with AJ Yorio (co-producer of Freeze Frame), he had written a piece of music, but no lyrics were coming to him. So he sent it to me. Around the same time, Matt (my co-writer and half of Keep Good Company, my label) had just sent me the lyrics to a new song. I immediately thought, “1+1=2”—these two pieces fit together. And that’s how Freezing was born. I had just lost my dad very unexpectedly, and this song became incredibly therapeutic for me during the worst of it.

Your new album Freeze Frame flips your debut on its head. What made you want to go in a darker, heavier direction this time?

-As I mentioned, my dad passed away in November of last year. Unfortunately, he chose to leave us. It was something I always knew might happen, but nothing can prepare you for how it feels when it actually does. That loss inevitably shaped the underlying tone of Freeze Frame. The most ironic part is that this would have been my dad’s favorite album of mine—he loved indie, alt, and rock music.

Was the shift something you always saw coming, or did it just happen naturally?

-When I first started making albums, I was about 12. My mom and I would write an album every year for almost ten years. Up until around 2020, I had a bit of an old-school rock sound. Then I decided to try pop music. Freeze Frame is really just a return to the sound that first rooted me.

A.J. Yorio helped shape the sound of this record—what was it about working with him that really clicked for you?

-Me and AJ in the studio was like watching two kids throw paint on a canvas to see what happens. It felt like we had complete freedom to try anything, and I think that really comes through in the music. I walked in with ten fully produced demos, and Matt and I gave AJ the freedom to experiment with anything he heard—rearranging, changing chords, whatever.

You’ve got some big shows coming up, from New Colossus to The Fest for Beatles Fans. Do you have a favorite kind of gig, or is it all just about getting out there and playing?

-I always enjoy playing at the Colony in Woodstock, mainly because of the sound quality, but also because the aesthetic is spectacular. Catch me and AJ there on May 1st. It’ll be a special treat because he’s coming all the way from Cincinnati!

You’ve always described yourself as an artist in the truest sense, almost like music is your version of painting or sculpting. How does that shape the way you create?

-I’ve been doing music since before I can remember—literally. My dad gave me a ukulele when I was a baby, and since then I’ve always had one to play. When something deeply affects me, I write about it. It’s funny because until I was about 17, I was afraid I couldn’t write lyrics. Melodies always came easily to me, but my mom handled the lyrics in the beginning. I should have realized that my only issue was that I had nothing to write about—I hadn’t lived enough yet. I say that jokingly, but it’s kind of true.

You spent a while making music for other people before deciding to focus on your own stuff. What was that switch like?

-When I moved to Cape Town, I needed to make money, and music was one of the few things I was really good at. High school dropouts aren’t exactly qualified for much! Living in Cape Town felt like living in a different reality—six to seven hours ahead of my family in the U.S., experiencing summer while it was winter back home. I changed a lot there. I stopped dreaming of stardom and fame and focused on making great music, whether for myself or others.

For the most part, I was writing and producing for others because, like I said, I needed the money and they were paying. I learned how to write and produce for different artists—I even filmed and directed a music video for someone. Those two years in Cape Town felt like four years of college because I was producing, writing, and singing for eight hours a day. I went a full year without taking a single day off. It was the definition of grinding, and honestly, I only did it because I had to.

When Matt and Tina came into my life and decided they wanted to make an album with the music we had written together, I was like, “Alright, sounds good.” I didn’t take it seriously until about a month before they flew me to New York to record with David Baron. Then it all suddenly became very real.

You’re playing the Go All In For Mental Health benefit concert this month—does performing at events like that feel different compared to a regular gig?

-All gigs kind of feel the same to me. It’s not that I don’t like performing, but it’s not my favorite part of the business. I’m a bit of a homebody sometimes. My main focus when performing is creating a great experience for the audience—keeping listeners on their toes and sharing the message to cherish the moments and people in their lives because you never know when they’ll be gone.

When someone listens to Freeze Frame all the way through, what do you want them to take from it?

-I want them to take away my personal mantra: cherish what you have now. The people, the moments, the situations—because we never know what the future holds. The greatest gift you can give yourself is to love the people in your life right now. Be open, reach out, push yourself outside of your comfort zone. Life is beautiful, but only if you choose to see it that way.

Discover Ginger Winn’s discography on Spotify.

Interview by Amelia Vandergast

The Sonic Prism Cracked: Damian Wolf Splits the Alt-Rock Spectrum on ‘Flying Colors’

Damian Wolf didn’t just carry the alt-rock flame into his debut LP—he set it ablaze with every saturated string. On the title single Flying Colors, the Maryland-born 20-year-old commands his solo project with the kind of DIY nerve that rarely finds this much cultivation. Entirely self-recorded, mixed, and mastered in his bedroom studio, the track stands as a defiant declaration: no one else engineers Wolf’s chaos—he shapes it into art with his own hands.

He carved his teeth on early ’90s grunge and hard rock, filtered that influence through the discord of noise rock and post-hardcore, then added his own commercial alt sensibility to the mix without sanding down the edges, resulting in a track that channels shoegaze and grunge into high-octane alt-rock visceral volition. When the overdriven guitars refrain from the production, the choral layers of reverb-soaked guitars are left to synergise with Wolf’s arcanely sweet vocals, which bleed into the mix that’s mercilessly blasted by punk’s percussive pulse.

It may often feel like there aren’t many more alt-rock intersections to explore, but Wolf didn’t just find one—he scorched a new route through a multitude of them with Flying Colors. The title track is the flashpoint, where texture becomes tension, and melody finds its way through the maelstrom. If you want to head back to the alt-90s, take this route. Just don’t expect nostalgia. Expect impact.

Flying Colors is now available to stream on all major platforms including Spotify and Apple Music.

Review by Amelia Vandergast.

IAMCORNELIUS – Life: A Sonic Altitude Check at 35,000 Feet

IAMCORNELIUS

Life by IAMCORNELIUS escapes easy articulation and categorisation. Even if you think along the lines of electro-infused soft melodic rock-tinged folk pop with Avant Garde motifs of soul, you’ll still struggle to run in parallel with the single, which is driven by emotion instead of restrictive genre parameters.

IAMCORNELIUS doesn’t need to make a statement with his moniker when he does it so viscerally through his sound. With his consolingly gruff timbre lifting in the light of the chorus, his intricate acoustic guitar notes bleeding intimacy into the single, and the artful electronic sequences shaping its filmic soul, Life nestles you in its expansive interstellar embrace. If you’re ever caught up wondering about the meaning of life, this track doesn’t offer answers—it reflects the weight of the question in exquisite, untethered form.

Originally from Kenya and now based in Cincinnati, IAMCORNELIUS has spent a life between continents, filtering experience through a diverse musical history. He’s not confined by genre or form—his work is rooted in honesty, written for those tired of looking in the mirror and ready to search their soul.

There are no clean comparisons here. The only adequate metaphor is watching the clouds disappear from the window of a plane as you realise, with both clarity and quiet panic, just how infinite it all really is.

Life by IAMCORNELIUS is available to stream on all major platforms.

Review by Amelia Vandergast

Syion Unleashed a Dark Electro Rock Aphrodisiac with ‘the brat in me comes alive’

Syion has always operated in a euphonic league of his own, but the brat in me comes alive is a seductively dark electro rock invitation into the world of one of the most original artists in the UK. With whispered vocals as sensuous as the indie-tinged trip-hop-adjacent instrumentals, he delivers catharsis by the smorgasbord, inviting his ever-growing fanbase to envelop themselves in hypnotically arcane, spectrally scintillating reverie. There’s the sense that Syion is a true artist, one who can manipulate emotions at will and alchemically express himself beyond sound and syllables. If you thought Deftones were sexy, prepare for the ultimate aphrodisiac when you hit play.

As an English singer-songwriter, performer, musician, and producer, Syion seamlessly fuses dark alternative pop, folk pop, dance, and downtempo electronica with bold, boundary-pushing creativity. His album, Introspections of a distorted mind, plunges into social commentary and personal exploration while painting across a diverse sonic spectrum.

the brat in me comes alive is available to stream on all major platforms, including Spotify. 

Review by Amelia Vandergast

Katy Rae’s ‘New Girl’ Is a Middle Finger Wrapped in a Power Chord

Katy Rae has become an indomitable force on the alt-rock scene with a vocal presence that could make Courtney Love quake in her babydoll dresses. With a lo-fi, garagey take on pop-punk-pierced alt-rock, she snarls her way to the top of the scene, spitting venom in every note.

‘New Girl’ is a vindicating anthem, fuelled by swathes of rage hurled like a projectile at an ex who’s parading his latest conquest—one who will inevitably feel the same indignation. With a serrated-edge hook and a chorus built for bellowing, the track turns scorn into anthemic resolve. There’s no lamenting the past here, only the sound of someone stepping over the wreckage with an amp dialled up to vengeful. The fallout is all yours to scream along to.

Katy Rae’s songwriting is as sharp as her delivery. Pulling from personal experience, she turns life’s bruises into sonic bruisers, scuffing up the pop edges of her sound with raw production and riot-ready energy.

The single is available to stream on all major platforms, including Spotify.

Review by Amelia Vandergast