Browsing Tag

Baroque Pop

‘River’ Flows with Rosalind Powell Pouring Every Conceivable Emotion into Baroque Pop Grandeur

Posted on 3 April 2026

Rosalind Powell has the kind of voice you want to gild in gold, frame in a national gallery and gaze at with the reverence it deserves. In River, taken from her album Sound Eagle, there’s a classical purity to her operatic harmonies that gives the baroque pop arrangement a near-sacred glow. The track feels panoramic, opening out into metaphorically picturesque imagery as her phenomenal range glides across unadulterated passion. Powell gives more in this five-minute performance than most West End productions manage in a full evening; there’s feeling in abundance, but never any loss of control.

The delivery carries a natural elegance, while the composition allows each melodic turn to widen the emotional frame. You can hear the discipline of her classical piano training, but also the freedom of a songwriter shaped by the natural world and the flowing movement of sound.

After studying music at Cambridge, Powell continued to develop her voice across different recording periods, and on Sound Eagle, recorded in Llanon with producer Dow Fereday, that growth feels fully lived-in. With hundreds of songs behind her, choral composition experience, and upcoming appearances including Llangollen Fringe Festival, Powell sounds like an artist with a rare depth of feeling and the range to carry it.

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

Review by Amelia Vandergast

Dreamy Doo-Wop and Raw Self-Reflection Drift Through the Kaleidoscope of Jacob Tell’s ‘So Much of the Time’

Posted on 27 February 2026

Jacob Tell wore the scars of self-flagellation on his sleeve in So Much of the Time, the standout single from his sophomore LP, Hard to Be Human. The dark lyrical themes are tempered by a whimsical twist of 60s psych pop, the kind of wistful theatricality you’d expect to hear drifting from a dimly lit backstreet cabaret stage. That push and pull between bruised confession and off-kilter charm gives the track its beautifully skewed gravity, and it instantly pulls you into Tell’s inner monologue.

By using dreamy doo-wop textures as a form of emotional abstraction, Tell triumphed in his attempt to lay the rawest wounds bare, the kind inflicted by existing in a world where self-directed derision settles in the bones long before anyone else gets close enough to hurt us again. It’s an eccentrically forlorn meditation that taps into the collective desire to revisit a version of ourselves and connections when we weren’t quite so idiosyncratically obscure or tangled up in doubt.

As the barbershop-quartet-esque harmonies drift in and the jangly honeyed melodies wrap themselves around the hazy aura, Tell hands you the perfect sonic space to sit with your own contradictions. You drift, you ache, and you feel that peculiar relief that comes from knowing someone else has given language to the isolation of kicking yourself alone.

The LA-based independent artist continues expanding this world of emotional excavation across the rest of Hard to Be Human, produced by Don Douglass and released through Ekletrik Rekordz. Recording for two follow-up projects is already underway, including the intimate collection Someone to Cry and the classic-song tribute record Under the Influence.

So Much of the Time is now available on all major streaming platforms, including Spotify. 

Review by Amelia Vandergast

The Spikes Let Indie Pop Theatre Waltz in with Baroque Darkness in ‘Dancing (in the Palm of My Hand)’

Posted on 20 August 2025

Almost 30,000 streams in just three weeks have already proved the magnetic hold of The Spikes’ latest single, Dancing (in the Palm of My Hand). With the official video offering a candid peek into its orchestration, the prelude unfurls as indie cinema in itself, pulling listeners into the creative nirvana of Iago Haussman’s mind. The track’s filmic shadow only heightens the neo-noir pull, pushing it deeper into the alt-indie psyche.

Like an heir to Nick Cave’s poetic gravitas, The Spikes twists darkness into something debonair. Yet to suggest stylistic mimicry would cheapen the artistry. The baroque flourishes, the orchestral grace, and the theatrical strut belong to The Spikes alone. There’s a sophistication in the arrangement that avoids pastiche entirely, letting the ebb and flow of moody grandeur breathe with innovation. It’s theatre for the soul, dressed in indie pop regalia with a swagger that signals a true cult figure rising.

Behind the music lies a multidisciplinary artist fluent in cinema, poetry, and painting. Born in Rome and shaped by a youth spent on film sets, Iago has turned The Spikes into more than a project; it’s an evolving persona stretching across art forms. With a background that spans punk roots in Delicate Prey, visual exhibitions, and poetry readings, his creative identity carries both weight and intrigue. Now splitting time between Berlin and New York, he’s gearing towards a full-length album in 2026, with singles paving the way.

Dancing (in the Palm of My Hand) is now available on all major streaming platforms – including YouTube.

Review by Amelia Vandergast

Ami Leigh Bares Teeth and Wings in the Swankily Baroque Alt-Pop Redemption of ‘Downfall’

Posted on 26 July 2025

In her latest single, Ami Leigh proved once more that artistic evolution is her signature with Downfall, a swankily baroque piano pop anthem of redemption. The chamber strings and the hints of honkytonk reverberating through the instrumentation provide the perfect stage for her vocals, which carry infinite ethereal weight as she indirectly consoles anyone who has battled their way through narcissistic abuse and reclaimed their own mind.

Downfall unravels as the ultimate salve for anyone who has harnessed the shame that often lies in the wake of manipulation. In the span of four minutes, Ami Leigh absolves the agony and grief, using her own experience with narcissistic abuse to empower her fanbase. It’s a stunning celestial triumph that epitomises Leigh’s superlative talent, which may be chameleonic, but she’s always consistent with the visceral impact of her stunning sonic imprint on the alternative music circuit.

Across her career, Ami Leigh has repeatedly proven herself as a trailblazing force, earning accolades through her innovative sound and magnetic performances. Her 2020 debut EP, Dark Soul Light Heart, lit the spark, and with a string of acclaimed releases, live BBC North performances, and international recognition, she’s become an undeniable fixture in the UK alt scene.

Downfall is now available on all major streaming platforms, including YouTube.

Review by Amelia Vandergast

Sketches of Carol Sang The Candlelight Chorus of Strangers in ‘People I Don’t Know’

Posted on 4 July 2025
Sketches of Carol

With People I Don’t Know, vocalist and composer Sketches of Carol gave voice to the unspoken communion between strangers bound by shared mourning, drawing from a day suspended between pub banter and candlelit sorrow. From this liminal space, the London-based artist cast her artfully arcane spell, unravelling a two-part composition that aches with reverence for the brief flickers of connection that outshine even grief.

Lyrically, she refuses to take anything at face value. She prises poetry from what hovers on the periphery and folds it into looped vocal lines that mesmerise without ever succumbing to overindulgence. The harmonies spiral with harmonic hypnotism until only the diaphanous falsettos and lush reverb remain. Then, the silence breathes. And in that quiet, the quasi-baroque grandeur floods in on the swell of Stephanie Tress’ cello.

Unlike her improvisational debut EP Messengers, this composition finds definition through its structure without losing the ephemeral quality that distinguishes her voice in the indie landscape. Written in one intimate session and layered with a devotion to preserving emotional clarity, People I Don’t Know reflects Sylvia Schmidt’s instinctive songwriting. She honours the fleeting nature of empathy without letting it slip into sentimentality.

As the chaos of hyperconnectivity continues to erode the value of genuine exchange, Sketches of Carol restores its worth with a track steeped in compassion. It doesn’t sermonise. It simply reminds you to feel.

People I Don’t Know is now available to stream on all major platforms. Find your preferred way to listen via the artist’s official website.

Review by Amelia Vandergast

Jordan Bryant Bared the Bones of Insecurity with Baroque Honkytonk Gospel in Hard to Love

Posted on 16 June 2025

From the title of Hard to Love alone, you know you’re going to be walking into heavy emotional territory; regardless of how much you brace yourself, the impact is seismic. In her latest release, Jordan Bryant lays bare the uncomfortable ache of self-awareness, letting her lyrical self-inquisition bloom into a feverish spectacle scored by a baroque honkytonk piano. The jaunt never lightens the load; it only makes the emotional weight more complex as the theatrical elements throw stark relief onto the confessional core of the song.

Bryant doesn’t deliver a cry for pity, she delivers a reckoning. Addressing an anonymous protagonist with a relentless stream of pointed questions, she captures the brutal ambiguity that swells when love is present but misfires against the sharp edges of inner turmoil. The track begins as a melancholic piano pop ballad before bleeding into alt-country rock and brushing against gospel tonality, but every shift in the sonic palette remains loyal to the underlying vulnerability.

Hailing from San Antonio, Bryant has already made her mark with her emotive presence and skill as a pianist, but Hard to Love is her most intimate excavation to date. Drawing from the stylings of Patty Griffin, Brandi Carlile, and Rufus Wainwright, she curates a performance for the self-aware and self-critical, offering resonance to those who flinch every time love tries to touch them.

Hard to Love is now available on all major streaming platforms, including Spotify. 

– Review by Amelia Vandergast

Julia Powell Resurrected the Esoteric with Her Art-Pop Earworm, ‘LAZARUS’

Posted on 27 February 2025

In a world where mannequin heads and hypnotic light shows serve as the set dressing for Julia Powell’s sonic exorcisms, ‘LAZARUS’ arrives as the latest séance. Since her 2022 debut EP, Ephyra, fans have been left suspended in Powell’s void—unsure whether to dance, dissolve, or do both at once. With her upcoming album alchemically stirring for a late 2025 release, she’s already made it clear that her dominion over the avant-garde is absolute.

Between the stabbing ache of the piano keys, the chamber strings that oscillate beyond recognition, and the trip-hop-tinged middle-eight teetering on the edge of total chaos, ‘LAZARUS’ doesn’t just transcend—it disorients. Powell’s teasingly arcane vocal lines slither through the arrangement, twisting through histrionic motifs that claw at the psyche. The track is as much a fever dream as it is a statement: Powell has reached the epitome of art pop and staked her claim to supremacy.

If her live shows—described by fans as out-of-body experiences—are any indication, ‘LAZARUS’ is only the beginning of the next rupture in Powell’s hauntingly immersive world. The esoteric earworm is a sign of the seismic shifts to come.

‘LAZARUS’ is available to stream on all major platforms, including Spotify.

Review by Amelia Vandergast

Lena Lovelace – Nameless: an otherworldly lullaby of gothic grandeur

Posted on 11 January 2025

The hauntingly ethereal installation of Avant-Garde aural cinema, Nameless, from alternative artist Lena Lovelace resonates with a gothic baroque atmosphere that cradles her Soprano arcane harbingering vocals. As she paints a sci-fi vignette of an alien which appears to eight people in different guises, listeners are compelled to acknowledge how no one appears in the same form to two people; we’re all alien abstractions attempting to cultivate a sense of familiarity in each new connection. Against the unsettling backdrop, Lovelace remains a fearlessly unique artist whose messages challenge you to perceive reality from new angles.

The Cambridgeshire-hailing, Norwich-based artist has been writing and recording for over a decade. Her sound—shaped by an indie/alternative vibe reminiscent of Shakespeare’s Sister—often draws on the traits of fictional characters that stir her imagination. This latest track was inspired by a dream in which an alien landed on Earth and fell in love with eight people.

The result is an otherworldly lullaby of gothic grandeur that soars above ordinary parameters, offering a glimpse into Lovelace’s dedication to forging new aural paths and ensuring no listener leaves without a shift in perspective.

Nameless was officially released on November 2nd and is now available to stream on all major platforms, including SoundCloud.

Review by Amelia Vandergast

Francesca Pichierri painted an Avant-Garde pop prism of the absurdity of reality in ‘Io Sto Bene’

Posted on 8 December 2024

After a beguiling fusion of style, soul and spirituality in her sophomore single, Francesca Pichierri has evolved into an alt-pop Avant-Gardist with her third single, Io Sto Bene. The infectiously obscure piano-driven earworm inches cabaret pop further into the mainstream with the playful panache in Pichierri’s vocals bringing equal amounts of energy as the upbeat staccato piano notes before the mid-way mark hits and sinks the listener into a kaleidoscope of baroque pop experimentalism.

Io Sto Bene pulls you into a rabbit hole of mental disquietness, efficaciously depicting how it feels to try and find stability while everything in your external and internal world feels off-kilter.  Like a rush of acceptance, the outro is a luminous visualisation of ephemeral transcendence away from the tumult of turmoil.

The independent singer-songwriter penned Io Sto Bene inspired by a bitter-sweet memory of her mother waking up from her first ovarian cancer treatment to reassure the family that ‘everything is fine’, and the epiphany of how paradoxical it is to be determined to appear fine in the midst of chaos. This is so much more than art imitating life; the single is a painful prism of the absurdity of reality.

Io Sto Bene was officially released on November 29th; stream the single on Spotify now.

Review by Amelia Vandergast

Go on a baroque space odyssey with Chris Sunfield’s Circus of Love

Posted on 15 May 2023

Circus of Love is enough of an oddity odyssey it could make David Lynch jealous. Yet, Chris Sunfield pulled it all together with the sweetly impassioned style and soul of Wayne Coyne and the spacey touches of ELO and Bowie, leaving just enough room for his own masterful maker’s mark.

Affectionate and Avant-Garde in the same histrionic breath, Circus of Love will easily become another hit for the singer-songwriter who always allows his sonic signature to evolve with every new release. The only consistencies are the superlative talents through which the sentiments are splayed out across the addictive melodies and the rapturous reception every new single garners.

Circus of Love hit the airwaves on May 5; catch it on Spotify.

Review by Amelia Vandergast