Browsing Tag

dance pop

Country-Disco Glitter, Queer Desire and Rodeo-Level Euphoria Rev Through Ross Alan’s Pride Anthem, Backseat Joyride

It is about time an artist stepped away from the fray and threw some glitter on country pop; Ross Alan didn’t disappoint with Backseat Joyride, their salacious earworm of a pride anthem. Pulling rhythms into a rodeo of pure euphoria, Ross Alan gives RuPaul a run for her money, letting country twang and disco beats collide in a sweat-slick, neon-lit release built for queer summer excess.

Demure sparks of electricity fly from their vocals when the gasoline-soaked chorus hits, riling up country cliches until they become a blaze of kinetic, dancefloor-worthy adrenaline. Perceptibly, Lil Nas X walked so Ross Alan could run, and Backseat Joyride proves how far country-pop can stretch when desire, humour, pride and nerve take the wheel.

Co-produced by Taylor Morrow of PureGoldBaby, the single dropped after Cry Again and Loveland, pushing Ross Alan’s upcoming summer LP deeper into country-disco territory. The Los Angeles-based artist, recently nominated for LA Blade’s 2026 Musician of the Year, brings a decade of releases, collaborations, and high-profile live shows into a track that turns lust into celebration.

We can’t wait to see what boundaries they break in their next installation of pride-pulsing sound.

Backseat Joyride is now available to stream on all major platforms, including Spotify.

Review by Amelia Vandergast

Kace Interview: A View into the Mind of a Man Turning Hardstyle into Exposure Therapy for Anyone Afraid to Be ‘Cringe’

Kace is only two releases into his career, yet with DJ OFF, he’s already dropped a manifesto for anyone tired of being hyper-aware of how they are perceived. Built from heavy bass, hard techno, hardstyle, ridiculous lyrics, and a refusal to stay polished for the sake of respectability, the track became a kind of exposure therapy against cringe culture. In this interview, Kace opens up about growing up around judgement, finding self-expression through loud music, using production to unlock confidence, and wanting ravers to dance like phones have ceased to exist. he’s also reflects on Gen Z perfectionism, AI-era imperfection, nihilism, sexuality, desire, Hollywood party fantasies, and why being real matters more than being flawless

DJ OFF is the kind of track that allows everyone to collectively forget about real life for a few minutes. What sparked the idea behind the track, and when did you realise it needed to be silly, heavy, and completely unashamed?

DJ OFF was made for letting loose. What sparked the idea was my fear of being perceived by others. That fear made me hold back from releasing a lot of music, so putting out an unapologetic song early on helps me not overthink my work. I also feel like my generation, Gen Z and even Gen Alpha, are too serious. We label something cringe if it doesn’t fit a box or a narrative. I am guilty of that too.

How did it feel to lose all sense of pretence and embrace chaos with the lyrics in DJ OFF? 

It felt really freeing and fun. Writing outlandish lyrics over a heavy beat is healing in a way. I used to feel caged in, worried about being seen as cringe, but DJ OFF became a kind of exposure therapy for me. Letting go of pretence was exactly what I had been missing.

Was that freedom something you had been missing in your music before this release?

Definitely, even though I grew up listening to Kesha, Sophie, and Kim Petras, I still struggled to pioneer a sound or to be able to express myself freely like the artists I mentioned. Expressing yourself can be done through more serious and slow ballads, of course, but I’ve always gravitated towards upbeat music.

At only 20 years old, and still at the stage of releasing a sophomore release, you’ve got your whole creative career ahead of you. What feels most exciting about being at this raw, early stage where nothing has to be too polished or over-explained yet?

Even though being this early in a creative career isn’t easy, it is always rewarding. The most exciting thing is definitely gaining an audience slowly but surely, growing a community, and finding like-minded people.

Before producing, you said you struggled to express yourself. What was it about heavy bass, hard techno, and hardstyle that finally gave you a way to say what words could not?

I find heavy bass music very unapologetic. I grew up in a very closed-off environment where music like this was frowned upon and demonised. Getting to a point in my life where I can express myself without feeling othered is very freeing. The music says what I never could.

Loud music can make people feel powerful, feral, euphoric, or completely untouchable. What does that kind of sound unlock in you when you are creating it and when you’re the one in the crowd/wearing the headphones? 

I often find myself living vicariously through loud music. On those low days when I feel self-conscious, I open my project file before I even know what I want to say. Making music brings up my mood and my confidence. I feel like I have unlocked a higher version of myself.

When you imagine people hearing DJ OFF in a crowd, what kind of moment do you want them to have?

I want people listening to DJ OFF to dance like phones do not exist. I want their energy to be just as ridiculous and outlandish as the beat and the lyrics.

A lot of young artists feel pressure to sound serious or fully formed straight away. How important is it for you to keep that playful, chaotic, still-figuring-it-out energy alive in your music?

It is extremely important. I am guilty of fearing how I am perceived or criticised, and that is something artists deal with throughout their careers, especially at the start when we do not know if our music will even be tolerated. Releasing experimental, playful music is my middle finger to that feeling.

Why do you think there’s so much pressure for artists (and everyone else) to maintain the illusion that they’ve got everything figured out?

I think social media made us believe everyone else is living a perfectly planned life. At the end of the day, it’s only human nature to want to put the best version of yourself out there.

But I feel like there is definitely a shift culturally towards less curated, more raw sounds and imagery with the rise of AI , when “perfection” is accessible, imperfections starts getting valued

What do you think DJ OFF says about who Kace is right now, and what do you hope it opens up for your next releases?

Not to come off as too deep, but DJ OFF represents my nihilism and my desire to be myself because life is too short. It says that I would rather be real than perfect. I hope DJ OFF opens the door for me to take bigger creative swings without second-guessing.

I have a ton more fun dance pop songs coming up that explore different themes of sexuality, desire, and fantasizing about partying in Hollywood.

Connect with Kace on all major platforms via this link.

Interview by Amelia Vandergast

TROUBLE staked their claim as brat pop supreme with their debut single, Bad Boy

The EDM pop duo, TROUBLE, which has a shot of becoming as iconic as Paris Hilton and Nicole Richey with their Y2K aesthetics and infectious attitude, anchored their debut floor-filler, Bad Boy, in siren-esque angst and an infallible recognition of their own self-worth; crashing in as this generation’s wave of aural feminism.

The four-to-the-floor beat, ferociously riling in all the right places vocals, and progressive unpredictability of the earworm never leaves you feeling that TROUBLE is just going through the motions; there’s a rare sense of authenticity in the urgency of Bad Boy; if you met TROUBLE backstage, you’d know exactly what to expect from the duo and their magnetically spiky sensibility if you met them backstage, and you also know that some poor wannabe lothario is still licking his wounds after inspiring this single.

Era-wise, Bad Boy, and its lacerating, playful fury, is impossible to pin down; EDM and pop aesthetics from the 90s and 00s take an intravenous shot into the anthem, which hits just as hard as Icona Pop and Charli XCX’s I Love It.

No fuckboy would stand a chance against these two, or anyone who decides to take note of the hell-hath-no-fury brat pop lyrics and build their own main character moments under the mentorship of the Nashville duo, Sofia Werner and Kyla Cusick.

Bad Boy is now available to stream on all major platforms, including Spotify. 

Review by Amelia Vandergast

 Possibly Jamie Turned Performance Addiction Into the Bass-Swathed Hyper-Pop Earworm ‘2000000Time’

Glasgow-based queer pop artist Possibly Jamie channelled every atom of his self-aware eccentricity into a full-throttle pop spectacle in 2000000Time. The moniker, borrowed from a 1995 Björk track, belongs to Jamie Rees, a classically trained musician who taught himself production and has spent the last few years shaping one of the more idiosyncratic voices in Scottish electronic pop. In this latest release, that theatrical impulse collides with hyper-pop intensity, resulting in a track that thrives on dramatic momentum and irreverent wit.

2000000Time is the beautifully bizarre consequence of a self-confessed theatre kid pouring his personality into a frenetically supersonic whirlwind of sound. Bass-swathed kinetic beats ricochet through the arrangement, sending the rhythm into delicious disarray until the choruses erupt into scintillation. There, the iconic lyric lands with full dramatic flair: “I’d never leave you for another man, but I’d leave you for a feeling, better gazing at an angry crowd than gazing at the ceiling.” The line captures the song’s core tension while doubling as a hook built for repeat listens. Wrapped in gleaming 80s synth-pop motifs, the track delivers an earworm that marries cerebral lyricism with the adrenaline rush of a dance-pop fix.

The narrative centres on a relationship with performance itself. The spotlight becomes the real partner, while the human connection quietly fractures in the wings. Each show operates as another emotional affair with the audience, transforming devotion to performance into a sly meditation on attachment and repetition. Possibly Jamie leans into the theatrical absurdity of it all, even slipping in a bleeped apology to Pedro Pascal during the closing moments, a wink that confirms the hit thrives on self-aware humour.

2000000Time is now available on all major streaming platforms, including Spotify. 

Review by Amelia Vandergast

 

Ariel Diaz – ‘Might as Well’: A Neon-Stroked Temporal Gateway into the Escapism of Pop’s Retrofuture

Ariel Diaz has returned with his latest single, Might as Well’, an iridescent retro-pop cut that shimmers like a neon-stoked kaleidoscope. Blending the self-aware swagger reminiscent of Alex Cameron with the blinding lights of The Weeknd’s urban soundscapes, Diaz offers a vibrant, ear-snagging anthem. It finds the perfect moments to lean into new-wave synth-pop, revel in 80s nostalgia, and emerge as a truly scintillating floor-filler. This track wraps you in its hazy, affection-soaked pop production, its synths strobing and glistening, leaving you utterly spellbound by the independent singer-songwriter’s distinct vision.

Diaz takes the archetypal love song and transforms it into a mesmerising temporal gateway. He swaps out mundane sentimentality for an escapist fantasy where love emerges victorious amidst pulsing rhythms. Lyrically, Diaz continues to explore longing and the subtle complexities of affection with an emotionally candid approach, often using self-effacing humour to reveal a raw vulnerability. His knack for balancing melancholy with sharp wit ensures that even his most intimate lyrical disclosures resonate with considerable power.

‘Might as Well’ is now available on all major streaming platforms, including YouTube. 

Review by Amelia Vandergast

Ami Leigh drenched Wait & See in discoball-synaesthesia and neon-lit nostalgia

Ami Leigh proved yet again that there’s no genre she can’t turn her talent to in Wait & See, her discoball-synaesthesia-soaked single. Through vocals carrying the seductive power Madonna held in her 80s era and a handful of cheeky ABBA-chord flourishes thrown into the disco-funk-pop mix, the staccato-licked earworm pulls you straight into a neon-lit kaleidoscope of euphoria.

The thematic centre sits far deeper than hedonism, circling the soft liberation that comes from knowing you’ve got someone who feels like home. It taps into that strangely pure sensation where some people feel nostalgia for moments mid-bloom, long before they’ve even passed. If that’s you, you’ll recognise the ache instantly, and Wait & See becomes the ultimate 70s-steeped reminder to live every second fully.

The single reflects the upbeat heart of the story behind it. It captures a couple at a party riding the wave of a night so good they want to freeze it in time. Even the cameo from Sweep, whose squeak opens the track, springs from a studio in-joke between Ami and producer Neil Gibson, who keeps the puppet perched on his mic as a dust cover.

That sense of fun is stitched subtly through the production, a hint at the creative atmosphere Ami has cultivated throughout her career. After years of building her reputation across the North East, appearing on BBC Introducing, reaching number one on international stations, collaborating with artists across continents, and releasing an EP that confirmed her commitment to her path, she’s continued to sharpen a sound that feels instinctively hers, regardless of the stylistic shifts.

Wait & See is now available on all major streaming platforms, including Spotify. 

Review by Amelia Vandergast

Craymo turned ‘Last Christmas’ into an iridescent EDM pop rush

Christmas came early for Craymo fans, on November 1st to be precise, when the innovator gave the iconic single, Last Christmas, an EDM rework. Craymo, the New York-born, Orlando-based indie pop disruptor who started out in the LA club scene and carried his sound through film placements, TV features and award circuits, showed again that he could take a familiar track and send it through an entirely different orbit without losing an ounce of intention.

If it were not for the lyrics that almost everyone in the Western hemisphere could verse off by heart, you would be forgiven for thinking this was an original mix. Craymo made it entirely his own by crooning in true 80s synth pop style over a four-to-the-floor house beat that traded sleigh bells for phasers, strobes and rays of iridescence. The shift gave the cover a euphoric momentum that pushed the song out of nostalgia and into something far more kinetic. He locked into the progressive edges with unwavering confidence, letting the gloss build and letting the vocal cut straight through the room with a cool, unforced rise. If any version deserved late-night spins, festival tent drops, or a spot in the seasonal club canon, it was this one.

Craymo had already proved he carried a knack for turning pop into something far-reaching, and Last Christmas slotted neatly into that instinct. It carries enough bite and shimmer to catch listeners off guard in the way only a well-aimed rework can.

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

Review by Amelia Vandergast

Priyank Shah used his cultural roots to shape monocultural mould-smashing dance pop euphoria in ‘Light’

London-based producer and composer Priyank Shah kept it intrinsically original with his monocultural mould-smashing single, Light, which lands as such an uplifting release you might genuinely wonder if you will ever quite come down from it. With the hook deep immersivity of pop, the glistening synthesised ebbs and flows of house and synth pop lines of pure euphoria,

Light proves how compassionate melodies have the capacity to be, especially when they are joined by layered harmonies that show no hint of restraint when illustrating how pure affection could feel if you allow it to run as freely as the sticky sweet ecstasy in this latest release. By letting his cultural roots colour the production, he stands in a luminous league of his own, letting the groove move dancefloors while the sentiment quietly unties emotional knots.

Across the arrangement, he threads hand-played guitar warmth into the electronic architecture, letting the rhythm lift like a sunrise set written for people who feel too much and keep most of it to themselves. That duality makes Light equally suited to festival speakers and solitary late-night headphone moments.

Born in Gujarat and shaped by years of classical vocal training before relocating to London to sharpen his production skills, Shah built his sound around the idea of Sound as Divine, then filtered that philosophy through modern dance pop sensibilities. International press has already started to clock the way he pulls traditional Sangeet roots into contemporary contexts, yet Light feels less like a calling card and more like a statement of intent, a bright, sincere love song that proves dance tracks can still carry profound soul without sacrificing radio-ready immediacy.

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

Review by Amelia Vandergast

Mia Laren crowns the dancefloor with defiant soul in ‘Are You Ready (for My Crazy)’

In under a week, Mia Laren has already racked up over 14,000 streams on her new music video for Are You Ready (for My Crazy), which has enough momentum and earworm anatomy to become one of the biggest viral pop hits of 2025. The single flips the script on the tired mantra of “if you can’t handle me at my worst, you don’t deserve me at my best” by soulfully digging into how the scars we carry neither determine nor diminish our worth and power. They’re simply there, etched into our story, leaving us raw as we embrace vulnerability every time we drop our armour.

With a spiritual aura wrapped around primal beats, transcending from Mia Laren’s luxuriant harmonies and kinetically liberating choruses, Are You Ready lands as one of the most affectingly empowering pop anthems you could reach for when questioning what you bring to relationships. Mia Laren may play the role of the seductress with ease, but behind her femme fatale, siren-esque presence on the airwaves, she is a profound artist who has more than earned her place at the top of the charts.

Born in Baltimore and now based in San Diego, Mia Laren is a singer, songwriter, producer and dancer who threads pop, dance-pop, Latin and reggaeton influences through music that consistently explores self-discovery and empowerment. Her background in public health informs the deeper purpose behind her art, using music and movement as tools for social impact. With Are You Ready (for My Crazy), she proves that strength was never lost, only hidden beneath heartbreak, trauma and survival.

Are You Ready (for My Crazy) is now available on all major streaming platforms; for the full experience, watch the official video on YouTube. 

Review by Amelia Vandergast

Rich Hennessy distilled seduction and sticky-sweet hedonism into his euphoric disco pop earworm, One Night

Rich Hennessy proved he’s got the rare instinct to turn desire into something contagious with his latest single, One Night. The Nashville-based singer-songwriter, known for pairing sharp pop sensibilities with emotional depth, has crafted a track that sparks with the tension between control and surrender, the electric space where lust, reflection, and self-belief collide. Drawing influence from Dove Cameron, Jessie J, and Reneé Rapp, One Night translates disco pop through a modern lens of infectious euphoria.

It’s the kind of track that would have swept through the glittering floors of the ABBA era, but with its moody dance-pop builds and sleek production, it feels just as primed for neon-soaked nights in 2025. The hooks are sticky-sweet and hedonistic, fuelled by adrenaline and sensuality, yet there’s more at play beneath the surface. This isn’t throwaway escapism; it’s a soundtrack to confidence blooming in real time, proof that Hennessy knows how to channel sex appeal into pure empowerment. As the groove swells and the chorus hits with irresistible momentum, the track turns seduction into ceremony.

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


Review by Amelia Vandergast