Browsing Tag

Solo Artist

saintedblu Scorched the Alt-Rock Scene with the Hyper-Pop Voltage in ‘Sweet But Psycho’

saintedblu didn’t hold back with Sweet But Psycho. As his first official release, he came through swinging with a sound that sharpens those iconic 00s pop punk hooks through the friction of electro-heavy post-hardcore. There’s no nostalgia gimmickry here—just the raw alchemy of genre collision charged with all the futurism of bands in the vein of Bring Me the Horizon. The choruses don’t fizzle out or lean on repetition; they go straight for the jugular with hyper-charged bounce, as the polished production carries every vocal stab with enough voltage to make your chest rattle.

The alt-rock foundation is solid, but it’s saintedblu’s refusal to play it safe that gives the track its razor edge. His rap stripes didn’t fade when he pivoted to alternative rock after launching his career in 2020—they rerouted, slamming a jolt of attitude and rhythmic precision into his new sonic territory. Since relocating from London to Australia in late 2024, he’s kept that edge sharp while letting more emotion bleed into his music, creating songs that speak to resilience, chaos, and the pleasure of ripping away the gloss to show the nerve underneath.

With Sweet But Psycho, he’s delivered an infectiously liberating earworm that may make you think twice about which femme fatales you let slip between your sheets. It’s an incredible blast of alt-rock volition that’s sharper than a guillotine and effortlessly sets saintedblu apart from the rest.

Sweet But Psycho is now available to stream on all major platforms, including Spotify. 

Review by Amelia Vandergast

Shane J. O’Dwyer Let the Wreckage Speak – An Interview on Solitude, Sound & Starting Over

From painting houses to painting emotional landscapes through melancholic indie pop, Shane J. O’Dwyer laid everything on the line for his solo debut CALL ME BABE. After navigating heartbreak, band breakups, and the daily weight of sobriety, his debut transmits unfiltered emotion forged in isolation and resilience.

In this interview, Shane opens up about the emotional gravity behind the single, his raw recording process at CYBERSOUND Boston, and the pivotal moment when California stopped being a pitstop and became home. Whether he’s pacing train platforms with a demo in his headphones or finding solace in LA’s psychedelic rock undercurrents, Shane refuses to hold anything back — not from himself, and certainly not from his audience.

Welcome to A&R Factory, Shane J. O’Dwyer — we’re glad to have you here and excited to talk about this new chapter in your music career. The circumstances leading up to your solo debut weren’t easy — how did those experiences shape the emotional weight behind CALL ME BABE, and did they change how you approach your songwriting?

I definitely had a shift in perception for most things leading up to this debut. I had walked into it absolutely heartbroken for a handful of different reasons, my lady, my band, sobriety, but underneath it all was this inevitable force I finally felt myself lean into. No matter what, when the lights go down, and there’s nothing left, music is always there for me, and it’s the only way I can translate my feelings into something that can justify the struggles I find myself tumbling through. In terms of songwriting, not much has changed besides me finally sharing what I write and being more patient with the process.

There’s a striking euphonic authenticity in the track — it doesn’t shy away from raw sentimentality, yet every note feels refined. Did you always envision CALL ME BABE sounding the way it does now?

Honestly, no, the original demo of this song sounds different, and part of me enjoys the energy more in the raw bedroom tapes, but I’ve always looked at these songs like my own little Frankensteins, so however they grow is ultimately out of my control — I’m here for the organic magic. I more or less let the song itself take the wheel, and I find that a lot more satisfying from an artist’s perspective.

After such a disheartening fallout with your band, was stepping into a solo project freeing, daunting, or both?

Both — I was looking forward to finally doing my own thing, but it was a bit of a trip going into a studio alone for the first time, it’s a lot easier to deal with the environment when you have your close pals with you, but the experience was great, and I’m really lucky I worked with Rob at CYBERSOUND in Boston. He made the process really pleasant, and I’ll always be grateful for that. I honestly think Rob is a big part of the reason I’m more comfortable with the position I am in.

The production in CALL ME BABE carries a sense of adventure while still sounding fully realised. Were there any moments in the process where you thought, “This is the direction I’ve been chasing all along”?

There were moments at South Station waiting to take the train home, I’d listen to the demo from the day, and sort of pace back and forth, dissecting what we had done, and what I needed to do next. It’s a funny question for me because I did have a moment where I went “thank god I like this so far”.

What was the point where you decided your return to LA wouldn’t just be temporary, and did that shift mentally push you into finishing and releasing your debut?

Ironically enough, I did my final recording session a couple of days before I flew back to LA for my “little break”, so Rob was able to polish up the song without me in the room. I initially presumed that when I returned, I’d finish it, but after being in CA for a couple of weeks, the anxiousness of releasing the song grew, and I was no match for patience. Rob and I chatted through text, and after 2 sessions without me there, it was ready to go. It was perfect timing. I had a moment with myself out here in Malibu, and simply just didn’t look back to Massachusetts, there was too much smoke to try and see through anyway, whereas in California, there was just a clear road ahead, which I needed.

I feel at home in California, and that presence I find from within when I am here is something I treasure, and I’m at a place in my life where I’m not going to let go of that, or look back for nothing, or anyone, sincerely speaking. I knew, though, I had to come out with something immediately, and that was an already pre-embedded thought. If anything, this song should’ve been out months ago, but I had to save the money to record, and that required more disciplined time getting side jobs painting houses, and extra hours at work.

You’ve said you’re doing everything you can to let your music bleed into new places. Are there any specific spaces or listeners you’ve felt most drawn to since releasing this single?

I’ve been really drawn into the local psychedelic rock scene out here. I would like to start a new band on the side, and that solely came from the inspiration of seeing some really great local bands, and meeting some great artists out here, like The Snares & Rainbow City Park, they made me feel right at home. Although they are both from the Bay Area, it was my first local show this time around with this mindset in place. I saw another LA band that night as well, Babe Ruthless — they f***** ripped. I really recommend checking them out. As of late, I have only been listening to LA WITCH; they have been my favourite band for months now, and I’m hoping to catch their show next weekend here in LA. I found LA WITCH through the recommended artists tab on Spotify through Death Valley Girls, another LA-based band as well.

Has going solo changed your relationship with music in any way? Do you find yourself writing from a different emotional register now that you’re not considering a group dynamic?

Yes, and no. More pressure applied, but fewer things to worry about. At the end of the day, I’m just doing what I do, I haven’t put much thought into comparisons.

For anyone hearing CALL ME BABE as their introduction to your work, what do you hope they take away from the tonal bliss and the lyrical depth in the track?

Nothing but a picture, and a space where they can feel good even about the things that hurt most. I really enjoy the thought of everyone hearing the same song, but the place they go to is as unique as a snowflake, and I find it a privilege that those can be made between my sounds. It’s really cool.

Stream CALL ME BABE on Spotify now.

Follow Shane J. O’Dwyer on Instagram.

Interview by Amelia Vandergast

Andrea Sandruvi Scored a Lament into the Strings of Post-Grunge in ‘Fate’

With his third single, Fate, Andrea Sandruvi went beyond tuning into the tones of post-grunge —he dredged the stylings from a place where anguish clings to melody like silt to skin. Inspired by a tragic incident in Piemonte, where a young man succumbed to despair and drowned in the cold indifference of a river, Fate kindles the dark side of kismet into an ocean of post-grunge emotion; you’ll struggle to keep your head above the waves as visceral vulnerability crashes over you.

The ethereal backing harmonies lend euphony to the production, which could have been torn from a tape deck cradling an alt-90s demo if it weren’t for the polish that swathes the agony in the progressive instrumental transgressions. With nods to artists in the same vein as Incubus and bluesy guitar motifs to temper the raw tendrils of grunge, there’s no denying the independent artist’s authenticity. Nothing in the instrumental arrangement feels borrowed. Every melodic movement sways under the weight of lived experience and a mind glazed with melancholia.

From picking up a guitar after a bolt-of-lightning visit from cousin Alessandro to playing countless covers in dimly lit clubs, Sandruvi’s roots in alternative and grunge run deeper than stylistic mimicry. Now, after cutting his teeth rearranging rock and pop in acoustic formats, he’s filtering that raw emotionality into original compositions, each track springing from something felt rather than forced. Fate doesn’t ask to be understood—it makes sure you feel every ache of it.

Fate is now available to stream on all major platforms via this link.

Review by Amelia Vandergast

OneSelf Wires Time into the Rock n Roll Console – An Interview with Mario Deschenes

Versions 'N' Not 8 by OneSelf Featuring Mario deschenes
In his latest conversation with us, OneSelf – the moniker of Mario Deschenes – lifts the curtain on his eighth album Versions ‘N’ Not 8 and the unflinching commitment it took to bring every beat, lyric, and mix to life single-handedly. Far from the well-trodden path of collaboration, Deschenes carves out his sound in total solitude, channelling each layer of his music through an uncompromising lens of personal discipline and emotional intent. The interview offers a rare look at how independence has sharpened his creativity rather than isolating it, as he reflects on his discography, explains his recording rituals, and hints at where his muse might take him next. With reflections on grief, growth, and the endless pursuit of innovation, this interview is a meticulous unpacking of artistic willpower and a refusal to stagnate.

OneSelf, thank you once again for talking to us. Last time, you gave us a fascinating insight into the creation of Seven Eleven. This time, we’d like to know more about your process and your artistic independence.

It’s a pleasure to talk to you about my most recent album, Versions ‘N’Not 8.  The Seven Eleven album was quite a journey.
You want to know more about my creative process and artistic independence. Wow It’s an answer of a lifetime, and I’ll try to describe my musical world as best I can.

You are the sole musician and producer on your albums, which is a remarkable feat. What are the biggest rewards and challenges that come with taking full creative control over every aspect of your music

Thank you for saying it’s a remarkable feat, but I don’t think so, I have as my source of motivation, if I don’t do it, there’s no one to do it.  If I don’t do it, there’s nobody to do it for me.
My greatest satisfactions are when I write a good text, create the music that goes with the lyrics, record it with the sound I want, with the arrangements that support the song. When the song is finished and I feel I can’t improve on it, then comes a moment of pride, which is short-lived. Because I remember a phrase from one of my creative teachers who said you’re as good as your last creation. If your song is good, well done, what about the next one?
 
While one of the greatest challenges of creative mastery is to continue to be creative after 8 albums, because I don’t want to repeat what I’ve already done, I’m always looking for what can be different, what will be different.
I’ve already started putting together songs for the next album, and I think I’ve figured out what it’s going to be about.
This search, which I’m talking about, starts with the writing, not repeating a way of doing things, a way of saying things, even if I’m not going to repeat myself.

When you are working on a track, how do you approach balancing the different roles — from songwriting to arrangement, performing, recording, and mixing — without external collaboration?

How do I approach balancing different roles? Well, I take on each role, one after the other.
When I write, I am a writer. I decide the text is good, and then I head to the studio to find the right drum rhythm to accompany the lyrics, the guitar sound, the interpretation of the words, and the emotions I want to convey. At this point, I become a guitarist, singer, and programmer in addition to being a writer. This is when I modify the lyrics
I’m in service of the song, making it the best it can be. I start by recording the drums. Once that’s done, I record the voice and the guitar simultaneously. The voice will be re-recorded later in the creative process. Then comes all the other instruments and arrangements.
Once the song is complete with mastering, I redo the final mix as many times as necessary until the song feels perfect.
All this is done without any external collaboration. Over time, I had to adjust to this approach, perhaps because I don’t like waiting—waiting for someone else to be ready. Plus, the time spent waiting could be used for something else. So, I learned to work independently in order to achieve the best possible quality for my songs. I must play different roles  for my songs, but I love it.

As the only musician on your albums, you must develop a distinct connection with each song. How do you decide when a track is truly finished and ready for release?

 Yes, I do have a certain connection with my songs, since I write them. Not all the songs I write are recorded. When it comes time to select the songs, I reread the lyrics as if I were not the one who wrote them. If they move me, appeal to me, and the theme resonates with me, I choose them. They then join other texts for a second selection.

Then comes the day of recording the album. Which song speaks to me the most? It’s a matter of feeling. Often, it is the lyrics that resonate with me the most. After that, the creative and recording process begins, all the way to the final mixing.

Once finished, I listen to the song on the living room sound system. If it sounds good, it’s fine. If something feels off, I investigate what might be wrong. If it’s the mixing, I rework it. If it’s good, the voice is clear, the instruments are well-balanced in the mix, and the song still appeals to me, that’s a good sign.
The next step is to listen to the song in the car with all the ambient noise while driving. If the song still pleases me, then I can say it’s finished and ready to be part of the album.
All these steps take time. And it’s the best way to have the best possible songs.

In what ways do you think your albums carry a unique signature because of your solo approach compared to records produced with full bands or external producers?

 It’s a difficult question because, so far, all my albums bear my signature at every step, through the entire creative process. I don’t know what happens in other bands; I can only imagine based on what I’ve read on the subject.
What is certain is that I make all the decisions, and I take full responsibility for them. If the album turns out well, I’m the one responsible, and that’s great—I appreciate it. If the opposite happens, I also take full responsibility and tell myself I’ll do better next time. I listen to what others say and see if I can improve certain aspects for the next album or song. If, however, it’s an artistic choice and someone suggests an approach I hadn’t thought of, I’ll definitely try their idea on another song.

Since I am the sole orchestrator of my albums and feel that I improve with each one, and since I have more ideas to try out, my method can’t be all that bad. I don’t know any other way to make an album besides the way I do, but what saves me is that I don’t want to repeat the same formula. I’m always looking for another way to make music, to write it, record it, and mix it.

I know there are still other aspects to explore.

Over the years, how has your independence shaped the evolution of your sound and recording techniques? Are there any moments in your discography that particularly stand out to you as milestones in your growth as a solo artist?

 When I look back on my past years, it’s clear that they have shaped my evolution, whether in writing or in the recording process. I was—and still consider myself—to be learning. I’m still learning and know that this journey won’t end with the next album.
I must say I started recording with a 4-track cassette recorder, then an 8-track cassette recorder, and later moved to digital, and so on. I have never stopped learning.
It took me years to trust myself and to embrace the fact that I am a songwriter, composer, performer, guitarist, singer, sound engineer, arranger, director, and producer.
Looking back, I understand that each song leads to another song, and each album leads to something different on the next. In the early albums, the songs marked my creative path and my journey of growth. For me, there was a turning point starting with the third album, Traces. There are very good songs on that album, but the fourth, Portraits of a Confidence Door 4, marked the biggest shift. It was an album I made after the death of one of my brothers, as a tribute to him.
The fifth album, Unicitude, was an album of freedom where I explored new aspects of creation. The sixth, Atypical So (A) Typical, felt like the most polished and refined album—at least that’s what I thought at the time.
Then came Seven Eleven, where I poured everything I had learned up until then into what I believe are very good songs.
Finally, my most recent, Versions ‘N’ Not 8. I thought the sixth would remain the most complete, but I was wrong. This album truly lives up to its name. The songs are multiple versions, at every stage of creation, resulting in the best final versions of each song.
From the fourth album to the eighth, these are records that reflect a departure from my earlier approach to albums.
I wouldn’t have been able to create Versions ‘N’ Not 8, my most recent, without making the ones before it. When I look at the songs now, I see the growing confidence that has taken shape and continues to develop.
I know what I’m capable of creating and where I’m headed. I’m already excited for what’s to come.

Since your music is entirely self-created, what does your songwriting environment look like? Do you have specific rituals or habits that help you stay creatively focused when you’re building an album from the ground up?

 My writing environment, at least at home, always includes a stack of paper and a pen, just in case… I don’t have any specific ritual to speak of. Inspiration can strike while reading a book, watching a show, having a conversation, or during a family dinner—or not.
Life in general provides me with plenty of inspiration;
however, it’s up to me to find the angle from which I want to approach what has caught my attention.
It’s up to me to write it—or not…

What new themes, sounds, or challenges are you aiming to explore in the future?

 I know that for my next album, I want to explore the theme of Time—the evolution of time and how it changes our lives. I’ll see where this idea takes me.
It’s possible that I might completely change direction, but one thing I do know is that I want to keep having fun with sounds and offer the best songs and videos I can create.
I want to stay connected to the music world in general, keeping up with new trends.
I aim to continue evolving musically, to provide you with the best lyrics and music you deserve.
Stream and purchase the latest LP from OneSelf via Bandcamp.
Interview 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

Ralph Bishop’s ‘Photographs’ is a snapshot of rock theatre

With Photographs, the standout single from Ralph Bishop’s debut LP, The Path, the 18-year-old artist from Dorset threads theatrical intensity with classic rock sophistication. Far from settling into well-trodden territory, Bishop carved a distinct niche by pairing his histrionic harmonies with an unapologetically dramatic arrangement that would be equally at home on the airwaves or the Broadway stage.

The track’s emotional depth is as vast as Bishop’s awe-inspiring octave range, which soars alongside the cabaret piano, chamber strings, and searing guitar solos that nod to the golden age of 80s rock. Rather than overpowering the melody, the instrumentation leaves space for Bishop’s theatric vocals to command attention, balancing subtlety with unrelenting intensity.

Lyrically, Photographs transcends rock’s usual fare by delving into the poignant fragility of our relationship with mementoes, inviting listeners to reflect on how memories can simultaneously comfort and haunt. Bishop’s piercing poetry only amplifies the visceral weight of his performance, proving his talent isn’t just in the notes he hits but in the stories he tells.

Having cut his teeth in front of crowds as young as 11 and sharpened his musicianship at the Guildhall School of Music and Drama, Bishop brings a maturity beyond his years to his solo career.

Stream The Path in Full on Spotify.

Review by Amelia Vandergast

Spyndycyt existentially unravelled over a four-to-the-floor Avant-Garde beat in ‘I Don’t Wanna Do This Anymore’

Spyndycyt’s latest single, ‘I Don’t Wanna Do This Anymore,’ amps up the sonic signature scribed through his prior releases, giving the electrifying track a pulse of EBM while keeping true to his erratically eccentric vocal style as he unravels over a narrative of existentialism and frayed with chaos strobing synth lines.

As quirky and kinetically rhythmic as Neuroticfish and The Gothsicles, as experimental as, well, it’s pretty hard to draw a comparison in that domain, this latest single from Spyndycyt proves how succinctly he can command a four-to-the-floor beat that injects symphonic elements of the 90s rave scene.

It’s a broadsiding tour de force that is undoubtedly as effective at altering your brain chemistry as electroshock therapy. Bite down on this exploration of mistrust, betrayal, and the crushing, ever-growing suspicion that all your deepest and unspoken fears are true.

Contrasting the dark thematic undercurrents of being a terminal disappointment, the solo artist ensures that I Don’t Wanna Do This Anymore oscillates through euphorically rhythmic hedonism to sugar the pill you will want to swallow time and time again.

I Don’t Wanna Do This Anymore is now available to stream on SoundCloud.

Review by Amelia Vandergast

Sugar the pill with The Elegant Chasers’ aural antidote to modernity, My Medicine

Rock has known many guises throughout the decades; plenty of them can be revelled in with The Elegant Chasers’ latest intensely affecting track, My Medicine. By fusing the soaring soul of Journey, the brashy grit of 90s Britpop, Slash-reminiscent guitar work, and hints of hard rock to augment the rhythmically chameleonic hit to the nth degree, alt-rock’s most debonair solo artist delivered a triumphant tour de force with My Medicine.

Featuring Lloyd Pritchard on skins, the self-recorded and produced release, which was spawned Rembrandt Rooms, Hersham, Surrey, hits a raw nerve towards the outro to deliver an exposition on the plaintive reality of living as a struggling artist in an epoch which only favours legacy artists and novelty, giving listeners plenty to think about, if they can tear their minds away from the Oasis reunion hype.

My Medicine will be prescribed on September 27; sugar the pill of modernity by streaming the single on SoundCloud and Bandcamp.

Review by Amelia Vandergast

Eamonn Hubert wrote a new chapter in NYC Rock history with his forthcoming hit, ‘Can’t Get the Words Out’

Eamonn Hubert

New York’s states freshest rock renegade, Eamonn Hubert, is set to write a new chapter in the city’s rock n roll legacy with his forthcoming EP featuring the standout single, Can’t Get the Words Out.

In addition to shredding virtuosic blues rock riffs, the 16-year-old singer-songwriter, multi-instrumentalist and mental health advocate lyrically shreds the shame from speech impediments in the rock hit which isn’t just big enough for Broadway, it’s bigger. Can’t Get the Words Out may have an intrinsically personal meaning to the young prodigy, but universal resonance shines, transmitting a beacon of empowerment to neurodivergent listeners or simply anyone whose introversion compels them to shy from the spotlight.

The rock opera-esque aesthetic to Can’t Get the Words Out is no coincidence; Hubert has shone in the acting sphere, leading to his talents catching the eye of an NYC casting director recruiting for School of Rock: The Musical. At just 10 years old, Eamonn joined the musical’s first national tour; he’s also excelled academically, participating extensively in his high school’s instrumental and choral groups, and achieving recognition in prestigious ensembles like the All-State Vocal Jazz Ensemble.

As the principal cellist for the Senior Binghamton Youth Symphony Orchestra and a seasoned performer at the New York State Blues Festival, he continues to make significant strides in his musical career.

Can’t Get the Words Out will be officially released on November 2nd with Eamonn Hubert’s 5-track self-written, performed, and recorded EP, which was mixed and mastered by Bradford Allen of Acorn Records, Cortland, NY.

Follow Eamonn on Instagram and Facebook to stay tuned to news of the release.

Review by Amelia Vandergast

ARCTISKY Talks Music Therapy in an Exclusive A&R Factory Interview

In this interview, ARCTISKY opens up about how his passion for mental health awareness is deeply woven into his sound. He speaks candidly about his personal experiences, shedding light on the importance of positive self-talk and its impact on mental and physical well-being. His commitment to mental health isn’t just a topic he touches on—it’s the foundation of his music. Through his lyrics and soundscapes, ARCTISKY offers listeners a space for reflection and healing, blending his emotional depth with eclectic influences, creating something deeply personal and powerfully poignant. 

ARCTISKY, your latest single, My Relief, which hit the airwaves on September 6th is inexplicably sublime. We’d love to dig into the emotional underpinnings. Were there any personal experiences which inspired the track?

Yes, definitely! I’ve had to channel experiences from some extremely strange and dark places. Funnily enough, when I wrote this song, I was still in a state of not being able to understand this side of the emotion spectrum fully. Whenever I was dealing with anything, I’d usually work through these things with the help of music ‘cos I felt like self-reflection was what I needed over anything.

We always get bombarded with so many different opinions of how you should treat yourself and others, we usually tend to lose sight of what’s the healthiest thing for our mind, body and soul. This song quite literally came out of two different times I was admitted to the hospital for health complications I faced during lockdowns, where the last visit was close to being a fatal call. These things give you quite a bit of perspective on how you may want to spend your time on earth.

What was the core message of the song?

“Self-talk matters.” Yeah, I cannot emphasise enough how important it is to mind how we speak to ourselves. A lot of us are not mindful of what our internal dialogues are saying to us. If left unchecked, your mind is susceptible to all sorts of hijacking, and it’s quite literally like training a muscle. We must make it a priority to be our own best friend first, otherwise, the mind will absorb fear and doubt from the haters and naysayers around us, and use it as jet fuel for self-sabotage. It really doesn’t help when people around you are enforcing these, even if it’s just mindlessly repeating some things they’ve heard. It’s crucial for us to safeguard what we allow into our minds so that we don’t let others affect our thinking.

We must be able to judge what’s best for our own health and mental well-being. If our minds are getting too overwhelmed, they will manifest into physical illnesses. The mind and body work hand in hand – it’s all connected. You can’t have a healthy mind without a healthy body, and vice versa – it’s ignorant to think otherwise. Once you get your mind and body right, the soul naturally follows. It’s all a flow. We should do our best to eliminate all internal suffering and convert or channel that energy into the positives we can bring to the people around us. Positive self-talk is key.

How important is it for you to advocate for mental health awareness through sound?

I would say it’s what gives these projects their foundational pillars. I grew up in the Maldives, where the concept of mental health has just only started taking off at a rapid speed. I feel like it’s mainly due to the highly conservative side of the population that would shut anything up before it could even be discussed. I always saw a lot of people suffer due to this – where the prison system never treats the mental illnesses of the prisoners, and are run through what’s more identical to a brainwashing program on the weak – which in turn breeds a lot of mentally unstable victims of injustices to be released back into society without the proper care or systems in place to actually heal them. It’s extremely dehumanising, and inhumane in my view. The whole prison system is a wreck, and doesn’t even abide by ‘The Nelson Mandela Rules’. Demonised for basic human shortcomings, and anything that’s not in line with what they say, and all of a sudden you’re… It’s so f**kin’ sad, it’s ridiculous. Like quite literally using fear to bully an entire damn nation, and mental health is scrutinised as a weakness because the people in power are afraid that people may find their way to the knowledge that will help them arm themselves against these political manipulations and further efforts to prime social conditioning.

I honestly do not know where on Earth I’d be if it weren’t for music. Songs have spoken meaning to me, and some of the lyrics I’ve heard over the years have been a therapist to me more times than I can count. I’d always feel a whole lot of relief in my subconscious after spending a bit of time with some of my favourite songs.

What would you say to anyone who struggles to find self-compassion?

You’ve got to stay true to what you know is best for yourself, and then the people you love. Remember, you cannot love anyone else if you don’t love yourself first. The more we seek validation outside of ourselves, the further it gets away from us. The only form of validation we need in this world is our own. Once we can validate our self-worth to ourselves, there really isn’t a lot we need to do except guard our energy from those who may come to steal or drain it. You are going to be a reflection of the 5 people closest to you, so selecting your people wisely is crucial in my view. It’s better to spend time building yourself for a better future and life than trying to impress people you’re not even sure you like in the first place.

Most people hide behind masks, and it’s really not that difficult to move forward knowing that almost everyone’s got their own sh*t – so leading with love, respect, compassion and empathy not only makes it easier for yourself, but collectively allows us all to show each other a sense of love and care on a communal level. Always be kind to yourself first. The world is already full of so much suffering, and you shouldn’t be adding more pain and suffering to yourself with your self-talk. Stand up for what’s right, but don’t exhaust yourself in the process of fighting for something you have no control over.

Which artists did you draw influence from while orchestrating the single?

I feel like a bit of that old-school alt-rock/grunge may have influenced this track quite a bit actually. Okay, so here’s a blend of some influences that are in the ballpark – a bit of Daughtry, Pearl Jam, Alice in Chains, Nirvana, Staind, Chris Cornel, Linkin Park, Creed, H.I.M., Lifehouse, Seether, Velvet Revolver. Also slower tracks by Metallica, John Mayer, Bob Dylan, a bit of Johnny Cash and probably a lot of the official soundtrack from the ‘August Rush’ movie – I love all the tracks in that motion picture. The blend’s just full of so many different flavours – I do have trouble pointing out exactly what it is. I feel like it’s just one big blob of everything I grew up listening to if I’m being honest. I’ve lost track!

How did you interplay influence with your own artistic identity?

I just end up blending the sounds to a stage where I get my selected palette of sounds to communicate with one another in the tone of whatever emotion/mood I’m trying to get out of the music. I feel like a lot of the work that I do feels like painting with colours, and looking at sounds through the visual lens really helps me conceptualise what I’m working with.

Other than that, I feel like there is just no way something can’t feel authentic and soulful if it’s a projection of real and authentic experiences. I definitely do my best work when I’m channelling exactly what I was feeling in the moment of the experiences that I write about. It needs to be authentic and real. You need to be able to visualise exactly how you are feeling.

An artist’s own feelings and emotions are their strongest tools for originality, and I live by that. The type of work that I do is really not something I can rush, and I do have to let ideas simmer and even let them marinate for a while before I can treat them more. It’s funny cause I treat my music like they’re my children – it goes through all the stages ’til it grows up and is ready to move out.

We love the tonal juxtaposition the gruff spoken word segment introduces, what inspired you to include this in the track?

I believe it came from wanting to emulate a half-baked numb mood with the music. I ended up wanting to retrograde the chords in that section and still wanted to maintain that washy sound as much as possible. When I ended up reversing some of the guitar layer, and flipped it – it gave the whole section this laid-back and cruisy motion where I got to just throw some light and sexy licks on top. The washy ‘verb tying the guitars together is what really makes this section almost sound a bit wet and slippery, and slightly purple. The message reflects a bit of a questionable dialogue with oneself before going down a very interesting rabbit hole (rabbit holes that open up the doorways of perception-type things).

Who did you work with on the production?

I played everything on this track and produced all of it, like most of the songs on this album (unless I want to have that unique flavour for BVs, unique instrument features, or if it’s a collaborative track). In addition to that though, I always pass my work on to my trusted mixing and mastering engineer, Alex Emrich, who’s based in Canada. I completely trust him to take my tracks to the finish line, and working with him has always been a pleasure.

What’s next for ARCTISKY?

I believe I’m getting ready to take these songs out for live performances soon. Currently, I’m exploring how flexible I can be with the music that’s already written. I’m open to being flexible and reimagining my sound to suit whichever venue I may perform at, and cater that sound to the energy of the venue.

There’s been so much I’ve had to rewire about live performances from the ground up, and I know for a fact I won’t take these songs out to live venues until I’ve tightened up all loose ends on the performance side of things. Obviously, it’s in tiers when it comes to the scale of productions. How you treat one thing is how you treat everything, so yes, I’m definitely not just gonna do it for the sake of doing it! I’m still on the lookout for the musicians who will occupy the spots in my lineup – who will help me fully bring these ideas to life. I’m extremely pumped to see what lies ahead on this journey, and I’m just keeping my eyes on the target, no matter how wavy it may get. So yeah, hopefully a lot of good comes out of all this output!

Stream My Relief on Spotify now.

Connect with ARCTISKY to stay up to date with his latest releases on Instagram.

For more info, head to the artist’s official website.

Review by Amelia Vandergast