In this instalment we’re bringing you a subtle, timely protest, a dreamy slow-burn with real bite, a touch of orchestral flair, a band showing their teeth, and the return of a beloved indie institution.
For the full playlist, click here.
Lana Crow—”Orwellian Times”
“Orwellian Times”* drifts in like a half-remembered dream, all haze and low-slung tension before it starts to tighten its grip.
Lana Crow’s vocal melody refuses to sit still, curling and stretching in ways that feel instinctive rather than showy. There’s a subtle accented lilt in the phrasing, giving the lines an off-centre pull that works fully in its favour. When the chorus lands, instead of exploding it looms, the title carrying a quiet, haunted weight that lingers longer than the hook itself.
Then the guitars arrive, big and undeniable, and the whole thing clicks into place. A sharp, timely protest with bite, and plenty to chew on. Stay tuned for a deeper dive on these pages very soon.
Highroad No. 28 — “C.Esp”
Highroad No. 28, the long-dormant Australian alt-rock outfit, launch into “C.Esp”* like they’re mainlining something heady and slow-burning, all hazy edges and slow-blooming distortion swallowing the room.
The verse slips into a hypnotic sway, drawing from The Cure’s nocturnal pulse, Slowdive’s soft-focus drift, and My Bloody Valentine’s blurred intensity. It feels weightless, but there’s a low, persistent tension humming underneath. Just as it settles in, the band flips the switch. Thick, deliberate riffs tear through the haze, snapping you upright again.
That closing swell of shimmering guitars doesn’t drift off; it holds, glowing with intent. Less nostalgia, more something sharpened for now.
Andrew Schneider—”Astonish Me”
“Astonish Me”* opens like velvet curtains parting in a half-lit theatre, brass glinting before anything else settles.
Andrew Schneider showcases a flair for spectacle here without slipping into posturing. The orchestral swells feel essential, not decorative, nudging it into that same left-field cool Art D’Ecco thrives in, where sidestepping trends puts it ahead. Shades of Stereolab surface in the arrangement, a poised, off-centre sophistication humming underneath.
Vocally, it stays refreshingly unvarnished. No gloss, no tricks, just a warm, direct delivery that pulls you closer.
Ambitious but tightly controlled, “Astonish Me”* earns its sense of occasion.
The Last Dinner Party – “Big Dog”
The Last Dinner Party boot the door clean off its hinges with “Big Dog”*, ditching their usual finery for something far louder within seconds.
Since their debut, they’ve moved with instinct, stacking standout cuts, but this one swerves hard left. The baroque touches still glint, and Lizzie Mayland’s guitar curls with theatrical bite, but the core lands with real weight. The chorus stomps in with Led Zeppelin swagger, brushing up against Soundgarden’s density, all distortion and clenched fists.
Through it all, Abigail Morris remains untouchable, her voice cutting clean through the noise, commanding and confrontational.
Heavier, sharper, and a clear sign they’re not here to stand still.
Bloc Party—”Coming On Strong“
The first thing that hits in Bloc Party’s “Coming On Strong”* is that familiar itch, that flickering energy they bottle so well. It’s like reconnecting with an old friend who’s traded chaos for control but kept the spark.
Kele Okereke’s vocal sits above the fray, steady but charged, while the guitars twitch and snap like loose wires. They lean into restraint, holding something back on purpose, letting tension do the heavy lifting rather than slipping into full “Silent Alarm”* chaos.
Knowing this tees up “Anatomy Of A Brief Romance”* only sharpens the craving. September feels a long way off.
Not a reinvention, but a reminder they still know exactly where to press the nerve.
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