Netflix hit series Emily in Paris is back with new episodes. The comedy continues to deliver laughs, looks, and complicated romantic entanglements. In other words, it’s the perfect watch during the holidays.
The only downside is that the new season flies by in a blur. Before you know it, you’re up to date, and wondering whether Emily’s story may continue in the future. Here’s what we know so far.
Emily in Paris Season 6 Release Date
Netflix hasn’t new renewed Emily in Paris for more episodes. Still, the new season just came out. The streamer is probably waiting to assess fan reaction before making a decision either way.
That said, chances are good for the show to continue. The fresh episodes end on a mini-cliffhanger, and the story feels far from over for everyone involved. As long as Netflix gives the green light, Emily in Paris season 6 could arrive in late 2026.
Emily in Paris Cast
Lily Collins as Emily Cooper
Philippine Leroy-Beaulieu as Sylvie Grateau
Ashley Park as Mindy Chen
Samuel Arnold as Julien
Bruno Gouery as Luc
Lucien Laviscount as Alfie
Eugenio Franceschini as Marcello
Paul Forman as Nicolas de Léon
William Abadie as Antoine Lambert
Lucas Bravo as Gabriel
What Could Happen in Emily in Paris Season 6?
Emily in Paris revolves around the titular character, Emily Cooper, a bubbly American marketing executive.
When she unexpectedly lands her dream job in Paris, Emily is tasked with bringing an American perspective to a prestigious French firm. Once there, she must navigate cultural clashes and workplace politics, while also establishing relationships that will change her life.
As the show progresses, Emily’s adventures include solidifying her career and balancing her romances. In season 5, her world expands beyond Paris as her story takes her to Italy. She’s with Marcello, but her feelings for Gabriel linger. On the professional front, the finale sees Emily make a difficult decision. Mindy also finds herself in romantic turmoil, torn between Alfie and Nico.
Without spoiling too much, let’s just say that the season ends with a blast from the past, and with Emily at a crossroads. Could Greece be calling? If Emily in Paris season 6 happens, that might be the next destination in her European tour.
Fans of dating series have a wild new title to add to their entertainment roster. Badly in Love, which premiered on Netflix this month, brings together individuals with checkered pasts looking for love. Whether or not they’ll find it, it’s up to you to find out.
Badly in Love is having a nice momentum with 1.6 million views over the last week. It’s a Top 10 show in five countries where Netflix is available, as well as the #8 most popular non-English title on the platform. Does that mean we can expect a follow-up?
Badly in Love Season 2 Release Date
Netflix is yet to renew Badly in Love for additional episodes. While viewership numbers are promising, the streamer is probably still gauging fan response. Sometimes, it takes a while before an announcement is made either way.
That said, unscripted series aren’t expensive to produce. As long as viewers keep watching, a sequel is definitely in the mix. Badly in Love season 2 could arrive sometime in 2026.
Badly in Love Cast
Yuuki Luna
Paul Syre
David Cui Cui
Crystal Lee
Josh Han
Francesca Calo
Kevin Matsumoto
What Is Badly in Love About?
Badly in Love is a Japanese reality dating series that throws out the usual romantic clichés to explore connections among a cast of self-described “yankii.” That’s a term used to describe young adults with troublesome pasts, who are linked to Japan’s rebellious subculture.
Over two weeks, 11 singles with fiery personalities are brought together to compete and explore potential relationships. You can expect traditional dating show elements like one-on-one dates and love notes. However, those become more engaging when the participants speak their minds and wear their histories on their sleeves.
In a crowded market, Badly in Love stands out mainly thanks to its cast. As the episodes progress, they do too. The show thrives on raw emotion and personal transformation as the contestants reveal unexpected vulnerabilities.
By the time the end credits roll, you get a sense that the series is as much about emotional growth as it is about finding romance. While the finale doesn’t tie things up as neatly as you might expect, you won’t regret spending time with these fascinating people.
If Badly in Love season 2 happens, it could bring back some of the first season participants, or focus on a roster of fresh faces. Either way, colour us intrigued.
Are There Other Shows Like Badly in Love?
If you enjoyed Badly in Love, you might like some of the other reality dating series available on Netflix. We recommend checking out Love Is Blind, Too Hot to Handle, Better Late Than Single, or Perfect Match.
If you’ve recently gotten into Netflix hit Beyond the Bar, there’s a fresh series that might scratch the same itch. Pro Bono recently premiered on the platform, and it’s already made the Top 10 for non-English shows.
With 1.6 million views last week, the South Korean production is slowly but surely growing its fanbase. Does that mean that more episodes are just a matter of time?
Pro Bono Season 2 Release Date
Pro Bono premiered on Netflix in early December, and episodes are still coming out weekly until mid-January. At the time of writing, there’s no news on whether a sequel might be on the way.
While Korean series are typically a one-season affair, the legal procedural aspect of the series combined with high public interest might score a renewal. If that’s the case, Pro Bono season 2 could arrive in late 2026.
Pro Bono Cast
Jung Kyung-ho as Kang Da-wit
So Joo-yeon as Park Gi-ppeum
Yoon Na-moo as Jang Yeong-sil
Seo Hye-won as Yoo Nan-hee
Kang Hyung-seok as Hwang Jun-woo
What Is Pro Bono About?
Pro Bono centres on Kang Da-wit, an ambitious judge known for his efficiency and star status. His ultimate goal? To rise to the Supreme Court. That’s exactly why he has meticulously built a public image that reeks of success and integrity.
When an unexpected incident derails his career, he is forced to resign from the bench. His reputation in tatters, Kang is offered a second chance as a public interest lawyer on the pro bono team of a major law firm.
That’s where he connects with Park Ki-ppeum, an idealistic lawyer passionate about defending the powerless. Together with a quirky group of colleagues, Kang must learn how to navigate challenging cases and, hopefully, redeem himself.
The series combines legal plots with character drama, while also shining light on a system that often feels stacked against the underdog. Given this premise, there are definitely ways to continue the show past the first installment.
Whether Pro Bono season 2 becomes a thing, however, it remains to be seen. For now, you can still enjoy the weekly releases.
Are you into shows that revolve around troubled but brilliant detectives? Then City of Shadows might become your new obsession.
With great reviews and an appealing cast, the Spanish crime drama has quickly climbed the charts to become one of the most-watched non-English series on Netflix. Whether that means more episodes are on the way, it remains to be seen.
City of Shadows Season 2 Release Date
As of late December, Netflix hasn’t renewed City of Shadows for more episodes. Given that it recently premiered, that’s not particularly surprising. The streamer sometimes waits to assess viewership before making a decision.
With 2.8 million views last week, the drama has made the Top 10 in 12 countries. Even so, it’s listed as a limited series on Netflix, so it might be a one-and-done affair. Otherwise, City of Shadows season 2 might arrive in late 2026.
City of Shadows Cast
Isak Férriz as Milo Malart
Verónica Echegui as Rebeca Garrido
Ana Wagener as Susana Cabrera
Jordi Ballester as Jordi Singla
Manolo Solo as Mauricio Navarro
What Could Happen in City of Shadows Season 2?
A Spanish production set in Barcelona, City of Shadows revolves around a series of macabre crimes. The story begins when a burned body is discovered hanging from the façade of one of Antoni Gaudí’s most famous buildings.
The crime shocks both the public and the police, so Inspector Milo Malart, a detective recently suspended for insubordination, is recalled to duty. Partnered with Rebeca Garrido, Milo must navigate political pressure and media scrutiny as he tries to figure out who is behind the brutal killings.
When more victims emerge, the investigation turns into a tense psychological game of cat-and-mouse. Like every solid crime thriller, City of Shadows seamlessly blends procedural shenanigans with character drama. Before you know it, you’re holding your breath, eager to find out how Milo will uncover what’s truly going on.
By the end of this first batch of episodes, the unsettling finale reveals the culprits. While that brings a sense of closure, Milo could return to look into a new case in City of Shadows season 2. Since the show is based on a book series by Aro Sáinz de la Maza, there’s already material for more.
The question of what constitutes an EP did not go away in 2025. A certain artist who topped our EPs list several years ago and has managed to do so again – with a very different project – stirred up the conversation early in the year, which also included promising debuts, esoteric experiments, and cathartic farewells utilizing the format. Familiar faces in the indie world tested out new projects, while others expanded the world of an earlier record. Everyone threw a bit, or a whole lot, of shoegaze in there. Here are the 25 best EPs of 2025.
25. Parts Work, Parts Work
Hop Along’s Frances Quinlan has stayed relatively quiet since their debut album, Likewise, came out over five years ago, so it’s striking to hear the lines “Even though I’m the one coming back here again/ You could also say I am, in fact, departing” on Parts Work’s first single. A collaboration with Hop Along contributor Kyle Pulley, his Thin Lips bandmate Chrissy Tashjian, and former Hop Along member Dominic Angelella, Quinlan’s new project offers a return that’s slightly daring, slightly bitter, yet altogether satisfying. In that way, the fiddle absorbs an electric guitar’s grittiness on ‘Trenton’, zany riffs diffuse into the sweetest constellation of instruments as Quinlan pleads for help on ‘Clowd’, and no amount of electronic manipulation can overshadow the sheer power of their voice. There’s quite a lot of it on Parts Work, which is just four tracks long, including the playfully indecipherable ‘Max Wrench’. But it underlines how Quinlan’s strange grip on language mirrors their grasp on existence. “There was always room for my way to being alive,” they sing on the closer, “The method is mine/ The method is alright.”
she’s green make the kind of shoegaze that tends to melt into the atmosphere, not quite as noisy or hooky as their recent tourmates in Glixen and Softcult. But on their latest EP Chrysalis, they prove there’s real muscle and heart to their Slowdive-coded aesthetic. Zofia Smith’s iridescent voice reaches too many high notes to fade into the background, giving weight to familiar tropes in the genre: ghosts taking on the shape of distorted guitars (‘Graze’), love as a delicate daydream (‘Silhouette’). The visceral drumming and pummeling during some of the softer moments suggest it’s often the beautiful dreams that land a punch to the gut. Rather than shrouding them in layers of gauze, she’s green remind us they can’t be buried for too long.
Dancing Shoes is knowingly not Nilüfer Yanya’s most spirited work. A sense of weariness creeps in on the opener ‘Kneel’, and it never fully dissipates. The EP’s title strikes you as somewhat ironic, not least considering the industrial beats that kick in at some of its most pensive moments, like the lines “Heaven knows the way you hold me/ Let ‘em know I feel this lonely” on ‘Cold Heart’. But these holdovers from last year’s My Method Actor are far from undercooked. Yanya and songwriting partner Wilma Archer flesh them out in ways that twist them out of their icy shapes: the searing guitars on ‘Kneel’, the swelling distortion on ‘Where to Look’. They remain lonely songs for all their embellishments, but they deserved the light of day.
We lost a lot of bands in 2025, but none offered a means to grieve as cathartic as Porridge Radio. If one word could summarize the band’s music, “catharsis” would be the one – but The Machine Starts to Sing, an EP comprising songs recorded during the sessions for last year’s Clouds in the Sky They Will Always Be There for Me, is more subdued in its delivery. Apart from the six-minute opening title track, the rest of the songs tend to downplay their climactic buildups by relying mostly on acoustic instrumentation. Even the closer ‘I’ve Got a Feeling (Stay Lucky)’, which swells with organic intensity, avoids blown-out distortion. “No need to talk about/ No need to cry about it/ Like dust, it all just blows away,” Dana Margolin sings on ‘Don’t Want to Dance’. Porridge Radio, of course, are the gale-force wind – and the best we can do is keep listening.
lucre emerged, sort of ethereally and exclusively on YouTube, as a New Year’s present, a small window into the seemingly vast collaborative world of Dean Blunt, Elias Rønnenfelt, and Vegyn. The 16-minute EP was subsequently released on streaming services, but its sequencing did little to detract from its transient, timeless mood. Rønnenfelt does an astounding job sinking into Rønnenfelt’s slithery, shapeshifting guitar work, which seems precisely made to both accommodate and throw off his dissociative balladeering. It helps when Vegyn locks in a groove, as in ‘3’, while the almost straightforward post-punk of ‘4’ belies a world of disappointments in fragmented poetry: “Unified in slumber/ Wrecking sudden fame.” lucre sleeps it off in the hopes of a luscious dream.
The EP format is a great vessel for left-field electronic music; last year, releases by Djrum and Verraco earned a spot on our list for their intricate, unpredictable grooves. Aside from Djrum’s full-length follow-up to Meaning’s Edge, gyrofield’s Suspension of Belief contains some of the year’s most mind-bendingly layered percussion: misty and enigmatic but always attractive. It seems to seep out of the subconscious until Bristol’s Flo State guests on ‘Rorschach’ to give it language, reflecting on “this radical wholeness.” But gyrofield – the 22-year-old producer aka Kiana Li – really honours the format by closing with the most off-kilter track, ‘Brinjal’, which lurches so eerily you could imagine billy woods rapping over it. It’s enough to affirm Li will already have ventured into new territory by the next release.
Though these six songs are technically B-sides that didn’t make Wishy’s debut LP Triple Seven, a couple more and they’d have a compelling full-length follow-up in their hands. Yet this is a band that excels at and experiments with the EP format, as evidenced by 2023’s Paradise, which made our list that year and was compiled with the new one as Paradise on Planet Popstar on sky blue vinyl. As the title suggests, Wishy are on top of the world here – or maybe somewhere on the outskirts of it. Spellbound and starry-eyed, the record approaches euphoria with the shakiness of living in the real world, soaring and shimmering but willing to undercut its own sweetness. It’s elevated, most of all, by Nina Pitchkites and Kevin Krauter’s dynamic interplay, which often frames the songs in conversation with each other. “Book a flight to the sun/ ‘Cause I’d rather be burned alive/ If I thought it would catch your eye,” Krauter sings on the title track, while Pitchkites laments, on the bubbly ‘Chaser’, “I’m just another one of your trips around the sun.” For the listener, at least, the ride’s worthwhile.
For now, Florence Road wear their influences on their sleeves, but few rising acts did so as proudly and confidently as the Irish quartet on their debut release, Fall Back. The EP opens with their poppiest song, ‘Break the Girl’, which is straight out of the Olivia Rodrigo playbook – and the band opened for Rodrigo this year. Rodrigo’s producer, Dan Nigro, is one of a few big-ticket producers who contributed to the EP, co-producing the wistfully lush ‘Caterpillar’. That one remind you of Phoebe Bridgers? That’s her collaborator Marshall Vore in the credits of the theatrical closer ‘Heavy’. But none of those facts are as remarkable as Florence Road’s fine-tuned emotionality, which makes them sound like they’ve been doing it for as long as any of their inspirations. But at their most spiteful, on the breakup anthem ‘Goodnight’, Lily Aron lets the goofiness slip, and you hope this kind of youthful charm never eludes them.
It’s hard to believe that Moin’s debut LP Moot!, given the band’s evolution over the past four years, now almost seems like a conventional post-rock record. Three albums in and the London trio continues disassembling its rhythm-focused experiments, leaning further into jazz and mutating their approach as they bring in new collaborators. Or rather, on the gripping Belly Up EP, bring past collaborators deeper into their world: Qatari-American writer Sophia Al-Maria, who contributed to their previous album You Never End, appears on ‘See’, a killer of an opening track that also features the frantic saxophone of Ben Vince. “To obliterate the edge of my understanding in the way that things oughta be,” as Al-Maria puts it, seems to encapsulate Moin’s M.O.: interweaving the furious with the languid, the way impending doom masquerades as routine. Even when they create a mood of obvious disorientation on ‘I Don’t Know Where to Look’, they’re quick to supplant it with another one. Look at it a few years from now, they seem to suggest, and it’ll sound completely different.
Even if you’re not familiar with the solo music of the two people behind Witch Post – Alaska Reid from Livingston, Montana, and Dylan Fraser from Livingston, Scotland – you can hear them discovering a certain kind of freedom on Beast. Reid, who could have leaned further into pop after two records with production from A.G. Cook – one of which made our EPs list back in 2020 – lets loose with a range of grunge, dance-punk, and ‘90s alt-rock influences, still very dreamlike but less steeped in her diaristic lyrics. And her voice enchants just as much when it intersects with Fraser’s, especially on the stripped-back ‘Spell’, where she responds to his plea for magic by cooing into her verse. “There’s beauty in the rust/ There’s a song in the rust,” they sing on the next song, and polished as its darkness may seem, their raw dynamic has yielded at least a few memorable tunes.
You’d be forgiven for mistaking once more as the work of an unsigned artist. xaviersobased’s dizzying, off-kilter effort is in fact his first as an Atlantic signee, even though there are at least a few moments where you can imagine the New York rapper-producer shrugging off the influence of any major label exec. Who knows about the album on the way, but once more doesn’t dilute so much barrage the listener with his nonconformist attitude, reaching its apex on the OsamaSon collab ‘uncomfy’, which suggests that Deafheaven’s euphoric fusion of shoegaze and black metal wasn’t inventive enough. xaviersobased’s gleeful abandon elicits a smile at the most nonsensical juxtapositions, like the gunshot beats threaded over relatively wholesome rapping on ‘red snapper’. You’re advised not to overanalyze this idiosyncratic flurry; just hope it’s retained in whatever comes next.
Grumpy make sure we remember their unnerving idiosyncrasies first. Their new EP Piebald, which doubles down on the contradictions of last year’s Wolfed, is bookended by its most eerie, glitchy songs, affirming the grotesque aesthetic of the band’s visuals. Make no mistake, though: these songs are about love, though the kind that’s warped in unconventional, often uncomfortable shapes. Sandwiched between them, though, are tracks like the infectious and uncomplicated ‘Crush’, which delights at the thought of complete lack of supervision, and ‘Proud of You’, which soars like a surefire hit. But it still doesn’t get better than Grumpy at their absolute rawest, a vulnerability rooted in their dynamic as a band: Like a darker spin on a Katy Kirby song, ‘Knot’ finds Heaven Schmitt singing “Holding you last night was worse than holding no one” as if inside the belly of a beast. That’s where the horror spawns.
Glixen’s take on shoegaze is crushing, ethereal, lustful – and it’s the delicate sensuality of their music, especially on Quiet Pleasures, that separates them from many of their contemporaries and connects them intimately to their forebears. With production from Sonny Diperri (My Bloody Valentine, DIIV, M83), the follow-up to 2023’s She Only Said finds the Phoenix band moving in a more abrasive direction, but in “chasing subdued feelings,” as Aislinn Ritchie sings on ‘avoid’, you can also hear the subtle nuances they introduce to their sound, which is subsumed by the eponymous quiet on the closing track, ‘lick the star’. “She wants a taste of the noise,” it goes, “forever drowning for more.” Let’s hope we get more Glixen sooner rather than later.
Love Is a Kingdom, asserts Tems on her latest EP, and it can be a lonely one. A year after coming through with her official debut Born in the Wild, the Nigerian star surprised fans with a seven-track effort produced almost entirely by herself, and inward-looking as it may be, its production is as multi-dimensional as her singing – not to mention her depictions of love. The tempo may not vary much, but you can hear the quiet determination of ‘First’ blossom into the steeliness of ‘Big Daddy’, the tender uncertainty of ‘I’m Not Sure’ breeding the bemused desperation of ‘What You Need’. Even when coasting on sumptuous, uncomplicated romance, there’s a palpable temperature rise between the neighboring ‘Lagos Love’ and ‘Mine’, and it’s not long before she gets existential about it on the acoustic closer. When she sings about all the emotion at her disposal, you know she’d travel great lengths not just to protect it, but keep its borders fluid and soft.
Scarlet Rae’s debut EP gets heavy pretty fast, both musically and emotionally; the opener, ‘A World Where She Left Me Out’, was the first song Rae wrote after her sister died. The collection finds bliss in radiant, ethereal hooks while avoiding the cloudy lyricism that often pervades them, bluntly enticed, depressed, and disoriented by the range of emotions that accompany grief. “Hope and doom, they tend to balance, right?” she sings on ‘The Reason I Could Sleep Forever’. That balance hardly ever checks out, but what’s striking about No Heavy Goodbyes is how total depletion can act like a light switch, teasing the words and melodies out of the darkness. Read our Artist Spotlight interview with Scarlet Rae.
Jane Remover’s Revengeseekerz has been cemented as one of the best albums of the year, with the artist’s Venturing record Ghostholding earning at least an honourable mention. But they couldn’t help but close out the year by unleashing the project with such pop potential that they were hesitant to flesh it out into a full-length. Still, ♡ (pronounced 🫶, per the artist) arrived to the delight of fans holding Jane Remover’s 2024 singles in high regard, giving them a home by slightly working them and adding two new songs to the mix. “I build a home from every vision,” they sing on the fantastic ‘Magic I Want U’, meaning they’re free to tweak and explode it at any moment. But more than anything, ♡ benefits from the blissful marriage of these songs, which are high on infatuation and playful irreverence: frying laughter and fireworks, pasting blink-and-you;ll-miss-it samples, splicing a reggaeton beat to a shoegaze song for the hell of it. Even reduced to an EP, it boasts hooks for days. “Said, ‘I wanna make it to Christmas’/ But I fall off the bone,” Jane sings of a relationship on ‘Dream Sequence’. At least when it comes to her music, emotional preservation appears effortless.
Helado Negro’s latest project is generally uptempo and beat-forward, but those qualities dissipate right when Roberto Carlos Lange seems to be answering its titular prompt. The last sound you hear before you die may resemble ‘Zenith’, the EP’s ambient, celestial highlight, which could also be the sound of the world dawning in. “When I wake up in the morning, I can listen to my ears tuning in to the world around me,” the musician said in press materials. “It feels like a blanket being pulled off my eardrums.” The first three songs on The Last Sound on Earth may be jittery and spaced-out, but they exude a blanketless kind of comfort, the way a day in shambles can still inspire hope. It doesn’t end with the last sound, after all. Lange smoothly picks up the groove again on ‘Don’t Give It Up Now’, holding the listener by the hand: “Let’s go.”
A lot of Lise Ivanova’s erratic non-sequiturs may be too esoteric to decode even with a lyric sheet in your hands, but it doesn’t take long for her to wield the word that could sum up joy is no knocking nation: relentless. (It’s how “john the conqueror” is described on the opening ‘it’s a whole “who shot john” story’.) The Chicago post-hardcore outfit’s nervy, pummeling follow-up to their debut EP compound turbulence flexing for the heat is bound to stop you in your tracks, even if you’re very well-versed in the hardcore tradtionsit trades in. Its radical spirit isn’t so straightforward, its jazziness freer than that of contemporaries like Maruja. Jill Roth’s saxophone can be groovy or merely percussive, expressive or eruptive; Ivanova’s delivery isn’t just incendiary, but capable of making the music’s abrasive feel physical. No song on joy is more astounding of an exercise in the band’s extreme dynamics than ‘new guy (big softie)’, the EP’s centerpiece: relentless, yet thrillingly exacting.
Instead of a traditional press statement, DJ Python announced i was put on this earth with a philosophical conversation between two unnamed people – yearners, if you will – one of which says, “I wish we could all just lay around, do nothing, talk about ideas that lead to nothing, not bothered by conclusion, not driven by production.” The languid beauty of the EP feels like a direct expression of that desire, putting it more in conversation with the vaporous electronic pop of the producer’s Natural Wonder Beauty Concept project than the reggaeton and dembow experiments that put him on the map. On his first release for XL Recordings, he tries out singing with the same hazy intentionality, swooping so low on ‘Coquine’ that his voice nearly rubs against the bass. Even when he collaborates with reggaeton star Isabella Lovestory on ‘Besos Robados’, he sticks to the barren yet beautiful mood. And when his vocals are nowhere to be heard on the closer ‘Elio’s Lived Behind My House Forever’, his synth tapestry sounds like a dozen shades of the letter z. You could never call it sleepy, though – just hypnotic.
Love Is a Dog From Hell is as wickedly strange as its title suggests, no less cutesy than its cover art, and way catchier than you’d expect from indie rock this spiked with hardcore and metal influences. From the breathy heaviness of ‘Liadfh’ to the irresistibly cacophonous banger ‘commie bf’, forty winks own their aimlessness by snapping it into easily digestible songs that are collectively more endearing than the mess that’s inspired them. It’s effective thanks in part to its short runtime, but the mathy catharsis of the closing Noise’, complete with frantic guitar soloing, hints at the band’s grand ambitions. If you can’t change hell, you might as well broadcast it.
Everyone heaping praise on this year’s releases from Water From Your Eyes and This Is Lorelei should show some love to fantasy of a broken heart, whose latest EP is even better than their frenetic 2024 debut Feats of Engineering. Mixed by Nate Amos (Water From Your Eyes and This is Lorelei), of the aforementioned bands with which the duo have spent months on the road, Chaos Practicioner refines the rhythmic and melodic puzzles of their songwriting – solving more than it leaves in pieces – without compromising on its oddball humour; the bossa nova-inflected ‘Victory Path’ begins interpolating ‘La Vie En Rose’ to court the opening line “Swish me around like Listerine.” As densely colourful as the collection is, vocalists Al Nardo and Bailey Wollowitz earnestly embrace not just the dynamic interplay of their voices but a pervasive darkness; the final track and standout is called ‘We Confront the Demon in Mysterious Ways’, but their music has never been more transparent in its exorcism of toxic human forces. “I don’t know what I want from the moment/ I say softly as I trace your eyelids,” Wollowitz sings, in striking vulnerability that contrasts a boisterous moment like the Brutus VIII’s guest spot. But it’s true, what the Slow Hollows member joins in to say: You’ll want just a little more.
If MSPAINT’s debut album, Post-American, was synth-punk with an emphasis on punk, the No Separation EP leans harder on synth – which doesn’t say much coming from the proudly guitarless band from Hattiesburg, Mississippi. The bass is distorted, the drums electrifying, Dedee’s vociferous delivery and self-reflective lyrics turning every song into an anthem – but they all started as demos from synth player Nick Panella, and you can tell. As brief as this record is, Panella’s wide-reaching experimentation stretches the boundaries of MSPAINT’s sound in ways that should energize their sophomore full-length, especially as it’s amplified by production from Julian Cashwan Pratt and Harlan Steed of Show Me the Body. It swirls and screeches around the acceptance, on ‘Surveillance’, that we’re “living on a scorched earth,” perhaps the most hair-raising moment in the band’s discography. Emphasis on living.
2025 was almost as big a year for seven-piece bands that invited comparisons to Black Country, New Road as it was for that band itself. At least for two of them: one, a Michigan-based outfit that put out its self-titled debut album, and the other – the one that actually sprung from the same Windmill scene as BC,NR – which released two great EPs. While their name may allude to the often volatile nature of such explosive, emotionally intense post-rock acts, there is certainly a sense of continuity between Plan 75 and Plan 76, whose ambition never masks their framing as scene-setters for an even bigger project. Here, dramatically baroque instrumentation meets modern references to Jubilee YouTube series, Zadie Smith books, Skins, and potentially the now-Windmill-adjacent Caroline Polachek and scenemates deathcrash. From the theatrical flair of a murder ballad like ‘The Strip’ to the 8-minute epic ‘Wake Robin’, both the nerve and craft behind Plan 75 feels deep-seated; even if the music sometimes evokes a sinking ship, you hope they’ll bear out the storm.
Tracey – “two friends making music,” according to their Bandcamp bio, looking like “ヽ(•‿•)ノヽ(•‿•)ノ” – waste no time delivering the rush. ‘Sex life’ slides in all harsh and playful, an obvious banger of an opener that knows it’s got your attention, even if you know little to nothing about the people who made it. But then the track augments its hyperpop cheekiness with a dreamy sensuality, its crystalline keys broadcasting its signal off into the ether, where the rest of the EP coasts. Lush, cloudy, and intoxicating, these four songs cover more ground than most of the year’s albums but present a unique sensibility, painting with the sky as its canvas. In just over five minutes, they’ve ventured so far that when one voice sings “look down,” the distance seems incalculable. But every song here warms itself up to you like it could be your next favorite, never appearing too alien or enigmatic. Even as a massive synth yearns over chugging guitars, which erupt into fireworks, closer ‘Take Care’ feels palpably human. Coming from Pitchfork’s label of the year, AD93, we can expect way more from Tracey, ヽ(•‿•)ノ or not.
It would be natural to view Perverts, the daring follow-up to Ethel Cain’s 2022 breakout Preacher’s Daughter, as a response to, and rejection of, everything about success that might register as noise, not least because it was accompanied by a Tumblr post entitled ‘The Consequence of Audience’. Preacher’s Daughter amassed a fervent following, and Perverts no doubt poses a challenge to the segment of Cain’s audience that has trouble engaging with the artist’s persona in the absence of unambiguous lore and soaring melodies. Yet the 90-minute project – released at the start of the year but hardly overshadowed by the proper album that succeeded it – doesn’t feel like a departure so much as an opportunity for Hayden Anhedönia to home in on the esoteric darkness she holds a deep reverence for, the eerie dissonance and muffled silences that were seen tangential rather than core to her songwriting. Read the full review.
There has always been something so uncomfortable about the space between admiration and accountability. I imagined Dilara Fındıkoğlu standing in that space last Friday. Interns, Glassdoor reviewers, and fans, including me, were there too, just a few steps aside. I could almost hear a girl ask her friend if good, in fact, very good, design is supposed to make us look away. No one moved, and neither did I. Consider the question answered.
Promised this when the Vanguard Award landed on her shelf, well, the couture curtain has lifted. It all actually started with whispers and Louis Pisano, a fashion journalist and watchdog, who kept tabs on the designer’s Glasdoor reviews for years. Pisano nudged the conversation forward, former staff began speaking out, and Fashionista keeps the full dossier. By the books, the studio’s staff count stayed perfectly consistent. According to UK government filings from 2021 to 2025, Dilara Findikoglu Limited lists only her and one other rising star. Off the books, however, it seems the label leans on a far larger crew to secure silver chains on Kim Kardashian’s enviable dresses. We’ve taken the liberty of renaming the rest of our cast.
Our first star, let’s call her Mary, described some of her time at the Findikoglu studio to Fashionista, where she says she worked full-time under an NDA she claims she never met eyes with again, presumably filed away somewhere between myth and a vintage desk drawer. She paints a studio powered almost entirely by unpaid stamina, “the entire brand is built on interns,” she shared with the publication. No travel covered, no meals, just 16-hour days and expectations stitched in silence. Racially charged comments allegedly flew around, with “ghetto” reportedly tossed casually toward Black models. Interns according to her, were sent out shopping with company cards that declined on cue, unless the mission involved prosecco or Gucci flip-flops. When materials didn’t arrive, work didn’t stop, it just ran later. Much later. At crunch time, interns were reportedly sewing in moving cabs, hand-finishing garments en route to handovers. No pressure, couture edition.
Stephanie remembers the “9-to-9” grind like a survival sport. Student, intern, same story, no breaks, no bathroom, barely food. One morning she allegedly fainted on a model, still had to finish the fitting before being told to “go eat when you finish, you can see that this is not done, you finish that first”. She claims she was tasked with pattern cutting, draping, prepping PR, booking cabs, even getting cleaners, all while keeping one eye on the phone for last-minute whims. Uber banned her boss? No problem, Stephanie ran the logistics solo. Twenty-five Ubers a day, apparently. By the end of two years, she quit, “utterly drained,” throwing up each morning before work. Fashion’s real price tag maybe?
Katy, NDA-signed and all, navigated a studio where English was mandatory, unless you whispered in Turkish behind someone’s back, apparently that was fine. Long days, errands, prep, last-minute chaos, all crucial, all invisible. Steven’s hours stretched just as long, the pressure just as relentless, though he somehow dodged the direct wrath. Together they describe a place where you were indispensable but off the radar at the same time, and occasionally lectured on proper English.
DesignerKarina Bond recently went on TikTok about similar studio chaos and “real-life Devil wears Prada” she joked, later confirming to Fashionista it was all about Dilara, no further comment. “Jokes on me because I heard about the reputation of this designer before I started” she quips, having survived a mere three days. Allegedly, a vase once flew at an intern. Bond raced through sewing just to grab a bite, when she dared ask the manager if she could eat, she got laughed at and told to finish first. She finally left at 3 a.m., with zero expenses covered.
How uncomfortable are you willing to feel for great fashion? Me? A lot, honestly. Body-wise only. The rest, the chaos, the unpaid hustle, the odd flying vase, I’ll leave to someone else’s couture adventure. Fashion will always ask a lot. Here’s hoping it never forgets the hands who make it possible. Awareness has always been the first stitch toward fairness.
For many Albanian families living abroad, the holiday season is a mix of routines that feel familiar and challenges that don’t. In December, kitchens fill with the smell of ballokume and byrek, relatives travel across borders, and conversations drift between the language of the host country and the Albanian tongue that binds generations. This year, more than sweets or sweaters, one meaningful gift idea has gained real appeal: access to Albanian television that fits modern diaspora life.
Whether it’s streaming shows on a phone or catching Albanian TV online together after a festive meal, gifting a subscription can create moments that matter—not just on Christmas Day, but throughout the year. And for those who prefer mobile viewing, the option to download Albanian TV through the official app makes access even easier.
Below are five reasons why Albanian-language TV makes a relevant and appreciated holiday gift for diaspora families.
1. Keeps Language Active in Everyday Life
Language is central to cultural identity, especially for second- and third-generation children who grow up surrounded by the host country’s language. Research on media consumption in Albanian communities shows that television remains one of the strongest daily connections to the Albanian tongue, helping preserve fluency and familiarity with idioms, accents, and expressions that might otherwise fade over time.
A subscription that easily delivers access to Albanian TV channels means children hear and see their native language in a lived context—be it through dramas, music shows, or talk programs. For parents, that kind of exposure can support language skills without turning cultural heritage into homework.
2. Offers Shared Viewing Moments Across Generations
Watching TV together can be one of the rare activities that brings different generations to the same room without conflict. For a teenager, a comedy series in Albanian might be a fun break after homework. For a grandparent, a news bulletin or music program can prompt reflection on traditions.
Gifting access to Albanian television creates opportunities for those shared moments. It can spark conversations about customs like vallja e nuses (the traditional bride’s dance) or the meaning of besa (a pledge of honor). Those moments don’t just entertain—they help connect young people with stories and values that shape family history.
3. Fits Holiday Schedules and Busy Lives
The holidays aren’t just busy because of gatherings—they’re busy because life never stops. Children still have school projects, parents juggle work and travel plans, and relatives often live in different time zones.
Modern subscription packages with features like time-shift viewing and playback let families tailor their TV time (shiko tv shqip). If the big holiday program airs during a late dinner or while someone is travelling, recordings and on‑demand access make it possible to watch later. That kind of flexibility means the gift lasts beyond the holiday itself, fitting into real daily rhythms rather than a specific broadcast schedule.
4. It’s Inclusive: Mobile and Family Options Available
Not all households use TV the same way. Some families are centered around one living room screen. Others are more dispersed, with teens watching on phones and younger children on tablets.
This Christmas, options like mobile‑only subscription packs are especially practical for singles, students, or frequent travelers. These plans let recipients watch from a phone or tablet wherever they are. At the same time, family‑wide packages that support multiple devices under one account appeal to households with mixed viewing needs. Everyone gets what they want without competing for screen time.
This flexibility isn’t just a perk—it acknowledges that diaspora life is mobile and multi‑screen, not tied to one place or one way of watching.
5. A Thoughtful, Lasting Gift That Works All Year
Unlike many holiday presents that sit unused after a few days, TV access becomes part of routine life. A yearly subscription means 12 months of connection to Albanian culture, stories, news, and language.
During this festive season, one notable offer makes gifting especially timely. NimiTV’s New Year Sale is running through December, with special subscription options that make a thoughtful gift more affordable:
Premium Package: €179.99 for 12 months
Basic Package: €99.99 for 12 months
These packages give access to a wide selection of Albanian-language content across devices, and can be gifted to family members near or far—bringing familiar voices and familiar shows into homes where tradition matters.
Why Legal, Reliable Access Matters
Holiday generosity doesn’t stop at convenience: reliability and legality matter too. In the past, some viewers turned to unofficial sources with shaky quality or unstable access, often causing frustration when the signal dropped or channels disappeared. Legal subscription services built for diaspora needs minimize those risks.
NimiTV – the largest and most trusted Albanian media platform in Europe – provides over 250+ Albanian-language channels, including news, cultural content, children’s shows, and family favorites. It’s designed to work on Smart TVs, phones, and tablets, with family‑friendly features like live recording, playback, time-shift TV, and smart search in Albanian. Most importantly for families abroad, it’s the only legal provider of Albanian TV outside Albanian territories, giving peace of mind along with entertainment.
We have reached a point where passive entertainment feels a little outdated. We don’t just want to watch, listen, or scroll anymore. We want to be there while it’s happening and actually contribute something to the moment. Whether it is film, music, or gaming, creators are picking up real-time tools to pull their communities right into the creative process.
For a lot of artists, this isn’t really about technology. It is about changing how they create. These platforms let viewers change the ending, shift the mood, or steer the ship. You see this dynamic working well in formats like interactive live casino games, where real-time choices dictate the flow of the action. Those same ideas, the responsiveness, shared timing, and simply being present together are now shaping how musicians and storytellers connect with us.
Live music that adjusts to the crowd
Musicians have always fed off the crowd’s energy to decide what song to play next. Now, tools let that happen even when we aren’t in the same room. Livestreams are letting fans vote on arrangements or suggest changes on the fly. It mimics that in the room feeling but opens it up to anyone with an internet connection.
Electronic producers are even testing interfaces where fans can tweak the sound or trigger effects during the set. It stops being a one-way broadcast and becomes a loop between the artist and the audience. This helps bridge the gap between the perfection of the studio and the unpredictability of a live show. It feels collaborative, but the artist is still guiding the experience.
Film, TV, and interactive storytelling
This collaborative spirit is hitting storytelling, too. Filmmakers are sharing rough cuts earlier, letting dedicated fans weigh in on pacing or favorite scenes before the final edit is locked in. In gaming, it goes even further. Players are voting on character paths or shaping the world itself. It gives the audience a stake in the story without taking the wheel entirely away from the creator. Even digital theatre is adapting, with actors responding to live prompts, meaning no two shows are ever quite the same.
Art that embraces participation
The art world has been drifting toward participation for a while, but these tools accelerated the shift. Virtual exhibitions let us walk through spaces together, changing what we see as a group. Installations respond to how we move or how many of us are standing there. The audience isn’t just looking at the work; they are the variable that makes the work complete.
For the artist, the appeal is the unpredictability. You build the structure, but you let the people surprise you. It causes the work to adjust, often leading to outcomes the creator simply wouldn’t have reached alone. This doesn’t dissolve authorship. It expands it, giving the audience a chance to participate in a way that feels controlled yet genuinely expressive.
With more creators using real-time tools, the line between the performer and the participant is blurring. Audiences are actively shaping what they watch, hear, and explore now. The experience doesn’t just end when you consume the content; it continues because people are contributing to it. Creators are seeing this shift and finding new ways to engage communities that want to be part of the action rather than just observing it.
Whether you are a karaoke enthusiast, a budding music producer, or a content creator, there is often a need to strip a song down to its bones. In the past, removing vocals from a track was a technical nightmare that often resulted in “ghostly” echoes or muffled instrumentals.
However, thanks to the evolution of Artificial Intelligence, you can now remove vocals from any song with AI for free in a matter of seconds. In this article, we will explore why AI has changed the game and how you can use professional-grade tools like EaseUS Vocal Remover to get the job done effortlessly.
Background: The Evolution of Vocal Removal
Before AI, vocal removal relied on a technique called phase cancellation. Since vocals are typically recorded in the “center” of a stereo track, software would flip the phase of one channel to cancel out everything in the middle. The problem? This also deleted the bass, kick drums, and any other instrument centered in the mix, leaving behind a tinny, low-quality mess.
Fast forward to 2025, and AI-powered source separation has revolutionized the industry. Modern AI doesn’t just “filter” sound; it “understands” it. By training on millions of songs, AI models can identify the specific spectral signature of a human voice versus a guitar or a drum kit, allowing for surgical extraction without damaging the surrounding music.
The Core Highlights of AI Vocal Remover
Why is everyone switching to AI-based tools? The advantages are clear when you look at the core highlights of the technology:
1. Separate the Vocals within One Minute
Time is the most valuable resource for creators. Traditional audio editing could take hours of manual EQing and masking. With an AI vocal remover, the process is automated. You simply upload your file, and the AI processes the entire track in the background. Most songs are separated into clean vocal and instrumental stems in less than 60 seconds, making it the fastest way to create a backing track.
2. High-Precision Separation of Vocals
The “High-Precision” factor is what separates a gimmick from a professional tool. Advanced AI algorithms, like those used in EaseUS Vocal Remover, can handle:
Complex Mixes: Isolating vocals even when they are layered with heavy reverb or overlapping with similar frequencies (like a synthesizer).
Artifact Reduction: Traditional methods often left “underwater” sounds. High-precision AI ensures that the remaining instrumental sounds natural, crisp, and ready for use in a professional project.
Acapella Extraction: It’s not just about removing vocals; it’s about isolating them. You get a crystal-clear acapella track that is perfect for remixes and mashups.
Who is Suitable for Using the AI Vocal Remover?
You don’t need to be a sound engineer to benefit from this technology. AI vocal removers are designed for:
Karaoke Fans: Create high-quality backing tracks for your favorite hits that aren’t available on official karaoke platforms.
DJs and Producers: Extract clean acapellas to create unique remixes, bootlegs, or to sample a specific vocal hook.
Content Creators: If you’re a YouTuber or TikToker, you might need a specific instrumental for background music without the distraction of lyrics.
Music Students: Isolate instrumentals to hear the intricate details of a guitar solo or a bassline for practice and transcription.
How to Use AI Vocal Remover?
If you are looking for a seamless, high-quality, and free experience, EaseUS Vocal Remover is the gold standard in 2025. It is a web-based tool, meaning you don’t have to download heavy software, and it supports a wide variety of formats including MP3, WAV, and even video files like MP4.
Step-by-Step Guide to Removing Vocals:
Visit the Website: Navigate to the EaseUS Online Vocal Remover page.
Upload Your File: Click the “Choose File” button or simply drag and drop your song (audio or video) into the upload area.
Automatic AI Processing: Once the file is uploaded, the AI will automatically begin analyzing the track. It uses deep learning models to identify and split the stems.
Preview and Download: After a few seconds, you will see two separate tracks: Vocals and Instrumentals. You can play them directly in the browser to check the quality.
Save Your Work: Click the “Download” button to save the instrumental (for karaoke) or the vocal (for remixing) to your device.
Pro Tip: For those who work offline or need to process large batches of songs, EaseUS also offers a desktop version called EaseUS VideoKit, which includes the same powerful AI separation technology alongside a full suite of video and audio editing tools.
Conclusion
Removing vocals from a song has moved from a complex technical chore to a one-click reality. Whether you need a clean instrumental for a live performance or a pristine acapella for your next production, AI tools have made professional results accessible to everyone.
EaseUS Vocal Remover stands out as the most user-friendly and efficient choice in 2025, offering high-precision separation for free. Stop settling for low-quality “vocal reducers” and let AI do the heavy lifting for you.
The real fate of Ophelia, Shakespeare’s heroine who goes into deep grief after the death of her lover Hamlet? She drowns herself. As captured by painter John Everett Millais in 1851-1852, she’s surrounded by verdant greenery and flowers rich with colour. But while her milky, deathly pallor suggests death, her open hands and mouth hint at a hopefulness – that in death she will be reunited with a love that proved so ruinous.
“I’m drowning,” sings Andrea Thuesen on ‘Water In A Pond’, near the end of Snuggle‘s phenomenal debut Goodbyehouse. “Water in a pond, it feels like an ocean.” Like Ophelia, Thuesen is suffocated by sweet memories: endless summer days, the clear-eyed optimism of youth. The song’s dreamy waltz is actually about the slow death of childhood.
The circumstances that led to Thuesen and her musical partner Vilhem Strange to come together to create ‘Water in a Pond’ and its accompanying album Goodbyehouse are fittingly dour. “We were kind of lost when we started playing music together,” says Strange over Zoom, who speaks slowly like he’s walking in snow. “I was playing in (Danish band) Liss. And I had a really close relationship with the singer (Søren Holm). We would be in the studio all the time, making music together for many years. But then he died (in 2021, at the age of 25),” he pauses, “and there was a lot of music that never came out.”
From this tragedy and unfulfilled potential, he found another kindred spirit. “I found the same sort of songwriting connection with Andrea.” Today the duo finish each other’s sentences and have the sort of reverence for each other that comes from knowing that their creative kismet is rare. “We can experiment musically because this is a safe space for us,” Strange explains.
While her bandmate was mourning the slow unravelling of his former group, Thuesen was dealing with the sudden closure of a cafe she had a deep connection with. “It was like a second home,” she explains, “and when it closed it was like saying goodbye to a childhood home. I was very upset.” This and the fact Strange’s childhood home was being sold led to the album’s portmanteau – Goodbyehouse. “The title encapsulates a lot of these feelings of leaving home, being excited for the new but also feeling the melancholy and sadness.”
The band’s ascent has been retold as part of Copenhagen’s elegantly happening music scene with fellow artists Smerz, Elias Rønnenfelt, and Erika de Casier. But the reality is less collegiate and romantic. “It’s not part of this grand movement out of Copenhagen like Laurel Canyon, or something like that,” Thuesen explains. “You’ve got to realise that Copenhagen is this tiny city so it’s impossible to make music in this city without knowing each other in some way. The ones we know are like close work colleagues. But we’re not really part of that. We’re kind of the outsiders.”
Outsiders too in their inner circle: ‘Water in a Pond’ finds its protagonist recalling the carefree moments before adulthood dragged them under. “I wrote the lyrics at a time when a lot of my very close friends were starting to buy apartments with their partners and started talking about having kids,” Thuesen says. The song’s wistful lyrics (‘Days are passing by/ What seemed to last a lifetime/ Happened in the blink of an eye/ growing up is such a drag’) pop a nail into the red balloon of their childhood. “I felt like the ground under my feet was crumbling. I’m a very nostalgic person and I’m not very good at change. When things start to change I get very anxious.”
But if life gives you quarter-life-crisis flavoured lemons, what do you do but make lemonade? The duo replicated the complexity of these emotions with a sonic palette where futurism meets a ghostwalk through the past, Bacharachian orchestration meets pitch shifted vocal; shoegaze-ish hums meets Wild West tremolo and scaley murder ballad sounds. Thuesen’s plaintive vocal is equally collapsible: at times coquettish, filled with ennui or a stilted, performative sexiness.
Snuggle’s unique cut-and-paste working methods meant that the analog-meets-digital production gives Goodbyehouse a fresh sound. “A lot of these songs are written very traditionally like folk songs and then we take it to the studio,” Strange explains. “We have two guitars and we will improvise a lot, like long blocks of improvisation. Then I will cut up some bits of it,” He would do that same Jaws technique with the drums, which were recorded live, and then splice the preferred takes together. “There are some mistakes in it, which makes it more analog than digital.”
Strange says he says he finds it hard to stop creating in the studio even coming up to a deadline. “We’re very good at changing stuff up until the end,” he says.” Like the day before we have to upload it I’ll be like: ‘Why don’t we reverse the sound of the drums?’ It’s kind of extreme but that’s how we work.” An example is ‘Driving Me Crazy’, which gained Chipmunk-like vocals in the final mix. “I remember hearing it and I was like ‘What?’ But now I love it, because it’s how we make music,” Thuesen says, “Equal parts very serious and very not serious.” There’s also a not-very-serious playfulness to the duos connection: at one point during a discussion about the introspective nature of songwriting Strange asks Thuesen “did you get inside my head?” to which she shoots back: “I’m inside your head baby!” without missing a beat.
The mix of musical experimentation and melancholy appealed to Hayley Williams, who namechecked Goodbyehouse and personally selected the band to support her on her first solo tour. “She wrote us a letter, it was very nice,” says Strange. “It makes me really happy and hopeful that an artist as big as her is still interested in investigating new music,” Thuesen says.
Before re-starting a tour which includes those Williams support dates, the band are at home, reflecting on their breakout year. “Apart from one show, we’d never played outside Denmark,” says Strange, “and I was surprised how many people showed up.” He sounds genuinely touched recounting the awe of a fan in Edinburgh who listened to Goodbyehouse on loop while coding a game for Rockstar. The duo have already started work on new music. “The crowd gets energy from the stage and you get energy on the stage from the crowd. We’re channelling some of that energy into writing new stuff,” says Strange. The new music is “rawer” and sounds more experimental than Goodbyehouse. “It’s double-edged because you want to make music for people that are into it, but it also sets a new expectation and you don’t want to disappoint anyone,” says Strange. “It’s very important to us to keep having this innocent way of making music.” It feels like they haven’t lost any of theirs yet.
Hop Along’s Frances Quinlan has stayed relatively quiet since their debut album, 
she’s green make the kind of shoegaze that tends to melt into the atmosphere, not quite as noisy or hooky as their recent tourmates in Glixen and Softcult. But on their latest EP 
Dancing Shoes 
We 
lucre
The EP format is a great vessel for left-field electronic music; last year, releases by Djrum and Verraco earned a spot on 
Though these six songs are technically B-sides that didn’t make Wishy’s debut LP 
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It’s hard to believe that Moin’s debut LP 
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Grumpy make sure we remember their unnerving idiosyncrasies first. Their new EP 
Glixen’s take on shoegaze is crushing, ethereal, lustful – and it’s the delicate sensuality of their music, especially on 
Love Is a Kingdom
Scarlet Rae’s debut EP gets heavy pretty fast, both musically and emotionally; the opener, ‘A World Where She Left Me Out’, was the first song Rae wrote after her sister died. The collection finds bliss in radiant, ethereal hooks while avoiding the cloudy lyricism that often pervades them, bluntly enticed, depressed, and disoriented by the range of emotions that accompany grief. “Hope and doom, they tend to balance, right?” she sings on ‘The Reason I Could Sleep Forever’. That balance hardly ever checks out, but what’s striking about No Heavy Goodbyes is how total depletion can act like a light switch, teasing the words and melodies out of the darkness. 
Jane Remover’s 
Helado Negro’s latest project is generally uptempo and beat-forward, but those qualities dissipate right when Roberto Carlos Lange seems to be answering its titular prompt. The last sound you hear before you die may resemble ‘Zenith’, the EP’s ambient, celestial highlight, which could also be the sound of the world dawning in. “When I wake up in the morning, I can listen to my ears tuning in to the world around me,” the musician said in press materials. “It feels like a blanket being pulled off my eardrums.” The first three songs on 
A lot of Lise Ivanova’s erratic non-sequiturs may be too esoteric to decode even with a lyric sheet in your hands, but it doesn’t take long for her to wield the word that could sum up 
Instead of a traditional press statement, DJ Python announced i was put on this earth with a philosophical conversation between two unnamed people – yearners, if you will – one of which says, “I wish we could all just lay around, do nothing, talk about ideas that lead to nothing, not bothered by conclusion, not driven by production.” The languid beauty of the EP 
Love Is a Dog From Hell
Everyone heaping praise on this year’s releases from Water From Your Eyes and This Is Lorelei should show some love to fantasy of a broken heart, whose latest EP is even better than their frenetic 2024 debut 
If MSPAINT’s debut album, 
2025 was almost as big a year for seven-piece bands that invited comparisons to Black Country, New Road as it was for that band itself. At least for two of them: one, a Michigan-based outfit that put out its 
Tracey – “two friends making music,” according to their Bandcamp bio, looking like “ヽ(•‿•)ノヽ(•‿•)ノ” – waste no time delivering the rush. ‘Sex life’ slides in all harsh and playful, an obvious banger of an opener that knows it’s got your attention, even if you know little to nothing about the people who made it. But then the track augments its hyperpop cheekiness with a dreamy sensuality, its crystalline keys broadcasting its signal off into the ether, where the rest of the EP coasts. Lush, cloudy, and intoxicating, these four songs cover more ground than most of the year’s albums but present a unique sensibility, painting with the sky as its canvas. In just over five minutes, they’ve ventured so far that when one voice sings “look down,” the distance seems incalculable. But every song here warms itself up to you like it could be your next favorite, never appearing too alien or enigmatic. Even as a massive synth yearns over chugging guitars, which erupt into fireworks, closer ‘Take Care’ feels palpably human. Coming from Pitchfork’s label of the year, 
It would be natural to view Perverts, the daring follow-up to 
