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Daedalus Li: Exploring the Poetics of Surface and a Design Philosophy Rooted in Pause

Minneapolis is now home to a unique voice in the design world: Daedalus Guoning Li, the Walker Art Center’s 2025-26 Mildred S. Friedman Design Fellow. Li, a graphic designer, artist, and exhibition designer, operates at the intersection of image, language, material, and space, bringing a deeply considered and emotionally resonant approach to their craft. Their work, informed by a rich academic background including an MFA in Graphic Design from Yale School of Art and a dual BArch and BFA in Architecture from the Rhode Island School of Design, challenges conventional notions of design, prioritizing sensory experience, spatial awareness, and poetic expression.

Li’s journey has been shaped by experiences at renowned design studios such as Pentagram, where they contributed to the immersive experience of Rolling Stone’s legacy for Illuminarium Las Vegas, and Isometric Studio in New York. At Isometric, Li contributed to major cultural projects such as Contemporary Muslim Fashions at Cooper Hewitt, Smithsonian Design Museum, re: collections at Rose Art Museum, and the AIGA-recognized project Company, merging architectural sensibility with typographic precision to create spatial identities grounded in equity-driven storytelling. This diverse portfolio showcases their ability to seamlessly blend artistic vision with practical application, creating design solutions that are both visually compelling and deeply meaningful.

Now, at the Walker Art Center, Li is poised to further explore their unique design philosophy. So, what exactly is Daedalus Li’s design philosophy? In their own words, it’s about “the misuse and appropriation of language, material, image, and body through design.” Their research-driven work often illuminates the nuances of Chinese cultural identities within foreign contexts, engaging cultural materials and techniques to explore the connotations, expansion, and depth of surface.

“I create work that lingers—less about instant impact, more about something that haunts or hums beneath the surface,” Li explains. “My philosophy centers on threshold moments: the edge of legibility, the residue of touch, the flicker between form and feeling. I want design to be both precise and poetic—grounded in structure, but open to ambiguity.” This commitment to nuance and emotional depth is evident in their approach to every project.

One key aspect of Li’s work is the addition of “conceptual depth.” This isn’t achieved through superficial embellishment but through a deep understanding of the subject matter and a collaborative approach. “When collaborating with artists, the process is more relational,” Li says. “I often spend time in their studio, observe their process, and ask questions about how they think, make, and feel. That intimacy allows me to create designs that extend their work, not decorates it.”

A prime example of this is their design for Paloma Izquierdo’s solo show, “Jealousy.” Recognizing Izquierdo’s use of digital fabrication and laser etching as methods of mark-making and form-finding, Li chose Hershey, an early computer-era typeface, as the typographic entry point, further on customizing it, adding depth and texture The typeface’s mechanical, line-based structure mirrored Izquierdo’s own art-making process, creating a conceptual echo of the artwork itself. This thoughtful approach demonstrates Li’s ability to create design that goes beyond mere aesthetics, functioning as an integral part of the artistic expression.

Li’s design philosophy is deeply intertwined with the emotional weight carried by materials. They believe that “design isn’t just visual—it’s embodied.” Texture, scale, density, and context all contribute to the emotional charge of a material. “A sheet of etched acrylic might read like a whisper or scar; a wall can feel cold or tender depending on its surface, light, or temperature,” Li explains. “Even digital environments hold an atmosphere: a website’s rhythm, motion, or contrast can register as intimate or alienating.”

This understanding of material as a carrier of emotion is central to Li’s work. They often return to materials like Chinese mulberry paper and wheatpaste, traditionally used in classic painting and calligraphy, ritual, and craft. By appropriating these materials in unconventional ways, they explore how materials can “misbehave” and how that misbehavior can hold cultural and emotional weight. “Wheatpaste, in particular, feels like an embodiment of Chinese queerness to me: formless, translucent, slippery, hard to define,” Li shares. “But when laminated onto another surface, it reshapes, giving form to something new. In that act, I see potential—of intimacy, of inheritance, of transformation.”

This transdisciplinary approach, bridging geospatial infrastructure with design history, is evident in their 2023-24 exhibition identity for “Groundwater Earth: The Before and After of the Tubewell” at the Yale School of Architecture. Drawing inspiration from cylindrical drilling diagrams and tubewell mechanism, Li created a visual system that resonated with the exhibition’s themes, showcasing their ability to create a resonant narrative field through layered editorial, spatial, and tactile methods. The exhibition has received critical applause from The Architect’s Newspaper, Arts Council of Greater New Haven, Times of India, etc., and has traveled to Venice for the 2025 Venice Biennale.

Remarkably, Li’s design philosophy remains consistent across mediums, from analog art books to coding websites. The guiding principle is one of “layering and subtracting—both visually and conceptually.” Li is interested in revealing what lies beneath the surface: the cultural echoes, historical traces, and emotional residues that shape our perceptions. “Design, for me, is a way to reveal what’s unsaid or overlooked, to fold affect and history into form,” they explain. This translates into the use of translucent papers and hand-bound sequences in analog formats, as well as the creation of interactive digital spaces where images accumulate, overlap, and mimic the feeling of something half-visible.

Ultimately, Daedalus Li aims to create work that invites a “pause.” This concept is not simply an absence of motion but a space where sensation gathers. In the face of constant digital stimulation, Li seeks to create moments of stillness, a disruption of pace that allows for deeper engagement. “I design for those interstitial beats—a hover, a hesitation, a lingering gaze,” they say. “That pause might be triggered by an unexpected texture, a slow fade, a typographic glitch, or an unfamiliar material surface that resists immediate consumption.”

Li views this “pause” as a form of care, opening a space where feeling has time to arrive. It allows what’s fragile, ghosted, or peripheral to come into view. In their work, Daedalus Li invites us to slow down, to engage with design on a deeper level, and to experience the emotional resonance that lies beneath the surface. Their presence at the Walker Art Center promises to be a period of exciting exploration and a valuable contribution to the landscape of contemporary design.

Roux Chen: Illuminating the Next Era of Music Videos Through Authentic Storytelling

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In the dynamic landscape of music video production, Roux Chen is carving out a distinctive niche. The Taiwanese-born, Los Angeles-based cinematographer is known for his buzzworthy film and music video projects, which are characterized by a blend of technical prowess and a deeply ingrained artistic vision. 

At the heart of Chen’s philosophy lies a profound belief: “All light exists to serve the script and story.” This guiding principle shapes every frame, ensuring that each visual element, from the subtlest shadow to the most vibrant highlight, contributes meaningfully to the narrative and emotional core of the music.

Chen’s expertise extends beyond mere technical proficiency; it encompasses a keen sensitivity to lighting that allows them to meticulously sculpt the mood and emotion of each scene. This dedication to narrative integrity guarantees that every project, regardless of scale or budget, reaches its fullest potential, resonating with audiences on a deeper, more impactful level. Effectively multitasking and collaborating with a diverse array of professionals, Chen seamlessly integrates their refined artistic vision with the technical demands of modern filmmaking, positioning them as a key creative force in the industry.

The allure of music videos, as Chen explains, lies in their unique creative freedom. “Unlike commercials, which are often product-driven, music videos allow for visual experimentation,” Chen notes. “They’re a hybrid form—somewhere between narrative and mood—that lets me explore different visual languages.” 

This flexibility allows Chen to delve into the artist’s sonic world and translate it into a compelling visual experience, offering a fresh perspective for the viewer.

A recent testament to this philosophy is Chen’s work with the popular Taiwanese punk group 831, who released their first album in 2007. Chen worked with them on their music video for the song “Don’t Want to Let You Know.” This project, which garnered over a million views on YouTube, was a collaborative effort with the band’s lead singer, A-Po. “He’s the lead singer of the band, so it naturally made sense for him to take the lead in the music video, as well,” said Chen. “His presence and performance really help carry the emotional tone of the piece, which was important for the story we were telling visually.”

“We aimed to create an intimate and emotionally resonant atmosphere,” Chen said, explaining the decision to shoot in a natural forest setting. This choice was deliberate, intended to “mirror the vulnerability and sincerity in the lyrics.”

The music video captures an acoustic session featuring the band’s singer. Chen’s directorial vision was to keep it minimal. “This was a stripped-down acoustic version of the song, and the director I collaborated with specifically hoped for a setting that felt raw and close to nature,” he said. “That’s why we chose the woods—it visually matched the tone of an unplugged guitar performance and created a calm, introspective atmosphere that aligned with the emotional core of the song.”

The remarkable success of the video’s wide viewership is attributed by Chen to its authenticity. “The group has a strong and loyal fanbase, but I think what really resonated was the authenticity of the video,” said Chen. “It stands in contrast to their more polished productions—it’s raw, intimate, and unfiltered. I believe that sincerity helped it connect with people on a deeper level.” 

The forest location, situated outside of Los Angeles, was chosen for its natural ambiance. “We wanted a natural location that could act as an emotional backdrop without feeling too staged or artificial,” Chen explains.

Chen’s journey into the world of music videos began with their very first project for artist Jolie B. This formative experience, undertaken shortly after graduating from film school, holds a special place in their career. “That project was incredibly meaningful to me because it was my first real experience after graduating from film school,” Chen recalls. “We had almost no budget, but I poured everything I had into it. It was a time when I had nothing to lose and everything to try—it set the tone for how I approach my work now: all in, always.”

The Jolie B music video, shot in Taiwan with a minimalist setup, was unique in its objective. Jolie B, initially a YouTuber focused on English cultural education, aimed to utilize popular songs as a tool for language learning. “That intent shaped how we approached the project—it wasn’t just about performance, but also accessibility and relatability,” Chen said. The video’s success, according to Chen, stemmed from its inherent authenticity and the seamless integration of educational aspirations with musical expression. “I think the success came from its authenticity and the way it blended educational goals with music in a very natural and appealing way.”

Chen also highlights the inherent charm of low-budget music videos. The limitations, rather than being a hindrance, often serve as a catalyst for innovation. “Constraints spark creativity,” Chen explains. “When you can’t rely on flashy gear or heavy post-production, you’re forced to ask: what’s the core idea, and how do I make that hit? That pressure, oddly enough, often brings out the most inventive and emotionally powerful work.” 

This unique perspective underscores Chen’s commitment to prioritizing artistic merit and storytelling over sheer production value.

Looking ahead, Chen’s approach signals a promising direction for the future of music videos. As the industry continues to embrace diverse formats and creative expressions, Chen’s dedication to authenticity, narrative depth, and the evocative power of light positions them as a significant contributor to this evolving art form. Their ability to translate sonic artistry into compelling visual narratives, even within budgetary constraints, ensures that music videos will continue to thrive as a vibrant and impactful medium for artists and audiences alike. Chen’s recent credits, notably the short films “WRATH” and “Beats Down,” alongside music videos for Jolie B, 831, YIFEI, and VivasSwan, along with documentary work such as “Chhaupadi: The Ritual,” demonstrate a versatile and impactful creative output that continues to push boundaries and illuminate stories.

For more info, visit rouxchen.com.

Fragments That Breathe: The Subtle Power of Caijing Kuang’s Art

Caijing Kuang’s prints feel like the inhalation of a quiet room. You don’t notice the change at first — not right away– but something softens. Something shifts. And then you are in it.

Her work does not speak in grand absolutions. It whispers. It wanders. It occupies that invisible space between image and memory, between seeing and feeling. Be it the layered inscape of Growing in Blue; the solitary hush of Shadow; or the spiral of ache in Voice; Kuang’s prints ask something rare from us as viewers. Not to be interpret, nor to even understand, but simply to sit with what stirs.

There is a kind of emotional magnetism that draws you to what she is doing — a feeling that her monoprints are not simply made but excavated. The texture, the human frailty, the tattered edges of her figures — they all feel like something half-remembered, something that has come to the forefront from somewhere just below conscious thought.

Growing in Blue, her nine-square monoprint, is the clearest window into her visual language. Each square is a scene different from the others, collected as from pages of a dream journal left in the rain. Human silhouettes move between watery brush strokes. Birds drift among forms, some whole and some not; all pausing in moments that haven’t quite resolved. There are ladders without endings, footsteps without destinations, and limbs that belong to no-one, yet somehow everything feels right. None of it is lost. Everything seems to exist exactly in its right place — not in respect of narrative, but of feeling.

It’s in this space — this fragmented, floating, emotionally open space — where Kuang’s gift really lives. She understands something that can’t be taught: that the body holds memory in pieces, and that sometimes, the act of creating is less about clarity and more about holding space for what can’t be named.

While still feeling it intensely in Shadow, the figure remains both present and dissolving. The ink has faded just enough to obscure her features, to blur her edges – and yet, that absence presents itself louder than presence. You don’t need to see her face. You know her. Or maybe more correctly, you feel the part of yourself that is her. The part that has been hidden, forgotten, or simply allowed to wear thin with time.

This is where Kuang separates herself from the decorative or the illustrative. She produces prints that are emotional mirrors. You do not look at them within the context of outside viewing, you enter into them.

In Voice, there is a shift – the palette deepens, the shapes grow looser, and more abstract. In the center is a spiral, dark blue, intense, and pulsing, and inside it are possibilities of a bird, or a breath, or a thought that you just can’t put a name to. It doesn’t matter. Kuang isn’t illustrating a concept, she is working with a sensation. There is tension in that spiral – not panic, but an intimacy, a closing in, like if you were to listen too closely to your own heartbeat.

What makes her work so destructive is not only emotional weight, it is how lightly she rides it. These are prints done with air and silence, with smudges and gently applied pressure. There is nothing over-rendered or over-worked. She simply trusts the medium to say what it needs to say. She trusts us, the audience, to meet her halfway.

That trust is crucial, because her themes are not easy ones. Kuang navigates memory, lost, and displacement, and identity by inviting us, the viewers, on the journey with her, with a calm bravery. Critical to her practice is that she simply gives us an experience of these themes without necessarily needing to articulate them to us. There is no manifesto here and no didacticism, just feeling — layered, contradictory, unarticulated feeling. She captures the rhythm of remembering: how it loops, how it gets stuck, how sometimes it can feel light and sometimes it feels heavy.

You can see her cultural background bleeding into the work in a beautiful way — not as decoration, but as emotional infrastructure. The plants that are threaded through her prints hold more weight than just symbolic motifs. They stand in for breath, survival, becoming. Growing up in the mountainous province of Guizhou, Kuang has spiritual residue from that landscape that feeds into her cluster of memories — time unfolds readily around trees, nature carries stories. Her use of flora is not symbolic in the Western sense, but visceral. These are not metaphoric — they are memory, with roots.

And when you see those branches weaving around a body or those leaves mingling with footsteps, you do not say, Oh that means healing, you just feel it. In your chest. Like a truth you already knew.

There is something incredibly generous about her process. The chaos of monoprinting – the ways ink is unpredictable, in how textures appear uninvited, is reflective of the emotional landscapes she is navigating. She does not push against the medium and instead, allows the medium to speak. Their relationship of impulse and control becomes a kind of remarkable visual understanding.

And this is why her work continues to gain traction — not because it is fashionable or polished, but because it is real. You cannot fake what she is doing. You cannot teach it. You can only feel your way into it — and she has. Completely.

And yes, the art world is taking notice. From the World Illustration Awards shortlist to exhibitions in the UK and France, Kuang is certainly in the rising star spotlight that is well deserved. But I think as pertinent, she is creating something that many contemporary artists struggle to achieve: work that does not demand your attention, but captured it. Work that does not perform feeling, but embodies feeling.

Rewriting the Act of Looking: Tactile Narratives in Yijing Miao’s Practice

In an increasingly image-saturated culture, where articulation is often synonymous with visibility, London-based artist Yijing Miao’s practice takes a more elusive route—one that listens where others speak, that holds space where others fill it. Working across installation, sensory environments, and research-driven inquiry, Miao has developed a distinct visual and material language that foregrounds the silent systems that shape bodies, identities, and mechanisms of control.

Rather than delivering overt messages, Miao’s work performs a quiet unraveling of the visual order. She turns attention to the limits of language, the thresholds of visibility, and the bodily experience of shame, regulation, and erasure. Her installations are often marked by a refusal of finished form. They privilege tactility, decomposition, and haptic response over clean aesthetic resolution—generating affective fields in which viewers become active participants in the perceptual and ethical stakes of the work.

In Ac’me, for instance, Miao constructs an environment that simulates the unstable surface of acne-prone skin using expired marshmallows. The sugar forms are tender, decaying, and disconcertingly corporeal. They act not as metaphor, but as material critiques of how adolescent bodies are culturally coded through dermatological imperfections. Rather than sanitising or valorising the skin condition, she implicates the viewer in the regime of shame that surrounds it—turning “acne” into a political texture.

Figure 2, Ac’me exhibiting in London
Figure 3, Installation of Ac’me

Miao’s refusal of linguistic or aesthetic containment is further evident in her ongoing investigations into censorship and bodily visibility. A recent research-led project, Nipplicate explores the algorithmic suppression of nipples on digital platforms. Instead of offering a critique in the form of protest, she envisions a speculative database—an open-access archive of de-gendered, non-classified bodily imagery. Here, the body is not captured or categorised, but allowed to exist outside codified meaning. What emerges is not just a challenge to censorship, but a rethinking of how we ‘read’ the body, and whose narratives dominate digital representation.

Figure 4,  Research of Nipplicate

Her work rarely takes the form of the declarative. She constructs structures that hum, resonate, and invite. In this way, Miao’s practice is deeply embedded in feminist and posthumanist thinking—particularly in its interrogation of the politics of visibility and its alignment with new materialist approaches to non-verbal communication. She is not interested in representation, but in modulation: in the tremors, silences, and half-formed gestures that unfold between body, viewer, and environment.

This tendency is set to deepen in her current project-in-progress, a sensor-based installation that bypasses visual and textual cues altogether. Instead, she uses ambient technologies—vibration, scent, temperature flux—to create a non-verbal system of perception. The piece functions as a kind of silent score, or as she describes it, “a space to read without reading.” It draws on somatic experience as a form of epistemology, opening up new vocabularies for sensation and shared understanding beyond language.

Figure 5, Work in Progress

Miao’s time in the UK has clearly catalysed this trajectory. Exposure to an interdisciplinary ecosystem—from critical theory to expanded media practices—has allowed her to cultivate a form of practice that is as much attuned to speculative politics as it is to material craft. In many ways, her installations operate less as objects than as situations—sites in which bodies, meanings, and materials are placed in mutual tension.

To encounter her work is to enter into a space of uncertain agency. One is not shown what to see, but asked how one looks—and what that looking might cost. In a time when immediacy and spectacle dominate our visual culture, Yijing Miao offers an ethics of hesitation, a grammar of slowness, and a quiet but persistent challenge to what can—and cannot—be seen.

The 100 Season 8: Cast, Rumours & Release Date

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Fans are constantly asking if The 100 will continue after season seven. Seeing as there are so many questions left unanswered along with an abundance of great characters, the idea of the eighth season is still in the air, whether it is in podcasts or social media. Are these thoughts just hopeful thinking, or have we concluded the saga? Let’s delve into what we know and what we don’t know.

Is There a Season 8?

Currently, there is no word one way or the other from the showrunners or The CW regarding a season eight. The seventh season wrapped up stories that provide a semblance of closure, but fans continue to hold out hope for an eventual full return to the stories we have come to love. Without an official announcement, the fate of The 100 has yet to be determined. If the show did return, it would be available on various streaming platforms.

Cast

If the show were to return, it’s likely that many familiar faces would come back, including:

  • Eliza Taylor as Clarke Griffin
  • Bob Morley as Bellamy Blake
  • Marie Avgeropoulos as Octavia Blake
  • Lindsey Morgan as Raven Reyes
  • Richard Harmon as John Murphy
  • Paige Turco as Dr. Abigail “Abby” Griffin
  • Devon Bostick as Jasper Jordan
  • Christopher Larkin as Monty Green
  • Isaiah Washington as Thelonious Jaha

These actors defined the show and would probably return if the story continues.

What Might Happen in Season 8?

There are no plot specific details available, but many fans speculate that Season 8 could focus on rebuilding life on Earth after the crumbling of the previous structure in Season 7. Many believe there could be a new series of characters with conflict and a quest for survival returning as themes, in addition to some other themes like leadership and what it means to be human in an unforgiving world.

Recommendations for Things Like The 100

If you enjoyed The 100, you might enjoy:

  • Battlestar Galactica – A gripping space saga exploring humanity’s survival.
  • Lost – A mysterious island adventure and character drama.
  • The Expanse – A politically charged sci-fi epic.
  • The Walking Dead – Post-apocalyptic survival drama exploring community and conflict.

Kurt Vile and Luke Roberts Announce New EP ‘Classic Love’ , Share Song

Kurt Vile and Nashville singer-songwriter Luke Roberts have announced a new EP, Classic Love. It’s set to arrive July 25 via Verve. It spans five tracks, including a cover of Beach House’s 2016 song ‘Wildflower’. There are also two versions of the title track, one of which is out today alongside a Lucky Marvel-directed video. Listen to the warm, breezy single below.

Speaking about the track, Vile said:

I always thought “classic love” was the epitome of a song that belonged on the radio. When I heard Luke and Kyle [Spence’s] recording of this (they even got Kyle’s old Harvey Milk bandmate, Creston Spiers to play some on it) it just floored me: like this could be old or new, just a timeless track… I figured the best way I could help it reach the masses was to just get myself up in that track as well and move ‘er through the KV/Verve machine. I believe in Luke so much, and yeah, this song in general has been my and Kyle’s religion for some time. Luke is just a great songwriter, man. Now it can be immortalized in the canon of classic songs! The minute I heard this song, I just wanted to be involved. Love ya, Luke!

Vile’s last release was 2023’s Back to Moon Beach, an EP that clocks in at almost an hour.

Classic Love EP Cover Artwork:

Kurt Vile Classic Love

Classic Love EP Tracklist:

1. classic love
2. hit of the highlife
3. classic love (kv version)
4. slow talkers ’22”
5. wildflower

Artist Spotlight: Sharpie Smile

Sharpie Smile is the duo of Dylan Hadley and Cole Berliner, who met in 2015 and used to make psychedelic art-rock under the moniker Kamikaze Palm Tree. ‘Sharpie Smile’ also happens to be the name of a song on Kamikaze Palm Tree’s 2019 debut LP, Good Boy. Art-pop could be a reasonable descriptor for both projects (maybe not for ‘Sharpie Smile’), but Hadley and Berliner were conscious enough of the drastic musical shift that, halfway through making a new record, they decided it should be a different project. The Staircase, their debut album out today via Drag City (the same label that released KPT’s sophomore effort, Mint Chip) is energized by contemporary pop music that’s punchy, shimmery, and ethereal in a combination that sheds light on their own idiosyncrasies. The music is kinetic and universe-swallowing, its contrasting yet comforting qualities manifesting within the space of a single song, as in ‘So Far’, or in the way the clubby ‘New Flavor’ is sandwiched between two serpentine ballads. Sharpie Smile is a step away from Kamikaze Palm Tree, but it’s also an extension and revitalization of the weird playfulness they harnessed as teenagers, transitioning into the vulnerability and instability of adulthood. “Wrap around the hand of excitement,” Hadley sings on ‘Brick or Stone’, “Long enough to breathe in.”

We caught up with Sharpie Smile for the latest edition of our Artist Spotlight series to talk about the new project, the inspirations behind the sonic shift, recording The Staircase, and more.


You started playing together a decade ago when you formed Kamikaze Palm Tree, but you weren’t able to fully focus on that band until pretty late into it. How do you see the trajectory of that project now, and the way it intersected with what was happening for you personally and collaboratively leading up to Sharpie Smile?

Dylan Hadley: Yeah, we weren’t totally in the same place. Cole was in college, I was in San Francisco, and it took until we both moved to LA to really start doing the project in 2019. We got to do so much cool stuff with that band, and it was super fun. For me, at least with that band, it felt like cool practice in making anti music or something. And for this project, I’ve always loved pop music and electronic stuff, but it seemed so daunting to actually make that stuff because I just was never on the computer like that. Personally, I was going through a lot of big life changes, and it kinda intersected. We started making this record as KPT, and halfway through it, we were like, “Oh, this is not the same band.” I was at a point in my life where I was trying to be more vulnerable and open in general, and I feel like that comes through with this record. It was just a different practice all around, being open to a new way of understanding music or learning music, which was exciting for me.

Cole Berliner: I totally agree with Dylan. I do remember when we first started making this album, it kinda felt like we were hacking through the forest, we were exploring and truly experimenting with music that we had always liked and we always admired, but also felt like totally new territory for us. With every Kamikaze Palm Tree album, I feel like we’ve always tried to do that too, where we didn’t exactly know what it was supposed to sound like, but we were just like, “We’re going in this direction.” And this one almost felt the most like that out of anything that we’ve done together, where we didn’t really we didn’t really know what the album was supposed to sound until all of a sudden we arrived at the end.

Did that bring back the kind of back the kind of beginner’s mindset and excitement that you felt when you first started playing music together? 

DH: A hundred percent, yeah. I also feel like both of us, while making this, were so excited by the pop world right now and how experimental it is. I felt like with KPT, there were experimental elements with it, we loved so many underground older artists, so it was cool to take that perspective and be like, this 100 gecs song, the snare sounds like a water droplet. I still feel so excited by so many pop artists right now, and it does feel like a new form of experimental music to me. Every day I find something new where, if anything, I’m just excited to make something new again already, because it does feel like that childlike excitement and wonderment. I feel like since Cole and I have known each other since we were kids, it feels easy to tap into that, “Oh my god, this is such a cool” thing while we’re working together. And our producer, Cesar Maria, we’ve also known him since we were kids, so the three of us together, it just feels like we’re having fun.

What kind of pop music did you gravitate to growing up?

DH: I feel like when I was really young, I loved Lily Allen. I haven’t thought about her in a minute. But the first modern pop thing I heard where I was like, “Woah,” was SOPHIE. Especially because her music was groundbreaking at the time, and also, it was the most new experimental thing I had heard, with her sounds literally sounding like metal. That sent me into the world of being obsessive with hyperpop, because I grew up with a punk dad, so I feel like I had that embarrassment about liking pop. I kinda didn’t let myself totally be down with it until I heard SOPHIE.

CB: We bonded over a lot of different kinds of music when we were friends as kids in high school. We would share music all the time, and it would be all different kinds of stuff for sure. We used to listen to everything from Tortoise to My Bloody Valentine to Merzbow or something. But when we were on tour last year, with Ty Segall, we ended up making a whole playlist that was all nearly 2000s hits. That was the playlist of the tour. We were going hard to that the whole time. So it was like we’re kinda another, also another level unlocked.

DH: It’s also six hours long.

Dylan, you said it was about halfway through that you realized this didn’t fit into the world of KPT. Can you tell me more about that realization?

CB: We were doing some electronic stuff and a lot more synthesizers, and then every couple months or something, we’d be like, “Do we want this? Does this feel right?” We kept pushing it more and more pop, and we would check in with each other and be like, “Are you down?” And we were like, “Yeah. Let’s do this.” Until finally it got to this point where we’re like, “OK, this is what we both want.”

DH: And it’s just so different from KPT where maybe it needs to be a totally different thing. When we’re in the middle of making the record and recording, and Ty Segall asked us to tour with him, we were like, “Maybe we should just tour this as Sharpie Smile.” We did play some early versions of these songs, and we did play some KPT stuff, I think. It felt like we were finding our footing being Sharpie Smile on that tour, and once we got home from that tour, we reworked everything again, feeling really inspired. Maybe it was because of that playlist. [laughs] It helped it reach its final form.

Even if this music isn’t out yet, do you feel like you’re already being put in a position where you almost have to justify the shift in direction, just because it happens to be this shift in direction as opposed to any other that you might have explored as KPT? 

DH: I feel so strongly about pop music being experimental that my stance on maybe defending the switch-up is that we’ve always had this experimental aspect that we wanted to tap into, whether that came across or not. We’re still trying to embrace what experimental music is to us, and this feels like the most, at least myself in music I’ve been – again, trying to be more vulnerable with music or just in general. This kind of felt like, yeah really kind of doing, a different form of experimental music.

CH: Kamikaze Palm Tree and Sharpie Smile, in a lot of ways, are kind of on the same plane for us. Even though sonically it’s a different lens, in concept, it’s not too far away – even though maybe it can turn some people off. I totally understand that, and that can be cool. But for us, it still feels like it’s our two brains. It’s still our band.

What I like about the record’s approach to pop is that it treads the line between the more maximalist tendencies and and the more muted, ethereal sounds that are simultaneously bubbling in the underground. Was that dynamic something you were conscious of while you were making The Staircase?

DH: I was obsessed with this song ‘Fire Escape’ by Zsela, who Cole actually plays with now. It’s so punchy but minimal – there’s so much space, and there’s this huge synth in the middle of these really airy moments. I feel a lot of the references for the record were treading that line. We were listening a lot to Motomami, the Rosalia record, and there’s many moments in that where there’s some crazy piano thing and nothing else, or just her with AutoTune. With pop production right now, similar to Oklou and Caroline Polacek, I feel like there’s so many layers underneath. Every time I listen to Caroline, I hear a new thing in the song that I didn’t hear the last time. So we were trying to figure out, how can someone listen to this song and pick something out every time they listen?

Your writing process obviously evolved through KPT, too, but was the progression more jarring or challenging in some ways with this album?

DH: I feel like the writing process for this record was definitely the most challenging. Yeah. We’d never made pop music before, and it is really hard. Anyone who says, “There’s a formula, it’s easy” – it’s hard. It was a bit of a struggle for us at first because it was a totally different way of thinking about music. That’s where Cesar was super helpful too, because he’s got a genius brain. Me and Cole did really learn a lot of ways to achieve this on our own or with demoing and stuff, but I feel like Cesar definitely was the icing and the cherry on top,making it feel shimmery with all the cool layering. CB: We did spend a lot of time, or at least what felt like a lot of time, making this record. It took two years altogether from when we started writing it to when we finished it. A lot of different versions, a lot of revisions, and a lot of trying things and being like, “Does that work?” That was another cool thing about when Cesar entered the picture, because he, number one, totally got our vision, but number two, added a third perspective that helped guide us to the finish line.

Do you remember a song or two that changed the most from start to finish?

DH: ‘Disappears’?

CB: Yeah, ‘Disappears’ was one that when we played it live, it was totally different. One of the first songs that we wrote for this album is ‘The Slide’, and the first versions of that are just completely different – that was one of those ones that when we got in with Cesar, we ended up tearing it apart and reconstituting it.

The song ‘The Answer’ references “a web of notes,” which made me curious about the way you assemble lyrics for the project. Do you have a bunch of lines jotted down in various places, or do you tend to write a song from start to finish?

DH: One of my favorite lyricists is Mayo Thompson from the Red Krayola. With previous lyrics that I wrote for KPT, I was like, “I don’t want it to be about anything. I’m gonna pretend like I’m Mayo Thompson or whatever.” With this one, I wanted to write a little bit more from the heart, but also keep in mind how he’s so descriptive – it feels like it’s scenes, you can almost see what he’s talking about. I wanted to write lyrics where you could see it if you wanted to visualize it.I guess you saying this kinda puts it together: the lyrics are low-key like a web of notes. I have a couple different notebooks where I’ll just have a couple lines written down or in my phone if I’m in the van on tour or something and I think about something fried. I have so many notes in my phone that just don’t make any sense, and it’s like, “How can I make sense of this in the context of the song?” But definitely, with this record, I wanted to write a little bit more specifically about stuff than previous records.

One very visual moment on the record for me is ‘Break or Stone’, where the climax and outro feel like an extension of those lines: “I can’t even count the times/ We curved around a haunting moment.” 

DH: A lot of that song was about relationships that I was having in my life that weren’t totally working. It feeling kinda stretched out, I feel like I was going through a period of: I don’t know how well this is working out, I don’t feel totally comfortable. Over the course of writing this record, there’s so much change for me personally where I was like, “This feels like forever.” Ever-changing type stuff. Cole did a whole string arrangement for that.

CB: I was really inspired by Philip Glass at that moment. He’ll have these pieces, like Glassworks, that just kinda go on. They feel like they are lost in time. It’s almost a weird limbo feeling that you get from them, but it’s all very beautiful too. I think I had maybe a flute – I had a MIDI guitar pickup that we got for the making of this album, and I had a flute patch or something pulled up. I played the chord progression and sent it to Dylan, we reworked a couple of the chords here and there to make them fit, and you started writing a melody line. I had always thought it should be a string moment, so I ended up doing a string arrangement of the chord progression, and I wrote sheet music and all that for it.

DH: I definitely picked up on that in a limbo feeling with the lyrics.

CB: Yeah, we somehow connected on that vibe.

Dylan, you mentioned vulnerability – what did the record unlock for you both on that emotional level? 

DH: I feel like also just the process of trying to make pop music felt really exposing. I remember talking to someone from Drag City about this record. I was on tour with a different band, and I was literally tearing up talking about making this record, just how tied in it felt to what I was going through personally. For me, at least, it can be really hard to tap into emotion, and this felt like I was letting it all out through this record. It helped me transform the way I approach my own feelings – in the words of Sophie, ‘It’s Okay to Cry’ vibes. It’s okay to be vulnerable, and it’s okay to change the way you want to approach life and music and your trajectory. We’re adults now, and we started making KPT when we’re really young, so I think it’s just approaching this and growing into being an adult. I feel like this record unlocked the next phase of life for me.

CB: It does feel like this album ushers in a new era within ourselves.

Dylan, how did this record affect your relationship with singing? The idea of pop music as something exposing – did you feel that with your voice, too?

DH: Definitely.  I had never really sang like this before, and I feel like I was always like, “I can’t really sing that well, so I’m just gonna do what I can do.” It made me want to practice a lot more, and I started taking vocal lessons and practicing a lot on my own and singing along to Kate Bush or different pop artists that I really like now, just trying to push as much as I could vocally. I obviously still have a long way to go with that. I will just drive around doing vocal exercises trying to get better, because singing is hard. Also, we did a lot of vocal production stuff that felt like a textural element that I heard a lot in modern pop production stuff that felt really exciting to me, like almost using your voice as a synth. Your voice can be totally like its own instrument in so many cool ways that had never occurred to me before making this record.

Do you mind sharing one thing that inspires you about each other, be it musical or personal?

CB: If something could be better, you really push it to try to be better. It’s not like every idea that we throw at the wall sticks. In a lot of ways, I feel like you push us to make something that’s interesting or unique. You care a lot about the vibe –nailing the vibe just right, getting it so that it doesn’t feel too edgy, it doesn’t feel too safe. You have a very good balance of that in your mind.

DH: I feel similarly, and also, Cole is just an insane musician. He’s going to put out a solo record that I’ve heard, and it’s insane. It feels inspiring to me to play with someone who’s so good with everything. Also, you’re really good at drawing references from stuff that I wouldn’t necessarily think of. You know how to perfect stuff in a way that I don’t at all, so I feel like working with you tames this part of me that is like, “Ahhh, let’s do that, let’s do this.” You help me stay focused with some things that I don’t totally understand. I feel like we both balance each other out in those ways.

CB: We’re similar enough but different enough that we’re not completely opposite forces, but we come together on the right things.


This interview has been edited and condensed for clarity and length.

Sharpie Smile’s The Staircase is out now via Drag City.

Is It Pokies or Slots? A Guide to Casino Lingo Around the World

For anyone entering the world of casino gaming, whether online or offline, the language can be a bit confusing. One common source of debate is the use of the terms “pokies” and “slots.” Are they the same thing? Why does the name change depending on where you are? Let’s break down the meaning behind the words and how regional differences reflect the diverse world of casino culture.

What Are Slots?

Slots is the term most commonly used in countries such as the United States, Canada, and the UK to refer to the classic gambling machines found in casinos, whether online or land-based. These games typically involve spinning reels with various symbols, and players aim to line up matching combinations to win prizes or to trigger a bonus feature. With a long-standing history in Las Vegas and Atlantic City, the term “slot machine” is deeply rooted in North American gambling culture.

What Are Pokies?

In Australia and New Zealand, the same machines described above are referred to as pokies, an abbreviation for poker machines. While the name suggests a link to the game of poker, which is an incredibly popular casino game, these machines are essentially the same as slots and don’t require any poker knowledge or strategy. The term gained popularity in the mid-20th century and remains the go-to phrase across pubs, clubs, and casinos in Australia and New Zealand.

Why the Different Names?

The difference is mainly cultural and historical. In Australia, early versions of the machines mimicked poker hands, which is why they were originally referred to as poker machines. In contrast, the American term slot machine originated from the coin slot used to insert money into the machine to play.

Over time, both terms have evolved independently in their regions. They still mean the same thing, though.

Modern Use and Online Gaming

Thanks to globalisation and the rise of online casinos, players worldwide are exposed to both terms. Australians playing at UK or US-based platforms might see online slot games instead of pokies, while players from America visiting Australian-hosted casinos may see pokies rather than slots.

Nowadays, most online casinos use the term “slots” for international appeal, although region-specific sites in Australia may stick with “pokies.”

Other Regional Differences in Casino Terms

Pokies vs slots isn’t the only example of gambling terms changing across regions. For instance, what Americans call craps, the British may refer to more broadly as dice games. Similarly, roulette remains fairly universal, but betting terminology, such as odds on or even money, can vary depending on local preferences.

It’s always a good idea to be aware of these differences as they can enhance your casino experience, especially if you’re travelling or playing on an international online platform.

Conclusion

While pokies and slots describe the same type of game, their names are rooted in regional traditions. Whether you prefer to spin the reels Down Under or hit the jackpot in Las Vegas, understanding the lingo will always make you feel more confident in any setting. So, next time you hear someone talking about pokies, you’ll know they’re just on about slots, and vice versa.

Horse Racing Fashion Trends In 2025

Most horse racing enthusiasts, especially people who attend such events, know that horse racing is much about the fashion than the actual racing. This is one of the few sports where you can turn up in a hoodie or a tank top. There are certain rules that you have to follow.

But why is fashion so important for horse racing? Well, it all comes down to tradition. Horse racing was introduced as a sport reserved for the elite class, and most of them dressed really well as a show of status.

This became a tradition that is deeply embedded in the sport. But fashion is changing. Yes, many fashion elements have been stuck with the sport for decades, and if you truly want to stand out, you need to follow some fashion trends.

The question is, what are the latest fashion trends from the Sport of Kings? Let’s find out.

What’s Changing?

The days when horse racing fashion was limited to who had the biggest hat and paste dresses are gone.

Don’t worry, this doesn’t mean that those iconic headpieces are out of the picture; people still wear them. But in 2025, race day style is way more expressive, personal, and inclusive.

We all know that street style is booming at the moment, and the unusual combination of street style and luxury. But if you are not a fashion enthusiast, these words mean nothing to you.

This means that people are wearing classic elegance infused with some street style. So, oversized blazers for both men and women are quite big at the moment. People are making bold choices, and they are using these horse racing events to express themselves.

Therefore, horse racing fashion isn’t only about blending in with the garden party crowd; it is more about making a statement without looking like you tried too hard.

Fashion is an important part of the overall experience of a horse racing event. These events are structured with multiple pieces, like excitement from the race, the fashion, and the thrill of betting. Trust me, even winning a bet is more difficult when your outfit is not on point.

Even if you don’t know how to place a bet on a horse racing event, you can learn more about it here: twinspires.com/betting-guides/beginners-guide-betting-horse-racing/

Trend #1: Sustainable Chic

There is no room for polyester this year. Sustainable fashion is no longer a niche; it’s a full-blown movement.

People are finding ways to recycle clothes, get into vintage designer pieces, and even rework some old family pieces that were stuck in the wardrobe for decades.

There’s even a quiet little war going on between people who bought new versus people who thrifted something fabulous and are notafraid to say, “Oh this old thing? $12 at a charity shop.”

Trend #2: Monochrome Moments (But Make It Bold)

Color is still king, but 2025 has a bit of a twist. Instead of the usual floral explosion or Easter egg palette, people are rocking bold, head-to-toe monochrome looks. And no, it’s not just black or beige. We’re talking emerald green, electric blue, deep lilac—even neon orange if you’re really about that life.

The trick is to keep the silhouette clean and let the color do the talking. Pair a sharp tailored pantsuit with a matching fascinator, or a flowing midi dress with color-coordinated shoes, bag, and lips. Minimalist? Maybe. Boring? Absolutely not.

Trend #3: The Return of the Tailored Suit (For Everyone)

Let’s raise a toast to the tailored suit, which has made a triumphant return to racetrack style this year—and we mean for all genders. While the days of cookie-cutter men’s suits are (thankfully) fading, the 2025 version is loud, luxurious, and full of personality.

We’re seeing pinstripes in metallic thread, double-breasted numbers in velvet, and pastel linens with open-collared shirts. Ladies and non-binary fashionistas are also leaning into the power suit trend, rocking cropped blazers with high-waisted trousers and statement belts. Bonus points if you pair it with loafers that look like they’ve never seen a racetrack in their life.

Trend #4: Hats with Attitude

Let’s not even pretend hats aren’t still a major deal. The unofficial rule of horse racing fashion remains: no hat, no fun.

But 2025’s headwear is pushing boundaries. Oversized brims with sharp angles, avant-garde feather constructions that defy gravity, and headbands masquerading as tiaras. Some even include subtle tech elements (yes, wearable tech is invading your fascinator now). One London-based designer is making waves with hats that change color based on UV exposure—both practical and fabulous.

And for the minimalist among us? Sleek, sculptural pieces with clean lines are just as show-stopping.

Trend #5: Sneakers, Yes Really

Now this is controversial, but hear us out: fashion sneakers are finding their way into race-day outfits. And before the purists’ gasp—don’t worry, these aren’t your muddy gym kicks. We’re talking platform sneakers with floral embroidery, beaded high-tops, and even designer collabs that look like wearable art.

The vibe? Comfort meets couture. Especially popular among younger attendees and fashion influencers who are done with sinking heels in the turf. Because nothing says modern luxury like not hobbling around in stilettos after the fifth mint julep.

Trend #6: Statement Accessories That Actually Make a Statement

This year, accessories aren’t just for sparkle—they’re telling stories. Expect to see clutch bags with slogans, brooches passed down through generations, or jewelry that doubles as activism. Think “Vote” earrings, climate-conscious bracelets, and even AI-generated designs based on your birth chart (yes, really).

And let’s not forget the return of gloves. Satin, mesh, even fingerless leather versions—gloves are back, and they are not playing around.

So, what are you waiting for? Go through your old stuff, find what you can recycle, and make a statement on your next horse racing event.

8 Albums Out Today to Listen To: Lorde, Frankie Cosmos, Greet Death, and More

In this segment, we showcase the most notable albums out each week. Here are the albums out on June 27, 2025:


Lorde, Virgin

Lorde, Virgin coverLorde’s Virgin has arrived. The much-anticipated follow to 2021’s Solar Power was promoted with the singles ‘What Was That’, ‘Man of the Year’, and ‘Hammer’. Throbbing, unmoored, and angsty even at its most muted, the record was co-produced with Jim-E Stack, with additional contributions from Fabiana Palladino, Daniel Nigro, Rob Moose, No World’s Andrew Aged, Blood Orange’s Devonté Hyves, Bon Iver’s Justin Vernon, and more. ‘Current Affairs’, an emotional highlight, samples of Dexta Daps’ ‘Morning Love’, while ‘If She Could See Me Now’ features elements of Baby Bash and Frankie J’s hit ‘Suga Suga’.


Frankie Cosmos, Different Talking

Frankie Cosmos, Different Talking coverFrankie Cosmos‘ new album is their first to be self-produced since Greta Kline’s earliest demos. Kline, Alex Bailey, Katie Von Schleicher, and Hugo Stanley tracked the homey, gentle Different Talking at a house in upstate New York that they all lived in for a month and a half. “We set up to record this album having only toured for ten days together total as a four piece,” Kline noted in our inspirations interview. “We’d been playing together and practicing, but we hadn’t toured that much together when we set out to make the record, so I feel like I was being a camp counselor trying to get us to bond. In tandem with making a record, we were also building our rapport as a band and our communication and our dynamics together, figuring that out just day by day.”


Greet Death, Die in Love

Die in Love cover artworkGreet Death are back with Die in Love, their first LP since 2019’s New Hell. They recorded the album in Davisburg, Michigan – specifically in Harper Boyhtari’s parents’ basement, where she and co-vocalist Logan Gaval spent much of their formative years. Going into it, Gaval had been listening to the Beatles and Paul McCartney’s solo work “because I was trying to figure out how to write a song that wasn’t just depressing,” according to the album’s bio. There’s a song called ‘Emptiness Is Everywhere’, for instance, but the line goes, “Emptiness is everywhere, so hold each other close.” “I wanted to try to write something less fatalistic, because I feel some kind of responsibility to help,” Gaval explained. The results are beautiful in both their tenderness and occasional grandeur.


Sharpie Smile, The Staircase

Sharpie Smile, The StaircaseThe duo of Dylan Hadley and Cole Berliner, formerly Kamikaze Palm Tree, have made their debut album as Sharpie Smile, The Staircase. It’s a pop record that takes cues from both the more maximal and minimal (but uniformly futurist) sounds in the contemporary landscape, from 100 gecs to Oklou. Featuring the early singles ‘The Slide’ and the title track, the album was engineered and produced by Cesar Maria, with additional engineering by Spencer Hartling, additional vocal engineering and production by Cairo Marques-Neto, and mixing by Mikey Weiland.


Smut, Tomorrow Comes Crashing

Smut, Tomorrow Comes CrashingSmut have released a new album called Tomorrow Comes Crashing, out now via Bayonet. The Chicago-based recorded the vivacious How the Light Felt follow-up with producer Aron Kobayashi Ritch (Momma) in Brooklyn, right after vocalist/lyricist Tay Roebuck and guitarist Andie Min got married. “Looking at the record as it is now, I can listen to each individual song and kind of place how we were feeling as a band in that moment, because it did feel like we were being very honest with ourselves,” Roebuck said in our Artist Spotlight interview. “If we were frustrated, the song was frustrated. If we were elated and excited about an opportunity, then the song was going to be more exciting and optimistic.”


Nick León, A Tropical Entropy

Nick León, A Tropical Entropy coverMiami-based producer Nick León has come through with his debut album, A Tropical Entropy, via TraTraTrax. Drawing inspiration from Joan Didion’s 1987 book Miami as well as “altered states of consciousness – both chemically induced and sleep-deprived,” the record brims with hypnotic and fluorescent moments, growing dreamier and more relaxed in its second half. It features collaborations with Ela Minus, Erika de Casier, Xander Amahd, Jonny From Space, Esty & Mediopicky, Lavurn, and Casey MQ.


Laura Stevenson, Late Great

Laura Stevenson, Late Great coverLaura Stevenson has released a new album called Late Great. It’s a striking record – just listen to the heartbreaking climax of lead single ‘Honey’ – and the singer-songwriter called it “a document of loss for sure, but it also draws the map of this exciting precipice that I’m standing on. I am making my own life now. With the record, with everything, this is the first time I get to call all the shots.” It was recorded and produced with John Agnello, with contributions from Jeff Rosenstock, Sammi Niss, James Richardson, Shawn Alpay, Kayleigh Goldsworthy, Chris Farren, Kelly Pratt, and Mike Brenner.


Isabella Lovestory, Vanity

Vanity album coverLurid, maximalist, and infectious, Vanity is the follow-up to Isabella Lovestory’s playful 2022 record Amor Hardcore. The Honduran experimental pop artist previewed it with a series of singles, including ‘Puchica’, ‘Putita Boutique’, ‘Telenovela’, ‘Gorgeous’, and ‘Eurotrash’. “Vanity has a metallic analog vibe: a robotic funeral,” Lovestory explained. “Ghost in the Shell mixed with a poppy ultra-feminine sound. Shiny yet rusty, fancy yet trashy, like ancient encrusted diamonds.” She added, “Thematically, this album explores fragility, how easily a mirror shatters, but it also explores the indestructible and eternal essence of beauty. I don’t mind when things break, I like to collect the pieces and create something new.”


Other albums out today:

Bruce Springsteen, Tracks II: The Lost Albums; Barbra Streisand, The Secret Of Life: Partners, Volume Two; Kevin Abstract, BLUSH; Jeanines, How Long Can It Last; Lightheaded, Thinking, Dreaming, Scheming; Daisy the Great, The Rubber Teeth Talk;
Zoh Amba, Sun; BC Camplight, A Sober Conversation; Deadguy, Near-Death Travel Services; Sean Nicholas Savage, The Knowing; Blonde Redhead, The Shadow of the Guest; Le Diouck, Grace Joke; GELO, League of My Own; Felly, Ambroxyde; Pi’erre Bourne, Made In Paris; HLLLYH, URUBURU; TDJ, TDJ; Moving Mountains, Pruning of the Lower Limbs; late night drive home, as I watch my life online; Gelli Haha, Switcheroo; Pleasure Pill, Hang a Star;  Daisychain, All In a Name; Melaine Dalibert & David Sylvian, Vermilion Hours.