When Bristol three-piece Superlove released their debut album in 2022, they were able to demonstrate their talents not only as musicians but as songwriters and producers.

By gaining a better understanding of what they wanted as studio musicians, they could then focus on what a live performance means to them. They recognized that a feeling a song has during its performance is instrumental to their identity and that the next album should prove that.

“It was off the back of playing some shows shortly after the [debut] album release and seeing the initial reaction to how certain songs would make us feel when we performed them,” lead vocalist and bassist Jacob Rice said. “A lot of what came most naturally to us we realized is what audiences want, the big riffs and big choruses. We also thought it was time to start defining ourselves as more of a rock outfit as a lot of our songs fall on the edge. We just had a realization of that being the world we belong in.”

For this recording process they wanted to creatively push themselves in a way they hadn’t the first time around. Consistency was key for them, yet they weren’t afraid to be adventurous.

“We wanted a really sharp and focused sounding album that still flashed elements of our band's creative sound,” Rice said. “The dynamics were really important for us when compiling the track list. Making sure the softer moments hit at the right time to lift the heavier elements of the album.”

They also pushed themselves to write many of the songs that ended up on the final track listing of follow:noise in the studio. They found the process of taking time away specifically to write in a studio to be extremely challenging yet gratifying.

“It was rewarding as we found ourselves every day working on a brand new song,” Rice said. “It was exciting as it all was coming together in front of us. Before, we had every detail within the songs written when making Colours before going to record, so this challenge for us gave us new life with the whole process.”

On their last day in the studio, “Gut Feeling” was written within a few hours. It was the type of song that none of them saw coming, but knew it was a strong addition to the album. While it didn’t make the contenders of songs to release before the album, the three singles they did choose felt the most representative of the tone of follow:noise.

“GO!”, “Something Good” and “Easier” showcase the challenges they rose to in the studio and the way they wanted their live performances to be represented in their recordings.

“These three songs instantly made sense to become singles,” Rice said. “We didn’t have a single doubt about that. I think one thing that drew us to these three specifically was the explosiveness of the tracks; how instantly recognizable and the identity of the songs.”

Photo courtesy of Dana Gorab

V Festival 2004. We were young (well, younger), carefree and happy. A ragtag group of friends and lovers that spent most of their time together. Although we had all started going to festivals in the 90s, this was our first V… well, maybe not some of the others but it was certainly my first V. And my only V but that’s another story.

Now, being the sort of people we were (still are?), we were fully loaded. Enough alcohol to fill a swimming pool, an amount of mushrooms to give us some real feels (and no we’re not talking mushrooms you can buy in Sainsburys), at least an eighth of smoke each (remember when it was empirically measured?) and a cache of pills. Our usual festival stash.

Now, as you can imagine, my memory is not picture perfect of this event, so before you continue reading please be aware there may be inaccuracies regarding who played where and when, and even what day I’m talking about. That being said, let’s move on with the story.

I’m not gonna mention the names of people I talk about here as I don’t know if they’d appreciate me talking about their hedonism during their early, or earlier, years. We had myself and my girlfriend at the time; her sister and her boyfriend who was also the bass player of the band I was in; my longtime friend of many, many years and his wife; and finally the guitarist from the band I’d mentioned previously. We’d spent that Friday indulging in all our vices and watched many good shows and when we awoke on that Saturday we were still feeling it.

After a slow start to the day, the Saturday vibes were picking up. The beer was flowing, the smoke was burning and the pills were popping. I think the remainder of the shrooms were for Sunday. We were having a lot of fun, I know that for certain. But I couldn’t tell you who we saw play that day. I think we may have seen The Dandy Warhols at some point, and I remember Pink and Muse playing on a large stage round the corner, but like I say I could be wrong about that. All I do know is that we kind of split up doing our own thing and we reconvened once people had seen what they wanted to see.

We all got together again and there was a gap in the acts, but we were in the mood so someone checked the lineup for the day. Five out of the seven of us were 70s-born 80s kids and we spotted The Human League was about to start. None of us had owned any of their music and at that point we thought we knew at least one of their songs so we thought it’d be worth a look and headed to the tented stage they were playing.

The Human League started and we were pleasantly surprised that we knew the first song. Don’t ask me what it was now, I really do not know. But then they played the second song, and lo and behold, we knew it. And we knew the third. And the fourth, and so on and so on.

The gig was absolutely amazing. The feeling of pure joy at this unexpected performance, all the while surrounded by the people you love. The overwhelming feeling manifested itself by way of tears of joy from everyone in our group as we hugged, jumped and sang along with what we now consider to be classic after classic.

Even though that entire festival is a bit of a blur and memories fade and merge with other festival memories, that experience will stay with me forever. I can still remember the exact spot in the tent where we stood.

Thank you, The Human League, for one of the best and most memorable shows I have ever been to. Thank you, The Human League, for making me cry.

Photo courtesy of Ted Simha-Webster

While I know magic doesn’t exist, the feeling that music can instill might be the closest thing to it.

At a young age I always associated music with positive experiences. Early mornings in the car with my dad driving to hockey practice we would blast songs to get hyped up. We’d sing along to the radio on a warm summer day at the cottage. There were so many little life experiences that were enhanced to a level only music could bring. People just generally seemed happier while music was playing and when my parents would turn on the speakers the day would instantly get better.

I began playing trumpet at a young age through my school’s music program. I instantly fell in love with creating melodies and with the idea that I could provide people with an experience. I felt that I could achieve a greater sense of personal value if I had the skills to create an experience for people that I associated with such positivity. I constantly listened to CDs of my favourite trumpet players and wished so badly that I would be able to play like them someday. My first experience at a live concert was seeing one of my favourite trumpet players, Herb Albert. It was also the first time that I had ever heard songs that I spent hours listening to being played right in front of me. I have to assume my jaw was on the floor. There was something so undeniably cool about being up on stage and having a group of musicians collaborate so well together to make something so sonically beautiful. I thought it was such an entrancing combination of talent, creativity and confidence.

I have long been a fan of rock music so naturally I aspired to play the guitar. During high school I idolised bands like Hollerado, The Sam Roberts band and the Arkells. Playing music had instantly become a huge passion of mine and I wanted to be like the people in all my favourite rock bands. I knew joining a band was something I needed to do and when I first took lessons, I heard that bass players “didn’t grow on trees” so I immediately started learning. Meeting like-minded people through the music scene and being able to hone a skill where I could express myself really solidified my love for playing. It is a feeling that has only continued to grow throughout the years.

Music is a lifelong pursuit and even though I now know how the trick is done it still feels like magic. I feel very grateful to have music as such a large part of my life.

Our music is a balance of speed and control, with moments of intense acceleration and sudden shifts in tempo that keep the listener on the edge of their seat.

It wasn’t always like that.

In the beginning it was James and Mike, playing in a country band called William Joseph James. Those two met while shoveling their driveways one winter and realized that both were musicians and like beer so they should play music together and drink beer.

With Mike on drums and James on bass, they played frequent residencies as they grew in popularity. But as any band knows, it lasts as long as it lasts, and then it doesn’t.

Members of that group knew Michael and heard his self-released solo record, which was a mix of folk and indie songwriting. Michael spent most of his musical past behind a drum set, playing in bands like The Burning Paris and The Living Sea. After a tryout for the new version of their band, they heard something different In Michael and began to play as The Additions. A new sound that was more rock centric, exploring crunchy tones and introspective songwriting.

The Additions had a strong start with a quick ending.

The story continues like they all do; the drummer switches to guitar and reveals that he’s actually a super technical guitar player in disguise. Heavier pedals are introduced, heavier riffs are written, no drummers in sight. Drummers are one of the hardest positions to fill in a band. You need commitment from them, but you need chemistry more.

The band's debut album, You Are Not What You Do, is a raw and honest portrayal of personal struggles and experiences. Released just as the pandemic lockdown began, it hit college radio and built an online audience with limited, yet favorable reviews.

Marc’s name was mentioned several times by Mike as a potential new drummer. They are friends who go on winter hikes together and hurt themselves frequently on mountain bikes. In other words, chemistry.

The night after their first practice with Marc on drums, they immediately knew he was a way better drummer than Mike, HA! Seriously though, he is, and Mike knows it. We sounded… Great.

Trailer Swift's sound is a blend of moody melodies and distorted riffs, soaked in various sub-genres of rock, creating a sound that is both unique and familiar. By drawing from different styles and influences, they have created a sound that is distinctly their own, while still being accessible and relatable to a wide audience. Their music commands attention and leaves a lasting impression. Their songs are a delicate balance of strength and vulnerability, with lyrics that speak to the heart and melodies that stay with you long after the music has stopped.

So, it appears they have themselves a new and committed band again. Their writing is collaborative, and they have energy and ideas to spare. All of them contribute with parts and arrangements, mixing ideas and pulling from 25+ years of musical influences. They get to be loud, hard, fast, technical and moody. They get to play what they are feeling and explore. That’s not work, that’s play.

What sets Trailer Swift apart?

There is a unique and modern approach to their songs. A raw infectious energy, driving rhythms and catchy hooks. Their lyrics are often accompanied by melodic and dynamic guitar work that ranges from gentle strumming to powerful, distortion-heavy riffs. Emotive and gruff vocals conveying a sense of vulnerability and honesty… And yes, their name.

Ok, so, hear us out. We think band names are cool, but they are all taken, and you know it. Every band out there is White Lion this, White Lion that. We can’t keep track, and no one remembers your name. Tell us the last time someone came up to you and said Hey! How’s (insert White Lion band name here) doing? Never. No one remembers your band name! They always say, what’s it called again? And then forget it all over again.

People remember the name Trailer Swift. It makes them laugh and we think that helps. When people come up to us they ask how Trailer Swift is doing and we say great!

It’s also a trucking company, and now that you know that you’re going to see those Swift trailers everywhere! You’re welcome.

In all seriousness, it’s silly and we love it. It was either that or Wack Nicolson.

If you’re not sold on us yet, please just enjoy this distracting bit of Game of Thrones fodder to help change your troubled mind.

*The music is full of unexpected twists and turns, like a labyrinthine maze that is constantly shifting and changing. The melodies are both haunting and enchanting, like the songs of the forest sprites that dance among the trees. The bassline rumbles like a giant dragon's roar, while the guitar riffs shimmer like the scales on its back. The vocals soar above the instrumentation, like a hawk soaring high above the treetops, their words carrying the weight of the universe as they explore themes of self-discovery, identity, and personal struggle. The end.

*Written by ChatGPT

Ever since my teenage years, I've been immersed in the world of music. Back then, I was driven by a relentless pursuit of success and recognition, seeking external validation to affirm my worth. I convinced myself that reaching the next milestone or earning another accolade would somehow prove my deservingness of happiness.

Ever read The Velvet Rage? Anyways, as I recently turned 30, I know deep down that I have been gradually unlearning these damaging beliefs over the past several years.

When was the moment I knew I wanted to make music?

Surprisingly, the answer came to me more recently than I had anticipated. I could easily say that I knew it from the moment I opened my mouth at the age of 8 and started to sing. However, the genuine realization struck me when I returned home to my parents' house amidst the peak of the pandemic.

During those uncertain times, I reconnected with my voice and my keyboard in a way I had never experienced before. It was during this period that I wrote a song called "Twenties", which transformed my perception of myself and my career. It was no longer a mere desire to make music; it became a need within me. Creating music allowed me to explore my pain, reflect on my upbringing, decipher the intricacies of my relationships and grow into a kinder human being.

In my parents' attic, I felt like a child again, rediscovering the pure joys of life without the weight of financial obligations and survival. It was a time of queer liberation, where I could freely embrace my emotions, channel them into artistic expressions and truly live. But as the demands of reality knocked at my door, I faced the challenge of maintaining that spirit out in the real world.

Nevertheless, today I stand with newfound clarity and an overwhelming sense of excitement. I am eager to share the musical reflections that emerged from the depths of my parents' attic, encapsulated in an album I aptly titled The Garden. As a younger version of myself, I used to proclaim, "Dad, I'm going to sell out the Garden." Although I haven't achieved all the things I once envisioned, I am here, and I am content. And unexpectedly, I've come to realize that this, in itself, is the greatest triumph - the victory I never knew was a victory.

So, let me ask you: Are you okay? Are you truly present in this moment? If not, please know that I'm thinking of you. And in any way possible, I would love to be your friend and remind you that you possess immense goodness within you. The world needs you, and so do I.

Photo courtesy of Bobby Murphy

I started playing piano at a very young age and was always praised for my musical abilities growing up. I knew I craved attention from performing, but the only art programs I had access to was community theater and a pretty sad marching band in my tiny, rural, western Kentucky town.

My years of piano study landed me a scholarship to attend college in Memphis, Tenn. Memphis was a big city for this small town boy. I was quickly thrown into jazz ensembles, rock bands, and even formed a small trio with my friends and started to perform around town. I don’t remember the exact moment but it was somewhere around my freshman year that I knew this is what I was meant to be doing.

The feedback that you get from a live audience is incredibly validating. I knew I had something and that started to quickly evolve. The greatest decision I made was to move to Memphis permanently. I know a lot of people who have careers in entertainment that wouldn’t necessarily agree. However, Memphis taught me to hustle while giving me daily opportunities to perform and evolve as an artist without busting my ass in New York City or Los Angeles waiting tables five nights a week. Instead, I was on stage, honing my craft.

Had I moved to Los Angeles in my early 20s, I might not have had as much success. I spent 12 years in Memphis and now in my 30s, I finally live in LA. I got to cut my teeth in one of the most legendary music cities in the world while being able to afford to live as a working artist. And I also grew the fuck up, so I have some sort of wits about me out here in the great Wild Wild West.

Photo courtesy of Jon Del Real

While the world was spending most of 2020 indoors, Molly Kirschenbaum was planning their first solo album set to be released under the moniker Goblynne, titled Hot! :( . From this planning came a character: a Western American beauty, blonde, blue-eyed, a little tortured, a little haunted… and as this character was progressing, so were Kirschenbaum’s ideas.

A one-person show of the same title was performed in 2021 as a test-run for the songs that had been written. While a lot of that material did not end up on the final album, it was their first step back into performing and getting the album to the finish line.

“I used that show to play with a lot of the material I wanted to explore on the album: the performance of femininity, desire, pretending to be someone you're not, discovering that both the people you desire and the people you wish you could be, are, to some extent, part of you,” Kirschenbaum said. “Some stuff in that show, in my opinion, worked, and some totally didn't, but that solo show process became the foundation for the final album.”

Despite all the progress they had made with the album and this character, a major setback happened in 2021. One day, their hard drive fell off their desk and the entire project was lost. In retrospect, Kirschenbaum sees it as a blessing in disguise. Yes, they had to rebuild the entire album from scratch. This time around, however, they had a more clear picture of what they wanted it to be. This time around they created something more refined.

Anothering challenging aspect of creating Hot! :( was diving into the themes of gender and vanity.

“It can be really exhausting to think this much about those themes without driving yourself to a really...fascinating....place, mentally,” they said. “But it's also been really rewarding to find the humor in that and learn to take some of it less seriously. I've learned I don't have to force myself to know exactly what or who I am at every moment.”

Kirschenbaum jokes that they hope the album heals every listener completely, but truly wants these songs to translate as an uplifting message.

“I honestly just hope it maybe encourages people to dress up and, like, wear something they wouldn't normally wear, or something they're afraid to wear, and chase whatever makes them feel beautiful, desirable and at home in their body. And hot,” they said. “It's that simple. And if you are a rando homophobe or something with problems and you stumbled upon this album, like, by accident, or something, maybe it will encourage you to not fucking hate trans and queer people for no reason.”

While a live show as Goblynne involves wigs, scaly gloves and a fake meditation app, their debut album channels everything they love about performance. They created a pop landscape for themselves that allows a safe space to be truly unique.

Photo courtesy of Katherine Wizeman

Happy Pride Month!

As we celebrate this important time, it's crucial to acknowledge the challenges faced by the LGBTQ+ community. Recent conservative backlash, the "war on woke" spearheaded by figures like Ron DeSantis, and a resurgence of conservative, Christian values have put our safety and well-being at risk. 

Photo courtesy of Jeremy Sobocan

Growing up in rural British Columbia, Canada with five acres of a mountain acting as a backyard, a religious family background and not much in the way of local stages or music industry… It’s not the typical origin story for a gay pop artist, but for me, it was my reality - and proof that sometimes going against the grain is the best way to be your most authentic self, regardless of how scary the first steps can be.

My childhood in the Okanagan was amazing. It’s one of the most beautiful places in the world, with ski hills in the winter and beaches, camping, hiking and biking around in the summer. It’s truly an awe-inspiring place.

During my adolescence, I had a more limited perspective on popular music. There was a lot of faith-based music played around my home, and we didn’t subscribe to MTV or MuchMusic, so my musical knowledge was honestly a little bit lacking. It wasn’t until the huge boom in reality television singing competitions that my eyes were really opened to the music industry, and introduced me to so many songs from decades and genres I had completely missed out on until then. This was a huge inspiration to me and all these new musical influences really made me tap into my creative side, make music and perform original songs.

My newfound love for various genres and eras of music led to me enrolling in some vocal lessons, guitar lessons and joining different talent competitions and musical theatre programs at school. These contests and theatre programs really helped me find my place and my identity. Before this, I never really felt like I belonged, and this new confidence and perspective really gave me the drive and confidence in myself to realize that I wanted to do music in a big way. I also realized that the Okanagan probably wasn’t the place to conquer the music industry from.

As a gay man in a small town, I ended up finding the lack of representation for gay people, and the music industry as a whole to be a bit stifling, so I made the move to Vancouver where I connected with so many different artists and writers and creatives.

Vancouver is where I have truly felt heard. I’ve spent years writing music, recording songs and releasing singles, and this is a space where I feel like I can be myself and create my art. I want my music to represent my journey, and maybe help out other members of the LGBTQ community who may not feel like they’ve found their place yet, or who are struggling with embracing all aspects of who they are. As a testament to my journey and what I hope will be an inspiration to my community, I’ve been preparing my debut album, Louder Than Words, which will arrive later this year. I intentionally chose “Can You Hear Me”, a total pop-anthem dedicated to being yourself, living in the moment and having zero regrets, as the first single. During Pride Month and beyond, I really hope this song resonates with the community, and gives everyone the courage to truly be themselves and not think twice about it.