Teether, the Melbourne-raised and London-based rapper and producer, has been leaning into the extremities of his sound with definite intention from the time he was a teenager, and, in doing so, has discovered a niche that bridges the grimy, boundary-pushing qualities of metal and punk with the wobbling atmosphere of psychedelically-leaning hip-hop. With his newest project Yearn IV, he has discovered, in many ways, a culmination of this venture: a testament to his dynamic, rough-around-the-edges sound.
As a child, Teether knew, undeniably, that he wanted to make music. His mother had a wide taste that spanned various deep cuts across the 1990s, including Sade, US3, and Buckshot LeFonque, and, combined with his father’s love for Bob Marley, these sounds enabled Teether to view himself from a young age as someone with a definite interest in music.
In high school, he formed a metal band, styled off of the thrash and death metal he had grown to love as he developed his own taste in music, and began writing songs and performing gigs with the group: a series of experiences that enabled him to develop into a fuller and more capable musician.
Yet, when the group eventually fizzled out after multiple years together, Teether had a realization. He wanted to learn to make music on his own: to execute his own vision directly. He began making hip-hop beats, learning to sample and finding, quickly, that the genre he was exploring contained many of the same elements he had grown to love in music as a whole, just in different manifestations.
“I think something that I really crave in music is extremes… I just can't really do sh*t that sits in the middle somewhere. I think rap as well… you can kind of feel it in your chest. The only difference is the sounds that you're using, but other than that, I think it's very low-end driven, very repetition based, very heavy, and the lyrics kind of are at the center of it.”
Yet, as Teether gained more and more experience producing, he couldn’t find anyone to rap over his beats locally; he, therefore, took it upon himself to finalize his vision. Coupled with his smooth, off-kilter delivery, his instrumentals took on a new life, formulating an idiosyncratic sonic experience that morphed and transformed with the needs of each individual track.
Now, eleven projects later, Teether has grown exponentially, finding a home in the rough and un-polished qualities of his sonic ventures.
“I'm a big believer [that] shit shouldn't sound too polished. I always want to make this sh*t in my room, and I think mixes should be based on your gut… And I think, if you were to listen to it for the first time, you might think that I'm not doing it right, or I'm not trying to do it this way. But this is just the way it sounds… It's not necessarily supposed to exist like this, where we're from and in that context, but neither was anything else that I think is worthwhile. I think I just really want to keep that energy like, who gives a f*ck if people like it?”
With Yearn IV, a collaborative effort with Australian producer Kuya Neil, completed, and a number of solo projects in the works, Teether continues to push his sound forward, finding in each track a representation of the extremities that his own ears crave.
The start of Telehealth’s journey into the Seattle post-punk scene was marked by a sense of disaster—lead songwriter Alexander Attitude felt the world coming to an end with the COVID-19 Pandemic, and in response, he returned to his punk-laden songwriting origins in the quiet of his bedroom.
For Yonkers-raised rapper Jay Cinema, the creative act has never been centered around a certain model of sound or intention—it’s always been a desire for self-expression and for the thrill that creation brings him, and hip-hop, in some ways, was simply the most obvious and the most comfortable avenue through which to pursue that. But after over eight years and 12 full-length projects engrossed in the art form, it’s the continuous growth, and a deepened understanding of his modes of expression, that have come to define his sound.
Portland rock outfit Jonny’s Day Out has been interweaving ambient, experimental passages with a straightforward indie ethos since their official re-formation in 2021, but when they sat down to work on their debut record, JDO, it was their decision to embrace the latter part of their sonic roots that came to define the band and their pursuits. Although the foundations of the group go back to Avery Haines’ and Blu Midyett’s childhood jams and busking endeavours, it was this recent shift in focus that truly cemented the band’s intentions— and the pure clarity and focus of the record is ample evidence of that fact.
Cooper Kenward has been writing songs, spread across various genres and modes of expression, since he was just a pre-teen in his bedroom messing around with his friends. The start of his solo endeavour, culminating most recently in the release of his fourth studio album Call Me the Knife, has served as more than simply a creative outlet over the past few years—it’s represented a return to the sort of expression, and the centrality of voice, that makes Kenward such an endearing storyteller.
While Ultra Lights may come across, at first glance, as a relatively young indie-rock effort out of Atlanta, it’s actually founded on a much deeper and much lengthier relationship to the genre and to the local scene. For John Robinson, the band’s founder, it represents the culmination of decades of experience as a songwriter—a personal passion project that has allowed him to explore a more self-focused side of his creative pursuits.
Menzies took its official form as the alternatingly blistering and eerily tranquil alt-country, post-punk efforts of Wellington-based songwriter Chris Brown with the release of the group’s debut album Holding My Cold Hand, Even Though Yours Is Warm in May. But it’s the ethos behind the record—one of stark intention and an utter disregard for expectation or unnecessary complications—that, beyond the genre descriptions, shines through every twist and turn on the record, stemming directly from Brown’s unflinchingly pure and direct approach to his own creative activity.
Toronto-based rapper and producer Gritfall has had a concrete idea of who he wanted to be artistically since he was stuck at home in middle school, bumping Odd Future on his iPod. But over the course of 17 full-length products and years of churning out of instrumentals, he’s honed his voice and his style in a way that, above all else, exudes a sharply defined focus and intention. Fall Classic, which Gritfall considers as his true debut project, serves as ample evidence of that fact.
James Eichman made his name in the Nashville scene with his prowess and versatility as a supporting guitarist, spending the last few years playing seemingly endless gigs for bands around the city. But as he continued to pursue his own songwriting ventures on the side, he steadily felt an itch to shift his focus in that direction— to face his own voice and his own modes of expression more fully. The fruits of those efforts came in his debut album St. Catherine Street, and in its spacious, tender musings, the project establishes Eichman as much more than just a skilled instrumentalist.
The pursuit of music, for Brooklyn-based songwriter May Rio, came initially by chance. After years of training as a painter and visual artist, she stumbled into a pawn shop in Rhode Island and, on a whim, came out with a guitar. But in those initial periods of learning the instrument, she discovered a feeling of freedom and lightness that had long since escaped her in her primary craft.
Almost none of Adult DVD’s members come from a distinctly synth or electronic-rooted background, but you wouldn’t be able to guess that in the slightest when you listen to their debut full-length record, Adult DVD. The energy and carefully bided absurdity are too intentionally wielded, too directly harnessed, to suspect otherwise.
Growing up in Los Angeles, Henry Morris always possessed a distinct feeling that some life-altering, earth-shaking event was waiting for him around the corner. But now that Morris has found his footing in the industry and carved out a niche for himself, he’s writing with a freedom and looseness of expression that starkly contrasts with his earlier work. While the life-changing moments came early, it’s the steady progression of his artistry that has cemented Morris as one of the rising stars of the indie scene.
When former college friends Chris Croarkin and Kevin Bendis first reconvened in New York to form Diary, there was an immediate sense that they wanted to pursue a guitar-driven pop sound— something they hadn’t fully gotten the opportunity to dive into through their ventures with other bands. Diary was born from that impulse.
For songwriter Brendan Wright, the Tiberius project— which began as a solo endeavour but has taken various shapes over the years as they’ve moved out of college and to the bustling DIY scene in Allston— has always been an exercise in vulnerability. Although their tracks don’t take on the same earnest confessionalism that was Wright’s hallmark during their earliest songwriting ventures, they have consistently bore a mark of undeniable honesty.
Since its earliest days, Swim Deep— the Birmingham-born indie pop group founded upon the teenage jams of vocalist Austin Williams and his host of friends— has operated on a sense of comradery: a collective sensibility and constant search to expand upon the foundations of the music of their youth. And now, through over a decade together as a band, five separate studio albums, and a stint with a major label, their newest release, Hum, represents a full recognition of the band’s current identity.
Artist Britney Santo, stage name $aint, listens to punk but loves High School Musical. She experiments with trap music and soul but identifies as a singer-songwriter. She has the voice of a jazz angel but cannot be tied down to one genre. She approaches life as a series of moments, but appreciates looking back in time.
Wadaness, the expansive songwriting project of Nashville-based musician Ryan Loftis, has now amassed an expansive and ever-growing discography, ranging from the vaporwave and electronica of the act’s earliest days to the prog-tinged surf rock of recent records Lagoonica and Tiki 101. Now, with a trio of albums on the horizon and Loftis’ creative juices flowing more freely than ever, he’s settled upon a creative imprint— and a continuous artistic ethos— that have come to define his catalog.
When Nicolle Swims first moved back to Seattle with the intention of starting Black Ends, “gunk pop” was the indeterminate label they etched out in their mind that would guide the band’s sonic output. In reality, though, that term was primarily a way to idealize the nebulous blend of punk, DIY, and psych rock ethos that permeated Swims’ demos.