Cossmo is a Swiss indie artist who (I have on good authority) is actually named Mauro Stocker. As Cossmo he released two previous EP's and now has a new album titled so much noise, not a sound. 

Cossmo's songs are described as "indie-pop straight from the soul, capturing snapshots of his life and wrapping his thoughts in gentle melancholy and dreamlike textures... music that exists somewhere between wistfulness and lightness." He's played numerous live shows including bandXost in 2023 and 2024, and his previous tracks have earned Swiss radio airplay and national playlist spots.

After two years with the Swiss label FM Music Group, Cossmo's new album marks his return to full independence, with a more acoustic, intimate and honest sound. Thematically he explores "deeply personal experiences in a collection of songs about inner chaos, quiet moments, letting go and finding a home inside yourself." Written everywhere from the Swiss mountains to a campsite to Cossmo's living room, the album reflects this wide geographical and emotional journey. 

"welcome" begins with a fascinating mixture of LoFi location sounds and studio-recorded piano and vocals. Cossmo's voice has a unique, slightly nasal and definitely vulnerable quality similar to Bright Eyes or Jake Bugg. This track is a "welcome" for us, though Cossmo seems lost in a wilderness of unrequited love. "summer rain" is a folky rocker that starts out so LoFi that I mistook a piano for a banjo, but as we progress with drums, guitars and rich vocal harmonies, the song totally soars and sounds suspiciously like a Hit. If the other songs are as good as this one, we're really in for something!

"home alone" is a swirly, acoustic-based folk-pop wonder where Cossmo reveals an unexpected alto in his chorus vocals. The song starts great as-is, then surprises with a hard-rocking third section (this will soon be revealed as a Cossmo specialty). "lost with you" is a painfully intimate acoustic tune where our narrator lists all the ways he wants to be lost with his object of love: "I wanna brush my teeth next to you / Watch the moon light up the sky so blue / I wanna lie on your chest when I cry / Run out of tears, let them dry." The quiet room sound adds to the closeness of Cossmo's emotions and we feel we're right there with him.

"floating" is a highly introspective tune that literally starts in the sky ("Scared I will hit the ground / Hoping that it won't make a sound") then indicates that the floating is perhaps drug or dance-induced. In the end the singer admits "All my pieces scattered on the bottom of the sea... So who's gonna save me now?" This is yet another tune that starts gently but blasts with unexpected power in the second half. "like a river" is said to be the centerpiece of the EP: "a quiet, gentle song born from feelings of noise, overwhelm, and inner unease, capturing a moment of emotional stillness." Structurally it reminded me of "Mother" by Pink Floyd. Hearing this song the first time, I was sure Cossmo had a female harmony singer, but it's all him. And once again, he provides a third, final section that totally puts the capper on the tune, like it was in his back pocket all along.

I admit my first thought with this album was that I was in for some interesting LoFi experiments, but the sophistication of the songwriting and singing put me in my place. Trust me, it's a place you'll also want to be!

Become A Fan

War Torn begins with the burden of a premise that could sink a lesser producer: humanitarian hip-hop staged at cinematic scale, with marquee rappers sharing space with singers, spoken textures, and production built for widescreen drama. HZPROD avoids turning the record into a lecture by treating conflict as something heard in fragments: a hook, a verse, a voice cutting through the mix, a beat that keeps moving even when the subject matter gets bleak. The album has polish, but its identity comes from the way that polish is pressed against grief, survival, and belief.

HZPROD approaches War Torn with the eye of a filmmaker as much as the ear of a producer. The album is not built around one narrator. It moves through a rotating cast that includes ShoeGang, Zombie Juice, The Game, KXNG Crooked, Charles Hamilton, Marco Vernice, Sashaa, and Siggas. Each guest brings a different temperature to the project, and HZPROD uses that variety to keep the record moving through conflict, survival, and the attempt to locate hope when the ground keeps shifting.

“Save The Children (Intro)” opens with the sense of scanning through radio frequencies. There are field-recording textures, cinematic details, and a beat that gives the album its first pulse. “AFRICA,” featuring Marco Vernice, Siggas, and Sashaa, settles into a straightforward 4/4 rhythm with polished production choices and strong vocal harmonies. The writing carries some of the album’s sharper imagery, especially in lines like, “I’m from a place where you’ll be surprised to see an old man working as a gardener or trying to gold pan,” followed by the brutal clarity of, “I’m from a place where you gotta kill to survive, only the rich are really alive.”

“War Within,” featuring Horseshoe G.A.N.G. and Zombie Juice, moves into darker territory. The cadence and overall approach are familiar, but the rapping is solid and the hook does its job. “Slave Music,” with Marco Vernice and Charles Hamilton, has some strong moments, while “Peace?” brings KXNG Crooked, The Game, and Mickey Factz into one of the album’s sharper lyrical spaces. “Dreamer,” featuring Marco Vernice and Siggas, has a good groove, and “God Is The Key,” featuring Mickey Factz and Marco Vernice, pushes closer to a pop-centered structure.

​The songwriting does not attempt to reinvent hip-hop architecture, but War Torn is polished, focused, and carefully assembled. I liked the range of singers across the album, and the lyrics shift enough from track to track to keep the humanitarian theme from flattening into one repeated idea. Some lines are clever, some are direct, and some hit with real weight. HZPROD keeps the project pointed toward a larger purpose without losing sight of rhythm, hooks, and performance. Take a listen.

Some genres never really disappear. They retreat from the spotlight, maintained by musicians who remain devoted to the details that defined them in the first place. Brian Hunsaker’s “Lie To You” does not treat 1980s metal as a source of inspiration to be modernized or reinterpreted. Instead, it approaches the era with remarkable precision, recreating its aesthetic choices with the kind of dedication usually reserved for preservation work.

From the opening moments, Hunsaker commits fully to the sound. The drum tones, guitar distortion, vocal production, and overall mix all point toward the metal sound that was very popular for a couple of years. Even the orchestral elements are used in service of making the song feel bigger, aiming for the kind of arena-sized presentation that was commonplace during metal’s commercial peak. It is impressive how consistently the production stays within those boundaries without slipping into caricature.

The songwriting follows a familiar rock structure built around strong hooks, polished performances, and a clear sense of momentum. There are few surprises along the way, but that appears to be the point. Hunsaker is not interested in deconstructing the genre or pushing it somewhere new. He is focused on delivering the experience as faithfully as possible.

Part of what makes the song work is that it understands scale. The orchestration adds weight and drama, but it never overwhelms the core band performance. The guitars remain at the center of the mix, the rhythm section provides a sturdy foundation, and the vocals carry the melody with enough force to compete against the dense production. The balance helps the song avoid sounding cluttered and gives each section room to land with impact.

Because of that, “Lie To You” will likely reveal its appeal almost immediately. Fans of bands such as Judas Priest, Iron Maiden, and Quiet Riot will recognize the vocabulary right away. The soaring guitars, polished production, and larger-than-life presentation all draw from that tradition.

​I didn't hear this as an attempt to reinvent anything. It came across as a tribute to a specific chapter of heavy metal history, crafted by someone who clearly understands what made that music resonate in the first place. If you've been missing that sound, Hunsaker delivers it with conviction.

brianhunsaker.net

Pop-rock songs often succeed or fail on how quickly they establish an identity. “Leave Me In The Dark” wastes little time getting to the point, introducing its central melody and rhythmic pulse almost immediately. Secret Treehouse understands the value of a strong hook, building the song around repetition, momentum, and a sense of familiarity that becomes increasingly satisfying as the track progresses.

The track opens with the full band locked into a steady 4/4 groove. Clean guitar lines weave around a tightly controlled rhythm section, where syncopated bass work provides just enough movement beneath a direct, unembellished beat. The vocals arrive with clarity and purpose, guiding the song toward a hook that appears quickly and proves difficult to shake once it lands.

One of the song's strengths is its sense of balance. The arrangement remains active without becoming crowded, allowing each instrument to contribute to the groove while leaving plenty of room for the vocal melody. The band never overplays its hand. Every element serves the song, reinforcing the chorus and maintaining a level of focus that keeps the track moving at a steady pace.

Much of the song's appeal comes from its cyclical design. The verses and chorus continually return to one another, each pass carrying a little more weight than the last. Rather than chasing dramatic shifts or introducing unexpected detours, Secret Treehouse relies on repetition and incremental changes to keep the energy moving forward. Those recurring patterns become part of the song's identity, giving it a sense of momentum without sacrificing accessibility.

​“Leave Me In The Dark” embraces a traditional pop-rock framework from beginning to end. There are no abrupt turns, extended instrumental passages, or experimental flourishes competing for attention. Instead, the band keeps the arrangement concise and focused on melody. It's easy to understand why this was chosen as a single. The song is immediate, memorable, and built around a chorus that sticks in your head long after it ends. Strong performances and a clear understanding of what makes a pop-rock song work make this an easy track to enjoy.

Post-punk has always thrived on momentum. The best records in the genre balance tension and release, pairing sharp rhythms with melodies that linger long after the song ends. On Videopticons, The Zaxons tap into that tradition while bringing enough personality to make the album their own. Across these songs, the band favors immediacy over polish, relying on memorable hooks, restless energy, and a clear affection for the darker corners of British guitar music.

"Keswick Cutouts" opens the album with confidence. The bass line does much of the heavy lifting, locking into a groove that provides the foundation for an infectious vocal melody. It's the kind of opener that quickly establishes the band's strengths. The title track follows with a darker mood. There are clear echoes of Joy Division in its atmosphere and pacing, but the song maintains its own identity through its driving rhythm section and understated sense of urgency.

"Mumpsimus" provides a strong contrast with shimmering guitars that brighten the palette without sacrificing the album's core aesthetic. "Bidston" was one of my favorites. The vocal performance stands out immediately, and the song's groove gives it a natural sense of movement. Midway through, the arrangement takes an interesting turn, incorporating Eastern-inspired scales and a guitar solo that adds another dimension to the track.

The album continues to build momentum with "Adrian Knows" and "Kingsgate Spiral," both of which reinforce the band's ability to write memorable melodies without abandoning the rough edges that define their sound. "Rhys Replica" highlights jangly guitar work that fits perfectly within the album's framework, while closer "Television Play" provides a satisfying conclusion.

​The lo-fi production suits the material well. Some songs embrace a rougher recording approach than others, but the variations never feel distracting. If anything, they contribute to the album's character. Videopticons succeeds because of its combination of strong songwriting, energetic performances, and an attitude that never feels forced. There is a sense of enthusiasm running through the entire record that makes it easy to return to, and plenty of worthwhile moments waiting to be discovered.

Become A Fan

Many musicians spend years accumulating songs before finally assembling them into a cohesive statement. On The Beast I'm Meant to Be, Maryland songwriter and guitarist Matt Wolejsza presents a collection that reflects that kind of long-term development. The album pulls from decades of rock and metal influences while drawing equally from personal experiences, social observations, and the realities of everyday life. Rather than locking itself into a single lane, the record moves comfortably between styles, united by Wolejsza's guitar work and direct songwriting approach.

Wolejsza's roots in heavy music are easy to spot. The influence of Metallica surfaces throughout the album, particularly in the guitar tones and rhythmic drive, but The Beast I'm Meant to Be reaches beyond straightforward metal. The songs tackle topics ranging from online culture and mental health to loss and self-reflection, giving the album a broad thematic scope.

"Stupidity Gone Viral" opens with a strong groove and sets the tone well. As a producer myself, I noticed that the vocals sit prominently above the instrumentation rather than blending deeply into the arrangement. Whether intentional or not, it creates a distinct presentation that works for the song, and I enjoyed the overall atmosphere.

The title track brings together grunge textures and classic metal influences, resulting in one of the album's more dynamic performances. There is a clear connection to the rock and metal sounds of the 1980s, which gives the song a nostalgic quality without reducing it to imitation. "The Lion Must Roar" follows a similar path and embraces those larger-than-life rock traditions with confidence.

One of the strongest cuts is "The Clear Check Blues," which combines unexpected chip-tune elements, expressive guitar solos, and memorable songwriting. "The Door That Won't Open (feat. Clydeman)" is another highlight, while "After Humans" stands out thanks to an excellent groove that carries the song forward from beginning to end.

​The variety of styles is one of the reasons the album works so well. Wolejsza moves between hard rock, metal, blues, and other influences without the transitions feeling abrupt or disconnected. The songwriting provides a consistent thread throughout, allowing each song to bring something different while still serving the larger whole. The Beast I'm Meant to Be is an enjoyable listen with plenty of memorable moments along the way. Recommended.

Connecticut folk-country artist Erik Rabasca has just released a new album on Highest Frequency Records titled New Scrolls. The label correctly describes it as "a rootsy voyage through country, folk & swing where classic roadhouse grit meets intimate storytelling while touching the cosmos. Drawing on the lyrical spirit of Dylan, Marley and John Prine, New Scrolls shares hard-earned wisdom with weary optimism."

Rabasca already has a track record under his previous performing name Light Warriors, opening for multi-Grammy winner Jon Batiste at his Alive at Five concert appearance, as well as Mike Farris, SOJA and Easy Star All Stars. His new music aims to "step fully into the acoustic spotlight: stripped back, road-worn and right where he belongs."

Rabasca of course plays guitars and sings, but he also adds keys and bass. When he's got room he welcomes his studio band, including JP Geoghegan (drums), Bobo Lavorgna (bass) and a host of backing singers. The tracks were mostly recorded at Highest Frequency Studio in Lyons, Colorado, with mastering by Davey Diamonds at the Colorado Recording Society.

"Wise UP" opens with a classic country shuffle, similar in structure to Kenny Rogers' "The Gambler" and has a similar theme about getting caught up in the moment and "failing to see the suffering made by their own desires... how they've lost control within." Rabasca plays most of the jangly stringed instruments, with guest Yako Prodis on bass. "Foolin' Yourself" slows down into a reflective folk mode, though the slide and lap steel always edge us back into county. Lyrically Rabasca does remind me of John Prine, though perhaps a touch less edgy and more of an "everyman." 

"First Time Before" marks the entry of Denise Jones on backing vocals from now to the end. This is a train-tempo excursion celebrating new loves or experiences with almost giddy vocal abandon (like a young and energetic Dylan) and a Johnny Cash-like lead break. "Rituals, Lies & Sin" is a harder-edged rocker with a list of grievances we can all share ("I don't want to go to work today / Lining someone's stocks with my blood / I don't want to go to war / No one truly lives in the end"). "Come All Ye Faithful" is not a Christmas carol but has a sweet and reverential tone with just acoustics and strings, plus heavenly harmonies from Denise Jones. 

"Love Resounds" is perhaps my favorite track for its rich arrangement, crystalline guitars and (again) amazing harmonies. The final song is a live track "Try A Little Kindness" featuring The Connecticut Hope Collective: Shandy Lawson (mandolin), Brian Larney (organ) and Lys Guillorn, Chandra & Muddy Rivers (backing vocals). No, this is not that Glen Campbell song, nor is it "Try A Little Tenderness" but I daresay it's almost as good as both those classics.

Americana and country and even folk lovers may well love these songs by Eric Rabasca!

After releasing the Good Woman EP in 2018, Lou Richards spent several years performing primarily within her Buddhist community before returning to the songs that first introduced her as a songwriter. That period of reflection seems woven into The Sage and the Rose, a collection that combines revisited material with newer compositions. The album moves through themes of motherhood, relationships, spirituality, and the natural world with a quiet confidence, embracing simplicity while remaining emotionally resonant.

Richards works with a restrained palette throughout the album. Delicate fingerpicked guitar provides the foundation, while her soft-spoken vocals drift gently through the arrangements. The music recalls contemporary folk artists such as Julie Byrne, and there are moments that bring to mind the intimate and pastoral qualities of Vashti Bunyan’s work.

The opener, “Come Home,” serves as an effective introduction to the album’s overall aesthetic. Built around a slow 3/4 rhythm, the song develops gradually, relying on subtle changes in texture and atmosphere rather than dramatic shifts. Richards’ vocals are airy, breathy, and understated. Many of the album’s details reveal themselves over time, with small adjustments in tone and arrangement creating movement beneath the surface.

​That sense of calm remains a defining characteristic throughout the record. Most of these songs move at an unhurried pace, drawing attention to melody, lyrical sentiment, and performance. Percussion appears only occasionally on tracks such as “The Sage and the Rose,” “Wild Love,” and “Snow Song,” adding gentle variation while preserving the album’s contemplative mood.

One of my favorites was “Red Shirt,” which brought to mind some of Sufjan Stevens’ more intimate work. The song combines a memorable melody with an understated emotional weight that fits naturally within the album’s broader themes. That said, I didn’t find a weak song here. Each track contributes to the album’s identity and strengthens its overall character.

​The songs on The Sage and the Rose differ in their details, but they all inhabit the same emotional space. Richards creates that sense of continuity through thoughtful songwriting, understated performances, and arrangements that trust quiet moments to carry weight. The result is an album that remains focused on its central mood from beginning to end while rewarding close attention to its smaller gestures. For listeners drawn to reflective contemporary folk, there is plenty here to absorb.

Okay, so here's this guy from Virginia called Pseud Sapien (try as I might, I could not discover his real name!). He describes his music as landing "on the weirdo spectrum, erring on the side of being too strange for most people." His second album (free on Bandcamp) is called Waiting for My Cancer to Arrive (Mood Swingin'!). 

But will you want it? Good question for you, but not for me! Sapien mentions an early love for The Beatles, followed by a "pretentious" obsession with "Trout Mask Replica" and similar difficult music (I think he may be my lost brother!). The first time I played this album, my iPhone jumped out the window and ran screaming down the street, was run over and died instantly. Once over that shock, I was able to see Sapien's music as Zappa or King Crimson sped up 1000x. Among indie music I was reminded of Billy Baldwin (previously reviewed here) or Mike Keneally. Sapien compares himself to Mr. Bungle (multi-genre) or Snarky Puppy (compositional layering and density) but ultimately says "I see myself as a floating voice on the internet with the sole purpose of art."

Playing a track for my pal Don, he commented: "The drummer is off the wall!" But this is the work of Sapien and nobody else, which makes it even more insane! He does mention drumming in the past, along with guitar, bass and vocals "in a variety of band contexts." Sapien admits he "doesn't have much to show for my music in terms of numbers, but I have art to show for it, which is what matters to me." And now my point comes full circle, where (despite this rave review) I may wind up being one of Sapien's few fans. But let's see what happens!

Thematically Sapien describes this as "a concept album about an alien scout using its technology to merge its mind with the conflicting collective consciousness of humans, to see if both of our species can have a positive symbiotic relationship." He admits he's not a great sound engineer, but has a distaste for hyper-produced music and prefers rough edges. I find that statement amusing as his music-on-fast-forward sound, rapid cuts and patchwork genre mixing is (to me) the height of excellence in production (in other words, it goes by too fast to catch any mistakes!). 

"Birth of Rule, Birth of Resistance" begins with an alien voice similar to the robotic textures in Neil Young's "Trans" album. That's a very short pause before the madness begins, with a prog-rock crazy quilt that's not only tricky to follow, but seems impossible to have created (even on a computer!). For a moment a recognizable rock structure appears, then morphs into outsider jazz. The middle section with gruff vocals could be an alternate universe Metallica. Toward the end we suddenly switch to an Asian sound led by a Japanese Koto. Sapien will wind up doing lots of these head-snapping genre shifts, which I can't get enough of. 

"A Broken Dance (Premature Idealism)" sounds like Gershwin or Brian Wilson, singing and playing acoustic piano outside with the birds and wind. After the first verse Sapien comes back into studio, and his piano composing is a wonder to behold, with multiple voice timbres and harmonies (I was barely surprised when the chamber strings showed up!). The switch to jagged math rock comes so slowly it's even more of a shock when you're inside it. The conclusion is a field recording of a chorus of whistlers, with the reality of thunder claps and a coughing child in the background. "You Thought that You Thought that You Thought" brings us back to ultra-high-speed thrash, with a Zappa-like absurdist jazz rock middle, plus some Phillip Glass arpeggios. The track ends with a banjo, fiddle and accordion hoedown crossed with death metal.

"It Will Not Fade! (spoiler: it wlll...)" features some amazing percussion and Indian instrumentation, leading into some lovely keyboard and vocal sections (sometimes veering into circus music). And yes, it DOES fade at the end! "Ignore the Voices - Smile and Nod" welcomes hip hop into Sapien's musical stew, with a refreshing bit of air in the musical arrangement. Again we have some amazing percussion, lively and cleanly recorded, then some Zappian complications and a reappearance by 5-string banjo. "wait, THAT'S IT? SERIOUSLY?!?" is the ten-minute conclusion, essentially a rap tune and thus among the most straight-ahead sections in the album, but still has room for some dramatic playacting and a chamber section (plus a humorous ending, natch!).

Clearly I love this stuff, and music made at this level of complexity is less common than you might think. You won't know if YOU like it until you try it!

Any time I start to fret that music as we've known it is gone forever, a band like New Jersey's Cuppa Joe renews my faith with chunky open-chord guitars, sincere vocals and a roomy, lived-in sound that AI could never duplicate. This week we look at the band's new album titled Cvart.

Cuppa Joe were formed in 1991 at Trenton State College and were signed to Dromedary Records, releasing an EP ("Busy Work," 1993) followed by the albums "Nurture" (1994) and "Tunnel Trees" (2012). The original lineup was Doug Larkin, Bob "Diz" Diszler and Steve Spatucci. Doug's brother Rick Larkin has replaced Diszler on bass, and the band continues to perform across the Northeast.

As I mentioned, the playing and recording on this album are 100% human, having been recorded and mixed in the band members' home studios. It has that K and Sub Pop-style grit, beaming with the creative joy of alternative bands like Pavement, Sebadoh and Guided by Voices. The group describes these songs as "circling around uncertainty, movement, memory and the attempt to remain present within it all... moving through long nights, crowded spaces, roadside towns, fading signals, small acts of survival, strange moments of connection and signs of life that persist anyway."

"Never Again" begins the set with laid-back, Stones-like swagger with Wilco-like vocals. The sound is a cross between a bedroom and a club show, with the guitar amps seemingly melding with the walls around us. For three members it's a sound with lots of parts, including multiple guitars, organ, acoustic piano and glockenspiel. Overall it's less about a rock "attack" and more about tones, similar to the ultra-obscure For Stars band. "Let It Ride" brings us closer to the instruments with an early Velvet Underground feel (minus the dissonance). Not sure when this song was written but it definitely has a Covid-era resignation: "Oh man, It seems so petty / When the whole world’s out there waiting and ready / I had big plans then my tools went missing / I’m not asking for permission, can’t we just agree to let it ride."

"End of an Era" gets more aggressively alternative, with a driving beat, fuzz boxes and Breeder's like lead melodies. "Cave Art" is kind of the title track (and even with the cave wall drawings on the cover, it took me this long to figure it out!). The riffs here are a bit more elemental and insinuating, with the lyrics seeming to compare ancient cave paintings with modern graffiti. "Bitter Blue" is an understated pop gem with unsteady but lovely vocal harmonies and jagged but jangly guitars. "Feeding the Cold" is a surprisingly amiable rocker defending... vaccines! I do take exception to the song's anti-vax straw man being into "boomer Beatles and Rolling Stones" especially given the classic sound of this band! (The surprise acoustic piano recalls both those groups!). 

"Philly Bees" expands the group's sonic pallet with beeping keys and deep fuzz sustain. The song is a great story that I won't spoil, but it has to do with keeping a bee colony (complete with honeycombs) in downtown Philadelphia. You won't find THAT too often! "North" is a folky tune enhanced with 5-string banjo and drawbar organ. "This Crowded World" feels like a summing-up, with the repeated refrain of  "You and I have made our peace with this crowded world and found a place in it... carry on instead of giving out." The arrangement is an interesting combination of thick keys and a heavy fuzz guitar way in the back. 

Once this album started, I figured I had a good idea what this trio would sound like throughout, but the biggest surprise was how big and diverse the band's profile became over these 14 tracks, without ever sounding studio-contrived. Totally refreshing and worth a listen!