Arriving as a deeply personal and expansive body of work, Walk Right Through finds Jont at a creative and spiritual peak. Rooted in singer-songwriter, indie, and folk traditions, the album unfolds as a living document of presence, transformation, and emotional truth. It’s an offering shaped by years of perseverance, reflection, and hard-won clarity.
“I’m deep in the jubilation dancing that goes on when it’s gone right and your prayer of gratitude, your anthems to celebrate the essence of your being, are now somehow larger and more energetically witnessed by The Universe,” Jont shares. “In that space, all one can think and feel is ‘you know what? I actually did it. I did create one of those ones. One that will really count.’”
The project emerged during an intense and almost inexplicable creative surge. At the beginning of 2024, 10 songs arrived in 10 weeks, each carrying what Jont describes as the same urgent message: “Get me out. I want to be sung and heard now.” Rather than forcing the process, he followed it, allowing the material to reveal itself in real time.
Anchoring the album is its lead single, “Ride On,” a song that arrived under particularly meaningful circumstances. Written on the day of Jont’s dear friend Barbara’s passing, it carries both grief and release; an emotional threshold that sets the tone for the recording process that followed.
Walk Right Through itself was captured during a singular, almost fated session. Recorded in one day at Sonic Temple Studio just before its closure, the session brought together Jont and his core collaborators in what he describes as a uniquely aligned state. “If you detect a special vibe in this album, that’s part of it,” he explains. “This was played by human beings in a certain state of mind. It’s us, on that day, in the studio.”
That immediacy remains central to the record’s sound. While later expanded with subtle production from Jont’s extended creative collective, the foundation is raw, present, and deeply human. The performances lean into openness and vulnerability, favouring emotional truth over perfection.
Self-proclaimed cottage core rockstar Kari Lyn unveils “Killing Time (the Fish Song),” a hopeful, theatrical folk-country rocker that marks the beginning of a brand new era. The first single from an upcoming six-song EP, the track embraces spontaneity, adventure, and the joy found in life’s in-between moments. Equal parts playful and reflective, “Killing Time (the Fish Song)” feels like driving into the sunset with the windows down; cinematic, pulsing, full of possibility.
The song was written during a summer spent back in Kari Lyn’s hometown of North Rustico, PEI, where she challenged herself to write as much as possible while soaking in the fresh air, familiar landscapes, and temporary freedom from day-to-day work. “I believe I finished 11 songs that summer that I was willing to share,” she explains. “Killing Time (the Fish Song)” was one of them. Being home stirred deeper reflection too. “I was thinking about how proud little Kari Lyn would be and how I’ve become someone she would have looked up to.”
Though initially written as a playful experiment with chord progressions and tongue-in-cheek lyrics, the song quickly took on a life of its own. After performing it casually for friends, fans, and at a few live shows, one thing became clear: people wanted “the Fish Song.” “They’ve been asking for it for almost two years now,” Kari Lyn says.
At its core, “Killing Time (the Fish Song)” is about embracing the moments that quietly shape who we become. “Life is all about the moments in between,” Kari Lyn explains. “The moments we are ‘Killing Time’ are what make us who we become.” That idea is woven throughout the song’s freewheeling spirit, capturing both the rush of adventure and the clarity that often arrives when you least expect it.
The track’s production leans fully into that sense of fun. Built around a descending chorus progression that became the song’s anchor, “Killing Time (the Fish Song)” moves with full-band energy, anthemic momentum, and a touch of mischievous theatricality. One of the standout additions came just two days before entering the studio, when Kari Lyn unexpectedly recruited a fiddle player she ran into at an afterparty. “A few beers deep, I asked if she was available that Thursday and wanted to hop on the song,” Kari Lyn laughs. “She agreed and now we have a killer fiddle part.”
The accompanying lyric video ties Kari Lyn’s past and present together. Using footage shot on her video camera during last summer’s Home tour, the visuals trace an 18-show run across the East Coast with her sister. “We were having fun, killing time and making waves,” she says. It’s a fitting bridge between the introspective tone of her last chapter and the more playful, unguarded energy of this one.
Even with its buoyant, feel-good exterior, “Killing Time (the Fish Song)” carries a deeper undercurrent of resilience. “I really hope to inspire people,” Kari Lyn says. “To remind them that it gets better, and not to sweat the petty stuff.” For an artist whose music has always been rooted in honesty and vulnerability, this single feels less like a departure than a fuller expression of who she is. “I’m generally a high energy, happy-go-lucky person,” she adds. “It was about time I released a fun-loving rocker.”
Revelstoke, BC’s PICKLE JUICE returns with “A Little More Time,” a heartfelt and emotionally exposed new single that sees the alt-rock outfit stepping into their most vulnerable territory yet. Known for their high-energy, unhinged live shows and gritty, adrenaline-fuelled sound, the group takes a more reflective turn here, exploring grief, loss, and the longing for moments that never quite felt finished. It’s the second single to drop from PICKLE JUICE’s upcoming sophomore EP, The Whiteroom, officially out June 12th, 2026, and follows “Halfway” which garnered multiple spins on Hockey Night in Canada.
“The song pays homage to loved ones taken from us far too soon,” explains drummer Pete Lavery. “It began as lyrics written through personal loss, and when it resurfaced to the rest of the band, the music grew around that same emotion. It was difficult to work on, but it helped us heal through the process.”
For vocalist Tim van der Krogt, the track is deeply personal. “For me, it’s about one specific person that had an enormous impact on my life… a beautiful human that shined so bright,” he shares. “We were all going through similar experiences of grief and loss while writing it. We wanted to do justice to the friends we lost, and we’re really proud.”
What sets “A Little More Time” apart is its emotional openness. Stripping back the bravado that often defines their earlier work, the band leans into tenderness and restraint without losing their sonic weight. “There’s nowhere to hide in this one,” Tim adds. “It’s added a whole new dynamic to our live set and shows a bit of growth after years of singing about getting a little bit drunk and a little bit high.”
The song’s evolution was anything but straightforward. Initially written in fragments, PICKLE JUICE struggled to unify its sections. “The chorus and verses felt like different songs,” Tim recalls. “We had all these sections of a song but didn’t have anything to glue it together.” With guidance from producer David Ziehr, the band reworked the melody, lifting it into a higher register and reshaping the structure until it finally clicked. “That started a chain reaction that brought everything together cohesively.”
From a production standpoint, the track draws subtle inspiration from artists like The War on Drugs and Sam Fender, blending expansive indie rock textures with grounded emotional weight. A vibraphone tucked into the second verse adds a delicate, almost nostalgic shimmer, while a Neil Peart-inspired groove in the chorus injects momentum and lift where the song once held back.
Every artist has that one song that refuses to be left behind. For rising rock artist Scarlet Ayliz, that song is “Say I.”
Originally written when she was just seventeen during an impromptu basement jam session, the song lay dormant for years before being rediscovered and transformed into the powerful alt-rock statement it is today. Drawing inspiration from 90’s grunge, classic rock, and the trials and tribulations of growing up, “Say I” captures the raw emotions of youth while showing an artist determined to carve out a sound entirely her own.
With an accompanying music video created alongside Ikon Media, vibrant visuals, and a renewed sense of artistic purpose, Scarlet Ayliz is entering an exciting new chapter in her musical journey. We caught up with her to discuss the origins of the song, the creative process behind the video, her influences and why “Say I” represents far more than just another single release.
Tell us the story of this track. Why did you choose to visualize it specifically in this way?
My new song ‘Say I’ was written by me when I was seventeen. I had gone through multiple bands, and the pandemic hit shortly after. The band I was with was having a jam session in my basement, so I took control of what I heard, shot out a few directions, and sang a bunch of nonsense until something started to hit me. I had just wanted to rant about how crappy life had been recently with regards to growing up, having crushes on douchebags, and being scared of falling back into the loop of fake friends, and unrequited feelings.
The initial recording was a voice memo of me and my old band having a jam session, I had liked what they were fooling around with and decided to give them some directions in hopes they’d like what I came up with to give the song more structure. The demo came out great, but after we split I completely forgot about it until I was looking through my files and began to listen to it again. I presented the recording to my executive producer, and we redid the track with all new instruments and a clean final mix. We switched up some of the format, but the heart of the song remains the same.
What was the inspiration behind this new video (visuals, storyline, etc.)?
I was heavily inspired by 90’s grunge and 2000’s “dad rock” for the sound. My band and I at the time played mostly covers that leaned into a classic rock genre, but decided to shift gears once I started presenting more songs to them to learn. I wanted to fuse genres and make my own rock sound. Say I marks the end of fitting a mould, and the beginning of putting together my own unique sound.
What was the process of making the video?
For my new MV, Say I, I partnered with Ikon Media to bring to life a fun summer-esque vibe, that has a bit of edge to it—the bright colors and rocker edge are meant to paint a picture of moving forward into brighter days, while remembering how tough the past was in certain aspects.
Some albums are collections of songs. Others feel more like conversations. Ammar Farooki’s Twelve falls firmly into the latter camp, and it’s an album less interested in telling listeners what to think and more concerned with asking the sort of questions that tend to continue long after the music has been heard.
Written and recorded between Brooklyn and beyond, Twelve finds Farooki wrestling with themes of identity, loss, love, spirituality as well as personal transformation. That might sound heavy – and, at times, it is – but this is not an album that disappears into its own philosophy. Instead, it uses those bigger ideas as fuel for songs that remain remarkably human and relatable. Whether reflecting on the uncertainty of leaving behind a stable corporate career to pursue music or exploring the ways people search for meaning in an increasingly chaotic world, Farooki approaches every song with honesty rather than certainty.
Musically, the album occupies a fascinating space between indie rock energy and singer songwriter intimacy. There are moments that soar, moments that simmer, and moments that seem content to simply sit with difficult emotions. Tracks such as “Wanderer” embody the album’s central theme of growth through self-discovery, using driving guitars, keys and an uplifting sense of momentum to capture the experience of shedding old identities and stepping into the unknown. Throughout the record, the arrangements serve the songs rather than the other way around, which is a surprisingly rare quality these days.
Farooki says about The Wanderer “The song is really about me growing as an individual, as an artist, and leaving everything I knew to be comfortable and familiar behind to pursue the dream of being an independent musician in NYC. This song as well as all the other tracks were composed, recorded and produced by myself, Diane Desobeau and Sarmad Ghafoor.“
What makes Twelve particularly compelling is that it never feels confined by geography or cultural labels. Farooki’s story may stretch from Lahore to New York City, but the questions he asks belong to everyone. Themes of belonging, purpose, heartbreak, and reinvention are presented not through the lens of nationality, but through shared human experience.
There is also a poignant emotional thread running through the album. Twelve is dedicated to the memory of Farhad Humayun, the legendary Pakistani musician, composer, and producer who inspired Farooki to pursue music more seriously and whose passing in 2021 left a lasting impact. That sense of loss and artistic purpose quietly informs much of the record, giving it an emotional depth.
Perhaps most impressive is the fact that Twelve was entirely self-funded and self-produced. In an era when artists are often encouraged to chase trends, Farooki has done the opposite, creating a body of work that feels uncompromisingly his own. The successful Kickstarter campaign behind the album, recognized as a “Project We Love”, suggests that listeners are responding to that authenticity.
What Twelve ultimately offers is something increasingly valuable – space to reflect. It invites listeners to sit with uncertainty, embrace complexity, and perhaps discover something about themselves along the way. Music that challenges, comforts and connects in equal measure is a rare thing. Ammar Farooki has managed to make an album full of it.
About Ammar Farooki
Ammar Farooki is a Brooklyn based singer-songwriter originally from Lahore, Pakistan. His music brings together the musical traditions of indie rock, folk, and introspective songwriting. After gaining recognition in Pakistan’s independent music scene, Farooki released his debut EP Songs From the Cave in 2019, earning coverage from Rolling Stone India, Forbes, as well as other international publications.
Later that year, he relocated to New York City on an artist visa and has since become a regular presence on the city’s live music circuit, performing at venues including The Bitter End, Rockwood Music Hall, Pianos, and the American Folk Art Museum.
While his journey spans continents, Farooki’s music is rooted in universal human experiences, creating songs that transcend borders and cultural labels. His recent album Twelve, is his most ambitious work to date. It’s an entirely self produced collection exploring philosophy, spirituality and the search for meaning in an increasingly complex world.
Keep up with all things Ammar Farooki on his Website
Bilingual indie-pop duo Beau Nectar (singer-songwriters Marie-Clo and éemi) share with their first full-length English album Dandy, released alongside lead single “Artichoke,” a project that turns ecological collapse, emotional fatigue, and modern disconnection into something strangely hopeful, playful, and alive. Framed through the lens of personified nature, Dandy imagines a world where flora and fauna speak back; not as symbols, but as characters with agency, humour, and resilience.
At its core, Dandy explores a world “at war with itself,” where attention is fractured, trust is eroding, and creativity is constantly under pressure. Yet instead of leaning into despair, Beau Nectar reframes the chaos with irony and softness. “It’s all fine and ‘Dandy’,” the duo suggest, holding space for contradiction while inviting listeners to reconnect with the natural world as something alive, aware, and emotionally present.
Speaking on “Artichoke,” Beau Nectar channels nature’s perspective through a flash of humour and rage, capturing a moment where Mother Nature pushes back against rising heat, both literal and emotional. “In ‘Artichoke’, Mother Nature is mad that things have gotten so heated; literally and figuratively,” the duo explain. “It’s female rage at its finest. Don’t mess with her, don’t mess with women, because we can take the heat.” The track leans into this energy with a breezy, groovy edge, balancing attitude with playful restraint.
Across Dandy, nature becomes both metaphor and companion. Listeners are invited to meet characters like the Apple, Tulip, Loggerhead Shrike, Lion’s Mane, Dandelion, and Artichoke; each representing a different emotional frequency within the modern world. Rather than distant symbolism, these figures are rendered as relatable beings, encouraging empathy for a natural world often taken for granted.
Musically, the album blends alternative pop textures with indie-folk warmth and synth-driven experimentation. The result is a sound that feels fluid and tactile; equally suited to introspection and movement. It’s a record that leans into contrast: warmth and tension, playfulness and critique, softness and bite.
Beau Nectar is the bilingual collaboration of singer-songwriters Marie-Clo and éemi, crafting intimate and vibrant synth-pop-folk rooted in ecological storytelling and emotional resonance. Their work personifies nature in a way that invites listeners to empathize with the living world, blending conceptual depth with melodic immediacy.
Following their debut album Two Lips, the duo have toured extensively across Canada, earning recognition from platforms including CBC Music and Sirius XM, as well as multiple Trille Or and regional award wins. Their music has appeared on editorial playlists such as Montreal Chill, Québécois Contemporain, and Nouveautés Francophones, while their growing international profile continues to expand through festival appearances and cross-country touring.
With Dandy, Beau Nectar continues to build a unique sonic ecosystem where pop music becomes a dialogue between humans and nature; playful, political, and deeply human in its curiosity.
Modern Mystery 
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