Scarlett Macfarlane shares her latest single, “Sorry,” a deeply personal and emotionally charged pop-rock single that leans into themes of regret, self-reflection, and the complicated path toward forgiveness. Balancing pensive introspection with soaring, cathartic release, “Sorry” captures the weight of late-night thoughts and the quiet courage it takes to face them head-on.

“I wrote the song based on a bad night’s sleep due to some negative inner voices and an overactive mind,” Scarlett explains. “I wanted to be vulnerable about my inner demons and hope that anyone who heard it could feel seen, feel safe to recognize that we all make mistakes, big and small, and join me in the journey of self-acceptance.” Originally titled “Regret,” the song evolved into something more direct and universal. “It was always an apology: to others, to the world, to myself.”

1. Tell us the story of this song, why did you choose to visualize this song specifically? 

This song was initially written as a reflection on mistakes and the feeling of a need to apologize for myself and evolved into something else. What started as a song about feeling like I was stuck in my own head, or stuck in my own mistakes, instead, became about the journey of finding self-forgiveness and freedom from that feeling of being stuck through the release and vulnerability of apology and the willingness to ask for forgiveness. I started this song feeling terrible and finished it feeling a sense of catharsis. I chose this song specifically to have a full music video because I really wanted to expose and share that very personal side of myself with others. I also selfishly wanted the opportunity to perform that last chorus from a rooftop, it still gives me chills to sing it every time.

2. What was the inspiration behind this video (visuals, storyline, etc.)? 

I always knew I wanted this video to be simpler than some of the ones I’ve done for my other songs. I wanted it to feel like something that starts as an inner-monologue, just me sort of singing to myself on the streets of NY as if I’m all alone in a big city, and then finish from an elevated position, as I shout (sing) from the proverbial rooftops. Visually, the metaphor is starting below (in my head and private) and finishing above (exposed and public). I think there is almost nothing more powerful than the freedom found in being unafraid to expose your worst thoughts and give voice to the parts of yourself you might want to hide. I wanted to flip the script in this song and instead of hiding those parts of myself, shout them out to the world. Not to mention, I’ve always pictured this song being sung from a rooftop. I wish I could do a whole concert from up there!

3. What was the process of making this video?

It was a very guerrilla-style approach to shooting. We actually shot two music videos that day. The first half of the day was for “Sorry,” and the second half was for another song of mine called “Red Lights.” For “Sorry,” we sort of ran around Brooklyn finding interesting-looking streets with graffiti or posters or just an industrial kind of feel, and we filmed me walking and singing in assorted locations like that. The DP, Paulius Kontijevas, did a great job capturing the mood and the urban but also almost deserted vibe of feeling “alone in my thoughts” that we were going for. I wanted it to feel like I’d almost been up all night thinking and then went for a walk to clear my head, and I think it sorta feels like that. Then, for the rooftop shots, at the last minute we almost didn’t have the rooftop location secured (long story for another day). But for me that was the point of the song from day one: to finish it on a roof. So, the director Sam Graff found a last-minute option that turned out perfectly right at the perfect time of day for that “golden hour” type lighting. We only had about an hour or so up there and it was super windy which became kinda like a character itself in the video, but we got the shots and I’m really so happy with how that part turned out. It was a small crew but each person was important. Madeleine, the stylist, brought the look together with a combo of my clothes and pieces she pulled for me. I love the scarves she chose for this video, they played with the wind and environment so well and made me feel like I was channeling a little of my inner Steven Tyler. Emme made the makeup and hair feel like “me,” which was what I wanted. Bear and Arthur both brought so much joy and professionalism to the set, managing focus and lighting and beyond, all while cracking jokes and asking really engaging questions. And then, at the end of the day, Hunter Wiemann, the editor, stepped up when I needed him most and brought the whole thing together. I’m really proud of how this video came out.//

What makes “Sorry” especially striking is its duality: a song that feels both humbling and empowering in equal measure. While it confronts the discomfort of accountability, it also embraces the strength required to be honest without diminishing one’s own experience. That tension runs throughout the track, building from hushed vulnerability into a powerful, full-bodied release.

The recording process itself mirrored that emotional intensity. “I wrote the first draft of this song in my car crying outside my gym,” Scarlett shares. “Recording it was liberating. Making the voices I heard in my head exist in real life was profound.” Those voices remain embedded in the song’s DNA; most notably in the layered, whispered intro where fragments of real, unspoken apologies are woven into the texture as a deeply personal and largely hidden detail.

Sonically, “Sorry” blends alt-pop sensitivity with pop-rock weight, gradually expanding into a dynamic, emotionally charged arrangement. The track’s final moments deliver a powerful sense of release, with Scarlett’s vocal performance reaching a place that feels both unfiltered and transformative. “Belting out that last chorus really is like therapy every single time,” she says.

9X JUNO Award winners Arkells release their highly anticipated new studio album, Between Us via Universal Music Canada and Virgin Music Group. 

“Between Us is about connection –– not the hollow online kind we get when we’re scrolling –– but about the feeling we get in a shared space, appreciating the little gifts we offer one another, simply by existing with others, explains frontman Max Kerman. “Friends or strangers. A band and an audience. It’s a call to remember that connection.”

Arkells’ most recent tour dates previewing Between Us have largely gotten up-close and personal, striving to create unique experiences in a variety of settings. Win-to-get-in fan-forward experiences have seen shows in an alley-way garage, a fallsview-suite overlooking one of nature’s greatest wonders, and a neighbourhood ice cream shop. Upcoming tour dates have scaled into wide ranging and nostalgic venues that bring the band and audience that much closer.

Arkells’ new album Between Us is produced by LA based John Congleton (St. Vincent, Death Cab for Cutie, Wallows). Comprised of 11 tracks, Between Us includes the previously released collaborative standouts, including the latest release, “What’s On Your Mind?,” the disco-esque track is a synth-heavy, indie pop-rock gem, enhanced even further with the distinct sound of San Francisco’s chill-wave kings Poolside. Additional collaborative tracks include the politically charged radio single, “Money” (featuring Portugal. The Man), and the breezy tune, “Ride” (featuring GROUPLOVE) which they took to the stage at last month’s JUNO Awards in the group’s hometown of Hamiton, ON at the TD Coliseum. The band performed the upbeat track amidst a hyper-realistic viewer engaged set that integrated greenery and Truman-esque break in the fourth wall bike riding.

Additional tracks on the new album span across multiple musical genres and eras from the the stripped back, “Desire’s Got Some Questions,” and the midtempo guitar driven “Universe Talking” to the more classic indie rock “Two Hearts.” Freshly teased “Imagine Barcelona”- a dreamy, earnest love song,  is sure to be a fan favourite. Arkells bring a mischievous sound to the forefront on “Rumour,” before bringing the record to a close with the aching track with winding chords, “Escape Door.”

Between Us is available now for in physical formats including vinyl, CD and signed edition grass-green vinyl. The cover was shot by Boston-based artist and photographer Pelle Cass, who photographed the vibrant image of Arkells atop Hamilton’s Jackson Square rooftop – a nod to their roots.

Montreal-based multi-instrumentalist, composer, and producer Cédric Dind-Lavoie releases his new album Collages (2019–2022), featuring “Lignes,” a serene, gently motional instrumental piece. Rooted in folktronica, krautrock, and acoustic exploration, the track offers a moment of calm and resolution within a broader body of work defined by texture, spontaneity, and immersive listening.

Built from reimagined compositions originally created for contemporary dance performances and documentary film, Collages (2019–2022) marks a shift in Cédric’s creative process. Rather than composing fully formed pieces in advance, the album was shaped directly in the studio, embracing experimentation and chance. Modified guitars, Mexican guitarrón, toy synthesizers, and handcrafted samples made from materials like cardboard and paper form a tactile, unexpected sonic palette.

“This album taught me to trust in serendipity,” Cédric explains. “Unlike my previous albums, where everything was composed in advance, the pieces here were shaped through the recording process itself.”

Originally composed for the finale of the contemporary dance performance Suspendu au sol by Montreal-based company Les Archipels, “Lignes” was designed to evoke a sense of resolution and unity. The title references the closing tableau, where dancers regroup in a single line after a series of chaotic sequences, mirroring the track’s emotional arc toward calm and cohesion.

Sonically, the piece is anchored in delicately layered electric guitars played in a Mixolydian mode, with a rhythmic pulse built from a sampled stomp box. The result subtly echoes the motorik feel of 1970s krautrock, reinterpreted through a softer, more intimate lens. As with the rest of the album, every element is approached with restraint, allowing space, texture, and detail to carry the emotional weight.

Montreal alt-rock veterans GrimSkunk return with “United & Strong,” a high-energy, chant-driven punk anthem that puts unity, resistance, and community front and centre. Arriving as part of a double single release alongside the hard-hitting companion track “Nice Dice,” the band’s latest offering captures both the power of collective action and the consequences of losing sight of it.

“United & Strong” came together in a burst of inspiration, rooted in the spirit of classic New York hardcore. “This song was written within 30 minutes of watching the Agnostic Front documentary,” shares guitarist/vocalist Franz Schuller. “It’s inspired by NYC hardcore, Vinnie Stigma’s life, and that connection to the streets and community.” Built around a driving rhythm and a unifying, chant-along core, the track channels an East Coast hardcore energy reminiscent of Dropkick Murphys, evolving into a rallying cry for standing shoulder to shoulder in the face of division.

Urgent and anthemic, “United & Strong” reflects GrimSkunk’s response to a world increasingly shaped by polarization and imbalance. Its message is clear: strength comes through solidarity. That spirit carries through every element of the track, from its relentless momentum to its collective, voice-driven delivery.

Alongside it, “Nice Dice” expands the conversation with a sharper, more critical edge. “It reflects on how politicians and citizens of the 21st century have abandoned the hard-learned lessons of the 20th,” explains keyboardist/vocalist Joe Evil. Framed as a high-stakes gamble, the song confronts the recklessness of modern leadership and the human cost of decisions made without accountability. Sonically, it blends classic hard rock weight with punk intensity (“Deep Purple meets Black Flag,” says Joe) to create a track that feels both volatile and deliberate.

Together, the two songs form a cohesive statement. Where “United & Strong” calls for unity and shared purpose, “Nice Dice” examines the systems and decisions that threaten it. It’s a dual perspective that underscores GrimSkunk’s enduring identity: music that not only energizes, but challenges and provokes.

Driven by raw performance and unwavering intent, the double single reinforces the band’s ability to fuse message with momentum. Decades into their career, GrimSkunk continue to evolve without losing their edge, delivering songs that feel as immediate and necessary as ever.

New York–based alternative singer-songwriter Lauren Minear returns with “Bruise (made of glass version),” a stark and emotionally exposed acoustic reimagining of one of the most devastating moments from her latest album, Boxing Day. Stripped to its bare bones, the track magnifies the quiet intensity of the original, allowing the fragility of Minear’s voice and the delicacy of the guitar arrangement to carry the emotional weight.

Recorded live at Studio 42 in Brooklyn, “Bruise (made of glass version)” captures the intimacy and vulnerability that sit at the heart of Minear’s songwriting. The performance preserves the raw immediacy of the moment while subtly reshaping the song’s sonic landscape. Though Minear often performs the track live in a lower key, the team chose to retain the original key for its lyrical prosody, allowing the guitar’s natural register to mirror the emotional fragility of the vocal performance.

“This live acoustic version is especially lethal and difficult for me to perform or listen to,” Minear explains. “It comes from a deep pain that maybe only a song can express. There’s something to that though, because it’s also the song that my listeners respond to the most.”

The title itself carries a subtle nod to Minear’s broader creative universe, referencing a lyric from another song on Boxing Day. Though simple on its surface, “Bruise (made of glass version)” embodies one of Minear’s guiding artistic principles: radical honesty. Her songwriting consistently challenges both herself and her listeners to sit with difficult emotions and find connection within them.

Interestingly, Minear admits the song initially unsettled her. “When we first wrote this song, I didn’t like it,” she says. “I’m learning that the songs that scare me are my best ones.”

Berlin-based songwriter Ryan O’Reilly shares his fourth studio album Native Companion alongside the release of its introspective and poetic focus track, “Fear of Flying.” Blending Canadian, Irish, and English alt-folk influences, the album captures O’Reilly’s signature balance of realism and lyricism, finding beauty and meaning in life’s smallest details.

At its core, Native Companion is a reflection on collaboration, movement, and perspective. Written and recorded between Toronto and Berlin with longtime creative partners Tyler Kyte and Liam Blomqvist, the album unfolds as a transatlantic journey. Its first half leans into a warm, live-off-the-floor energy, while the latter embraces more expansive sonic experimentation.
“The theme is seeing the poetry in the little things around you,” O’Reilly explains. “I’m very lucky to have so many talented collaborators around the world. It’s the first record I’ve made completely independent of label support.”

Written during a winter retreat at Kyte’s cabin, “Fear of Flying” began as a conversation about anxiety and the creeping weight of dread. From there, the song took shape as a vivid narrative: a delayed flight out of Los Angeles, turbulence mid-air, and the deeper emotional undercurrents that surface when control slips away.

The track’s journey mirrors the album’s global spirit. Initially recorded live at Dwayne’s World studio in Toronto with Ian Docherty (July Talk) engineering, the song was later completed in Berlin by Swedish producer Liam Blomqvist, with Czech artist-songwriter Anna Vaverková adding piano and vocal textures that bring the track to a stirring close. Even the elements found their way in; rain from a Toronto storm can be heard in the recording, captured through an open studio window.