New York–based alternative singer-songwriter Lauren Minear shares her latest offering, “‘Til The World Ends.” It’s a cinematic and emotionally charged alt-pop single that grapples with fear, uncertainty, and the fragile state of the world before ultimately arriving at a deeply human conclusion: love is the only answer. Blending rising tension with introspective lyricism, the track captures a moment of personal and collective anxiety, filtered through Minear’s signature emotional clarity.

“‘Til The World Ends” was written in November 2024 in the immediate aftermath of the U.S. presidential election. “I felt scared by how divided the world has become and worried about the sociopolitical conditions my children will grow up in,” Minear explains. At the same time, she found herself immersed in dystopian storytelling, rewatching multiple Walking Dead spinoffs that explore separation and survival in apocalyptic conditions. “I was thinking about how horrifying it would be to be separated geographically from my family if the world stopped,” she says.

What began as an attempt to process fear quickly evolved into something more grounded. Sitting at her piano, Minear started listing unanswered questions about the world around her, only to arrive at a more instinctive truth. “Naturally, I ended up writing a song about the only answer to fear: love.”

Sonically, “‘Til The World Ends” leans into atmosphere and tension. Produced by Grammy–winning producer Scott Jacoby, the track blends organic instrumentation with contemporary production techniques, creating a soundscape that feels both intimate and expansive. Arpeggiated piano chords form the foundation, while layered contributions from collaborators; including guitar (Ben Butler), keys (Andrew Sherman), percussion (Doug Yowell), and fretless bass (Richard Hammond); gradually build a sense of unease and momentum. A standout moment arrives in the bridge, where a soaring vocal stack from Lauren Mian adds an almost ethereal release.

At the core of Minear’s work is motherhood; not just as a theme, but as a driving force. “‘Til The World Ends” continues that trajectory, shaped by the urgency of raising children in an uncertain world. “I don’t know how else to process the terror of watching two pieces of my heart walk around, vulnerable, in a world seemingly hellbent on self-destruction,” she says.

Following on the heels of the vulnerable single, “Sorry,” Scarlett Macfarlane returns with “Fireflys,” a warm and nostalgic pop single that captures the fleeting magic of youth, memory, and the quiet moments that stay with us long after they’ve passed. Rooted in feelings of ease, joy, and reflection, the track leans into a softer, more sentimental side of Scarlett’s songwriting, offering a moment of lightness grounded in emotional depth.

The song was sparked by a simple, intimate setting. “I have a string of lights that I like to sit out under on my balcony that mimic the randomness of fireflies,” Scarlett explains. “I was sitting out there one night and the rest is history.” That quiet moment of inspiration expanded into something more universal; a reflection on the small, meaningful experiences that shape how we remember our lives.

The title itself carries layered meaning. Inspired by childhood memories of summer nights celebrating her mother’s birthday, Scarlett connects the imagery of fireflies to a sense of wonder and togetherness. “Those are moments from my life that I wish I could capture in a jar and keep forever,” she says. “Much like a child wishes to keep the magic of a firefly forever.” Even the stylized spelling of “Fireflys” serves as a personal touch; a nod to storytelling, nostalgia, and her own creative instincts.

Musically, “Fireflys” embraces simplicity and warmth. A standout moment arrives in the bridge, where a last-minute addition of a whistled melody adds a playful, childlike quality to the track. “One of my favourite things to do as a kid was whistle melodies,” Scarlett notes. “Getting to use that skill in a song was a fun moment for me.” That sense of play carries through the arrangement, which builds gently before opening into a refreshed final chorus that feels both familiar and new.

Lyrically, the song reflects on the shifting nature of time and memory. “Taste the memories, back when life looked like forever,” Scarlett sings; a line that captures the way moments that once felt endless can become fleeting in hindsight, while still holding their emotional weight.

Canadian musician Keegan Powell returns with “Long Way Through Doom,” a fierce and energetic indie anthem built on instinct, grit, and momentum. Blending massive guitars with shaman-like vocal hooks and a sweetened vocal edge, the track evokes a world driven less by logic and more by raw animal impulse. It surges forward with swagger and urgency, pulling listeners into a sonic current that feels impossible to escape.

At its core, “Long Way Through Doom” is both primal and poetic: a collision of chaos and melody where instinct takes over and meaning emerges in fragments rather than structure.

Written initially without any intention of vocals, the track began as a self-imposed creative experiment. “I purposely assigned myself to write a big dumb rock riff” Keegan explains. “Once I gave myself that M.O, the main riff just came out of my hands.”

With the instrumental complete, Keegan turned to older written material for lyrical inspiration. “I scoured through some old poetry and found a piece called ‘World Debut’,” he says. “It just fits. I started melodizing the words and it all clicked into place.”

The result feels like a moment of fate rather than construction. It’s a song that arrived fully formed through creative alignment rather than careful planning.

“Long Way Through Doom” sits within Keegan’s broader creative universe but marks a continuation of his refusal to remain stylistically fixed. It follows a career defined by constant reinvention, from lo-fi experimental beginnings to expansive rock explorations, now converging into a sound that feels both unhinged and precise.

emotionally charged alternative pop-rock single about confronting old habits, creative exhaustion, and the difficult process of becoming a better version of yourself. Driven by full-bodied production, soaring energy, and deeply personal lyricism, the track captures the moment where frustration turns into determination.

At its core, “DON’T DO THAT” reflects the emotional weight both artists experienced following the release of their debut album, 2024’s Just Try. “The song was inspired by the state of mind we both felt like we were in last year after releasing our first album,” they explain. “We struggled getting our creative flow back again. Although the song is upbeat, it may be one of the most personal songs to show how heavy music has felt for us over the last little while.”

Despite its introspective subject matter, the single pulses with momentum and optimism. Built around driving rhythms and an anthemic energy, “DON’T DO THAT” becomes less about defeat and more about resilience. It’s the soundtrack to pushing yourself through difficult moments instead of retreating into familiar patterns.

“DON’T DO THAT” also serves as the opening track to the duo’s upcoming sophomore album, Learn + Apply, helping establish both the emotional core and sonic direction of the project. “We like to start bigger projects with lyrics that feel the most connected to us presently,” they explain. “This song does exactly that.”

While the themes lean inward, the spirit of the song remains rooted in the optimism that has always defined YASSiN & Sean Terrio’s work. Hope, love, and perseverance continue to act as guiding principles throughout their music, giving even their heaviest moments a sense of uplift and forward motion.

Edmonton, AB-based indie duo Softklub (Keenan Gregory and Mark Wojcicki) share their debut EP Give Me More, released alongside its emotionally charged title track. Blending melancholic indie rock with cathartic release, layered instrumentation, and deeply introspective songwriting, the EP’s five songs capture the complicated emotional terrain of longing, self-reflection, insecurity, and memory.

“This selection of songs feels more tightly knit to each other than anything else we’ve written,” Keenan explains. “Not only do their themes bleed into one another, but multiple songs share a narrative from the same moment in my life.”

Recorded across hotel rooms, Airbnbs, home studios, rehearsal spaces, and professional studios over the course of several years, Give Me More reflects both emotional and artistic evolution. The duo collaborated with a range of musicians to expand the project’s sonic palette.

At the heart of the EP is its soaring and emotionally exposed title track “Give Me More,” rooted in yearning, appetency, and unresolved attachment. “A lifetime supply of yearning, mixed with some unrequited love and a fixated obsession of the past,” Keenan says of the song’s inspiration.

What began as an instrumental demo during the isolation of COVID unexpectedly became the foundation for Softklub itself. Mark originally created the track while considering rebooting an old band and sent it to Keenan with the intention of adding piano. Instead, Keenan surprised Mark with vocals.

“I had never heard him sing, but it was exactly the vibe I wanted,” Mark recalls. “We continued writing together with zero expectations or even thinking about releasing anything. All of a sudden we realized we had 30+ songs we really enjoyed.”

Sonically, “Give Me More” embraces experimentation while remaining emotionally cohesive. Inspired by seeing The National perform with multiple drummers and expansive arrangements, Mark built the song around layered percussion, stacked guitars, synth textures, and immersive production choices designed to reward repeated listens.

Continuing upon this year’s previous releases, “Lay Your Mind” and “Ground Falls Away,” Strange Plants share “Time Killing,” a contemplative and expansive psych-rock single that blends atmospheric textures with a sense of quiet, underlying tension. Wistful and immersive, the track leans into themes of existential reflection and the slow passage of time, capturing the feeling of moving through life’s routines while something deeper simmers beneath the surface.

The song’s origin traces back to a period of heavy literary influence. “At the risk of sounding absurdly pretentious, I was reading a lot of Charles Bukowski at the time,” explains songwriter Matt Brannon. “So it created a sort of temporary supercharged nihilism.” That perspective shaped the song’s core idea; a meditation on time, purpose, and the subtle weight of existence.

Built around a rich, retro-psychedelic sound palette, “Time Killing” unfolds with layered instrumentation and tonal contrast. Trippy string arrangements intertwine with shimmering lap steel, creating a unique sonic blend that sets the track apart within the band’s catalogue. The result is a sound that feels both expansive and grounded; classic in influence yet exploratory in execution.

The recording process brought together a striking group of collaborators. Loel Campbell (Wintersleep, Billy Talent) contributed drums, while Christine Bougie (Bahamas) added lap steel and Drew Jurecka (Dua Lipa) arranged the song’s sweeping strings. The track was mixed by Chris Shaw and co-produced alongside JUNO Award–winning producer Michael Phillip Wojewoda, further elevating its textured, cinematic feel.

One of the defining moments in the song came through experimentation with its vocal delivery. Originally intended for songwriter Travis Flint, the final vocal emerged from a demo sketch that ultimately became the take heard on the recording. “We spent a lot of time trying to figure out the delivery on the top line,” Matt notes, highlighting the band’s openness to instinct and evolution in the studio.

Lyrically, “Time Killing” captures a universal sense of stagnation and quiet longing. Its lines reflect the monotony of daily life, while hinting at a deeper awareness of time slipping by; a tension that gives the song its emotional weight.