Garrett Anthony Rice has a way of writing songs that feel like they were already waiting for you. His latest, “It’s Not The Summer,” steps out of the shadows with an easy glow, letting light in without rushing it. The track is touched by Britpop’s golden haze, but it’s no nostalgia trip. Crisp guitars ring out over a gentle, steady pulse; breezy rhythms carry the song forward with the same patience that runs through its core. There’s a quiet acceptance here that life doesn’t always meet you where you want it to, and that’s fine. Seasons change. Things shift. It won’t be like this forever. And in Ireland, where summer rain often drowns out the sunshine, that irony lands all the more sharply.
“It’s Not The Summer” sounds like sunshine caught in a jar. The song flickers with familiar ghosts, a breakdown with Lennon’s trace in it, handclaps that carry the spirit of “Here Comes the Sun,” and a whistle at the end that drifts the way Otis Redding once did on “Dock of the Bay.” Rather than imitation, these touches feel like memories folded into something new, lived-in, and wholly Rice’s own.
The single adds a softer hue to the unfolding Equinox, the 18-track double album recorded between Ireland and the UK in 2024. Following the gospel haze of “Eden,” the road-dust grit of “In the Sun,” the urgency of “I Found Myself Today,” and the introspective burn of “Property,” this one opens a window and lets warmth spill in. “It’s Not The Summer” doesn’t try to solve anything. It just offers what it has: patience, clarity, and the reminder that sometimes the best thing you can do is wait for the next season to come.
Since 2017, Zedge has made it easier for creators across the globe to make a living making art through its thriving Zedge Premium marketplace, paying out millions of dollars each year. With Tapedeck, Zedge is bringing that same creator-first model to music.
The service is the brainchild of Zedge’s SVP of Product and music industry veteran Tim Quirk, the lead singer of Too Much Joy and key figure in shaping the digital music landscape. Quirk was part of the team that launched Rhapsody in 2001, helped build Google Play in 2011, and later went on to found Freeform Development, a start-up Zedge acquired with the goal of enabling their global network of creators to better monetize their art.
Reflecting on the early days of streaming, Quirk emphasizes that fair artist compensation was once achievable. “When Rhapsody launched it set the standard at a penny per play, while, at FreeForm we knew there had to be more and we proved that superfans showed they’ll pay extra to support the artists they care about most. Zedge Premium furthered this by enabling a self-serve platform that put the artist in charge. TapeDeck’s goal is to prioritize fan passion over mass numbers of casual users ensuring that control over destiny stays exactly where it belongs – with the artist,” he says. Today, he remains acutely aware of the stark contrast, as modern royalty systems often leave artists earning mere fractions of a cent per stream from their labels.
How Tapedeck changes the game:
Artist-driven pricing: Licensors, whether individual artists, labels, or distributors, set their own prices for streaming, track downloads, and album purchases based on knowing their audience best. A penny per play is the minimum.
Revenue share: Tapedeck pays licensors 80% of revenue for each download and stream.
Optional fan contributions: Fans can also pay more than the listed price, creating an incremental revenue opportunity for the artists they love.
No subscription fees: Artists can participate without upfront costs, ensuring accessibility and scalability.
“We’re not aiming to compete with Spotify on day one,” Quirk adds. “We’re here to prove eager fans can support the artists they love in ways that aren’t available today.”
Tapedeck has partnered with Symphonic to launch a three-month pilot program in the United States, initially available on iOS. More licensors will be added continuously, and expansion to Android, web, and international markets is expected in 2026.
With Tapedeck, every play and purchase gives more support to the artists who create the music you love.
Tapedeck is a new digital music service from Zedge with a mission to make it easier for musicians to make a living making music. Its transparent, artist-first model allows licensors to set their own prices and ensures a penny-per-play minimum for streaming royalties, while giving fans the ability to directly support the artists they admire.
About Zedge
Zedge empowers tens of millions of consumers and creators each month with its suite of interconnected platforms that enable creativity, self-expression and e-commerce and foster community through fun competitions. Zedge’s ecosystem of product offerings includes the Zedge Marketplace, a freemium marketplace offering mobile phone wallpapers, video wallpapers, ringtones, notification sounds, and pAInt, a generative AI image maker; GuruShots, “The World’s Greatest Photography Game,” a skill-based photo challenge game; and Emojipedia, the #1 trusted source for ‘all things emoji.’
Self-described “genre-fluid” artist Jean Caffeine unveils her new album, Generation Jean, on the Austin-based Flak Records. Across its 10 tracks, Jean shows off her sharp wit and songwriting skills as the album slides between retro pop, Americana, punk-tinged blues, power pop, and art rock.
If there’s a theme that ties the album together its feels and moods: The exuberance and limerence of love on “Love What is it?,” the loneliness and isolation of “Another Crying Christmas,” the irritation and exasperation of “You’re Fine,” the sadness of “I Always Cry on Thursday.”
Side A delivers the earworms (“I Know You Know I Know,” “Love What is it?”), while Side B brings the bite with “Another Crying Christmas,” the PSA-with-teeth “Mammogram,” the catchy but irreverent “I Don’t Want to Kill You Anymore” and the edgy art rocker “You’re Fine.”
Just when you expect Jean to roll out another pop rock or punk pop ear worm, she surprises you with her attitudinal lead single, “You’re Fine,” which is like nothing else in her catalog.
“You’re Fine” mashes up new wave, no-wave and Art-rock. With a sparse low groove it conjures up early Talking Heads and Brian Eno and then takes a turn and sounds like it’d fit on a playlist with Lydia Lunch and Richard Hell and the Voidoids. Initially, minimalist and groove-based, the song mutates into a maximalist, Sparks-meets-Queen crescendo – all in protest of the phrase that irritates her the most, “You’re Fine.”
“So often ‘you’re fine’ is delivered with spectacular indifference by a barista or someone I’ve accidentally and clumsily bumped into,” Jean elaborates. “Even though they are saying, ‘you’re fine,’ it feels judgey and dismissive. When you say, ‘you’re fine,’ you are saying that someone is just adequate. Surely I am better (or worse) than adequate! This song is a (jokey) protest to all the ‘you’re fine-ing’ going on out there in the world.”
Recorded with longtime collaborator Lars Göransson (Sounds Outrageous Studio, Austin), the track brims with sonic Easter eggs – a banged frying pan, a mouth-made synth riff run through vocoder, a fake phone sound, wah-wah guitar, and a metal guitar riff that crashes in for the finale. Frequent co-conspirators Josh Robins (Invincible Czars), Jon Notarthomas, (Ian McGlagan, Rubilators) Shannon Rierson (Utley 3 and Flak Records head honcho), and drummer Zack Humphrey (Megafauna) all leave fingerprints on the song’s shapeshifting arrangement.
Dunnville, Ontario’s Chore are back after two decades with Oswego Park, a tightly wound, deeply personal fourth album brimming with post-hardcore intensity, progressive structures, and raw emotion. Out now via Sonic Unyon Records, the record follows previously released single “Cowards Can” and highlights the menacing, riff-heavy “King” – a song that channels the pressures of modern life through a lens of chaotic energy and self-reflection.
While “King” may be one of the record’s most aggressive and angular moments, Oswego Park is anything but one-note. Across its sprawling tracklist, the album ricochets from pummeling math-metal intricacies to brooding alt-rock atmospherics, from knotty time signatures to soaring melodic payoffs. Written and recorded intermittently between 2017 and 2022 – and shaped in part by the global pandemic – the record captures Chore 2.0 working purely for the love of the craft.
The album’s title is a nod to a small rural subdivision halfway between Dunnville and Smithville, Ontario – a hub of childhood mischief and friendship for brothers Chris (guitar/vocals) and Mike Bell (bass guitar) and a point of connection with Dunham. “We’ve always waved a little Dunnville flag in our work,” says Mike. “This album really drives it home.”
Originally sparked at the drumkit in Chris’ basement studio, “King” was built from an aggressive, unique drum part that laid the foundation for the track. The brothers and David Dunham (drumkit/vocals/synths/percussion) thenlayered intertwining nuances and riffs, while the manic feel, rotating time signatures, and overall aggressiveness mirrored the song’s theme: wrestling with self-identity in a cyber world of hidden critics and relentless social pressure. “If AI had a language based on modern society, I think it would sound something like the samples at the end of this song,” notes Chris.
“This is one of the first songs we’ve written that we can both listen back to and play and say we enjoy both immensely,” he continues. “Same goes for all of the songs on this record.”
Toronto composer, songwriter, and producer Kai Korven invites listeners into a whimsical, heartfelt world with his new single, “Bug on Head.” Playful, dynamic, and elating, the track blends indie pop and folk sensibilities with theatrical storytelling, capturing the warmth of friendship and the joy of creative collaboration.
“‘Bug on Head’ is really about the voices of my friends,” Korven explains. “This is by far the song I’ve collaborated with the most people on, and the depth of light and joy that comes from their voices is really present in the track. It feels like a burst of light – like everybody’s invited to join in! Look at us!”
The song emerged from a melody Korven heard in the spring of 2024, influenced by his immersion in Irish jigs and reels. From the line I had a fever dream about a bug, the whimsical narrative took flight, evolving into an allegorical tale that reflects on emotional mechanisms and codependent relationships with humor, warmth, and honesty.
The recording process was as joyful as it was meticulous. Korven recorded each contributor individually to craft a rich collage of voices, producing a climactic chorus that feels like a community singing together. He brought in friends for character voices: Cate Oxford added high choral tones, Chelsey Bowler and Mimi Matamoros lent kid voices, and Iyin Ajagunna performed as a grandpa who fell down a well, complete with the line, “Oh! My knee!” Instrumentation includes violin from Katie Stephens alongside Korven’s own guitar, piano, bass, and drums, creating a layered, folky, narrative-driven sound.
Korven’s stylistic choices emphasize storytelling and genre-blending. “I love finding pockets in different moments of a song where it feels like we just ever so slightly dip into a whole new genre or feeling,” he says. From folk-inspired guitar jigs to pre-chorus bursts of Hollywood orchestral drama, the track balances simplicity and nuance to convey both emotional weight and playful delight.
Edmonton’s Forester returns with Young Guns, a raw and restless new EP anchored by the lead single “You Were Born.” Balancing turbulent punk energy with brooding alternative rock grit, the record captures a band looking back on their scars, mistakes, and fleeting nights with both urgency and tenderness. It’s a reflection of growth and survival – an unflinching portrait of who they were and how far they’ve come.
While “You Were Born” may be the EP’s most urgent cut, Young Guns as a whole is about much more than fighting for the light. Written and recorded across studios, apartments, and rehearsal spaces – sometimes years apart – the collection pieces together moments of clarity, pain, joy, freedom, turbulence, and regret into a raw document of becoming. “The weight of past mistakes, friendships, and fleeting nights feel a little heavier now,” pianist Keenan Gregory reflects. “Writing and releasing these songs is our way of keeping them alive just a little longer.”
“You Were Born” is a storm of words and emotions, written about how an argument can spiral past the point of no return, leaving wounds that linger long after the silence falls. “It’s about the instant you realize that a line has been crossed, and the heavy silence that follows when love and hurt collide,” Keenan shares. Fueled by jagged guitars, pounding drums, and a defiant vocal delivery, the track distills rage, regret, and resilience into three frantic minutes. Sometimes, though, songs take years to reveal themselves. “‘You Were Born’ was one of those songs we had to wait for,” says Keenan. “The second verse was written over email almost five years after the rest of the track. We had wanted that section to lift, but were at a loss of how to do it until one day James [Banks] sent over a guitar riff and drum idea that set the pace. I responded with the piano part instantly, Wayne [Axani] had the vocal locked in, and suddenly it was alive. Despite this song having a long gap in between writing periods, once that new idea had sparked, the final piece of the puzzle came together within an hour or two.”
Modern Mystery 
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