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.

Some songs feel constructed. Others feel discovered. “Say I” by Scarlet Ayliz sits firmly in the second category, as if it wasn’t written in a studio or a notebook but uncovered—like something half-buried that still remembers how it once sounded when the world was younger.

At its core, the track channels a familiar alt-rock pulse: gritty guitar lines that carry a faint early-2000s echo, drums that move with urgency rather than polish, and vocals that cut straight through without asking for permission. It is immediate in the way the best rock tracks tend to be—built for motion, built for volume, built for feeling before interpretation.

Yet what separates “Say I” from straightforward genre revival is the strange layering of time embedded within it. The song began life years earlier, written during Scarlet Ayliz’s teenage years, when everything was still forming and nothing had settled into definition. It was left behind, not forgotten in the traditional sense, but paused—like a thought interrupted before it could finish becoming itself.

When it resurfaced later, it did so unchanged at its emotional core. That decision matters. Instead of rewriting it to match a newer voice or a more polished perspective, Scarlet preserved its original emotional temperature. The result is a recording that doesn’t smooth over its origins but exposes them, allowing immaturity, urgency, and confusion to remain audible rather than corrected.

That creates a dual presence inside the track. The sound belongs to the present—cleaner, fuller, more assured in its execution—while the emotional current belongs entirely to the past. The push and pull between those states becomes the real structure of the song. It is less a linear narrative and more a conversation that spans years without needing translation.

What makes this approach compelling is its refusal to turn memory into mythology. “Say I” doesn’t romanticize adolescence, nor does it distance itself from it. Instead, it treats it as still active material—something that can be re-entered rather than observed from afar.

In that sense, the track doesn’t behave like a finished statement. It behaves more like a return. A younger voice is still audible beneath the surface, not erased by time but carried forward by it. And the present-day artist doesn’t overwrite that voice; she stands beside it, letting both exist without resolution.

“Say I” ultimately feels less like a debut or a rediscovery and more like continuity made audible—the rare moment where time doesn’t separate versions of a self, but lets them speak at once.

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.

Ottawa-based singer-songwriter Heliara shares Everything’s a Love Song, a deeply intimate and emotionally rich EP that explores love in all its forms. Blending pop, rock, indie, and genre-spanning influences, the six-song collection unfolds as both a personal reflection and a universal meditation on connection, vulnerability, and what it means to love and be loved.

Originally conceived under the working title Eclectic Love Songs, the project evolved organically as its deeper thread revealed itself. “I wanted to explore different types of love and different musical genres,” Heliara explains. “When I realized each song reflected a different form of love, the title Everything’s a Love Song just made sense.”

The EP culminates in its most personal moment: “Confessions to my Daughter,” a heartwarming and vulnerable closing track that captures the depth of motherhood and unconditional love.

What makes Everything’s a Love Song particularly striking is its unexpected alignment with the Ancient Greek concept of love, which categorizes love into distinct forms such as eros, agape, mania, and storge. “I found out about this after I had already written all six songs,” Heliara says. “When I looked into it, I almost fell off my chair. Each song I wrote corresponded to one of those forms. In two cases, it was right down to the title.”

That sense of intuition carries throughout the record. Written and recorded over a year and a half, the EP showcases Heliara’s growth not only as a songwriter, but as an artist learning to trust her creative instincts. “I’ve learned that my creativity is limitless when I’m in alignment with myself,” she shares. “The lyrics come naturally without me asking them to. I tweak them to make the message more universal and pithy, but the essence of what I am communicating feels quite channeled in a way.”

Written in the quiet stillness of a 3AM moment while caring for her sick child, the chorus for “Confessions to my Daughter” arrived in a rush of emotion. “This is a song that my daughter will have forever,” Heliara explains. “I want her to know these things about herself and about me as a mother.”

The track is made even more special by the presence of her three-year-old daughter, whose soft backing vocals appear from the very first line. Musically, “Confessions to my Daughter” blends warm, country-tinged verses with soaring, Motown-inspired choruses, building toward a powerful, modulating finale.