In a world overwhelmed by environmental catastrophe, humanitarian crises and collective heartbreak, Madame Z emerges with a brand new single that’s as musically gripping as it is emotionally necessary.
Called “Save the World,” the single was released intentionally on Earth Day, 20th April, and it’s a powerful, aching anthem that channels personal grief into a global plea for unity, compassion and action.
Listen here:
It opens with a haunting and sparse arrangement that immediately places the listener in a contemplative space.
There’s a steady, pulsing undercurrent, like a a heartbeat, that anchors the track from the start, a subtle metaphor for the planet’s own fragile rhythm. Madame Z’s voice enters with clarity and conviction, rich with emotional texture. And it’s the vocals that elevate everything – a soulful delivery, blending vulnerability and strength into each line. This is not performative pain, but a lived experience transformed into melody.
Written during a time of profound personal overwhelm, the song grapples with the heavy realities of genocide, war, famine, ecological collapse and the slow poisoning of the earth’s most basic life sources: air, water and soil.
But rather than becoming mired in despair, Madame Z creates something rare. It’s a protest song that is simultaneously a mantra for survival. “Save the World” is steeped in sorrow, yes, but it is also a vessel for change.
The song strikes a good balance between introspection and uplift – its layered instrumentation with guitar, atmospheric keys and percussion has a tribal feel and builds gradually, creating a sense of momentum. By the time the chorus fully blooms, the listener is immersed.
But “Save the World” is not just a general statement. It is also intimate. Madame Z is able to make something deeply political feel personal. It’s as if you are listening in on a whispered conversation between her and the earth, or between her and her own soul.
For those who know Madame Z’s earlier work, particularly her debut album ”Down the Rabbit Hole”, this track continues her signature style – unflinching emotional honesty, poetic lyrics and a commitment to turning lived experience into a form of healing.
Her background as a fierce advocate for women’s stories, especially through deeply personal tracks like “Unwanted”, is present here as well reminding us that caring for the earth and caring for each other are deeply connected acts.
In an intense political and cultural moment filled, “Save the World” is a song that cuts through the noise.
Reeya Banerjee’s new single “Misery of Place” isn’t just a standout moment on her upcoming album “This Place”. This is the album’s emotional thesis, wrapped up in crunchy guitars, sharp lyrics and a healthy dose of self-aware swagger.
Inspired by a haunting question that first surfaced in her teenage years – “Are you experiencing misery of place, or profound, lifelong misery of self?” — the song digs into the complex relationship between geography and identity, asking how much of our discontent is rooted in where we are. And, how much in who we are.
To bring those layered themes to life visually, Banerjee teamed up with longtime friend and visual literacy expert Kelly Kingman-Joslyn, whose work translates complex ideas into striking hand-drawn images.
The result is a music video that’s anything but traditional. It is more of a moving sketchbook full of flickering memories, half-thoughts, bold colors and scribbled commentary. It’s part animation, part stream-of-consciousness and entirely unique.
In this exclusive interview, Banerjee explores the origins of Misery of Place, the question that’s haunted her for over 20 years, and the deeply personal (and creatively rich) process of making the video with Kingman-Joslyn.
1. Tell us the story of this song, Why did you choose to visualize this song specifically in this way?
“Misery of Place” is essentially the thesis statement of my upcoming record, “This Place” — a collection of songs exploring how the places we live leave emotional imprints on us.
The song was inspired by a question that’s been rattling around in my brain since high school — over 20 years ago(!): “Are you experiencing misery of place, or profound, lifelong misery of self?”
It came from a teacher, passed along through a friend, and at the time, I was furious. I was 17, and it felt cruel and unhelpful — like, what kind of teacher says something that brutal to a kid still figuring out who they are?
And yet… the question stuck. Through every move and transition in my life, I kept coming back to it. It shaped how I think about identity, belonging, and change — how much of what we feel is about where we are, and how much is about who we are.
This song wrestles with that tension — between geography (physical and existential) and self — and it does it with crunchy guitars, narrative lyrics that nod to Bruce Springsteen’s character-driven storytelling (with a smirk), and the sonic swagger of the 90s power pop I grew up on. It felt right to kick off the album cycle with this one, because it asks the question the rest of the record is trying to answer.
2. What was the inspiration behind this new video (visuals, storyline, etc.)?
I didn’t want a traditional narrative video for this song — the song itself is full of characters, but it’s also packed with doubt, cheek, and internal monologue. So I teamed up with my dear friend Kelly Kingman-Joslyn, a visual literacy expert whose job is literally to transform spoken ideas into powerful, hand-drawn visuals. She works with keynote speakers at corporate events, sketching huge live illustrations on whiteboards or easel pads to help visual learners absorb complex ideas — and she also creates animation videos for clients like Goldman Sachs.
That combination of clarity, creativity, and abstraction made her the perfect person to bring Misery of Place to life. I wanted the video to feel like flipping through someone’s subconscious — a swirl of memory, sarcasm, self-doubt, and scribbled footnotes.
Instead of telling a linear story, the video leans into abstraction: sketchbook textures, bursts of color, and hand-written text that echo the psychological layers of the song. It’s part inner monologue, part visual essay — and it adds a new dimension to the song’s central question.
3. What was the process of making the video?
The video was a true collaboration, but also an act of deep trust. I gave Kelly the track and a brain dump of what the song meant to me — a mix of stories, reflections, and the emotional weight behind the lyrics. Then I stepped back.
I trusted her completely to take all of that and filter it through her own artistic lens. Her ability to translate words and feeling into image is extraordinary, and I knew the best thing I could do was give her the space to do what she does best.
There was also something quietly full-circle about working with Kelly. She’s married to one of my closest friends — we met freshman year of college, and after graduation, we were roommates for nearly a decade. He moved out when he married her! So asking Kelly to make this video kind of felt like calling on family. That trust wasn’t just creative — it was personal.
Kelly is based in Beacon, NY — a small city in the Hudson Valley with an enormous artist community. It’s a place filled with visual artists, filmmakers, photographers, writers, and musicians, many of whom I’ve crossed paths with over the years. I lived there for a long time, and it was one of the most creatively rich chapters of my life. So in a way, this video wasn’t just a collaboration between two artists — it was a product of a larger creative ecosystem I was once part of.
A community-rooted project in every sense. We didn’t storyboard it traditionally. Instead, Kelly treated it like a live sketchbook in motion, responding to the song’s tone and energy in real time. What she created was a moving mural — quirky, emotional, and raw — that mirrors the rhythm and spirit of the song itself.
Keep up to date with Reeya Banerjee on her Website.
There’s a quiet kind of confidence in Brooks John Martin’s self-titled album. This is a gentle culmination of stories, years and identities and it is all laid out in this richly textured and deeply personal collection.
Listen in here:
After years of recording under names like Toast and Frank Hansen, Martin drops the masks. He is not hiding behind a character anymore. What we get instead is a record that’s stripped down emotionally, even as the music swells with orchestral grandeur and noir-folk atmosphere.
The opening track “Tide Will Carry Me Away” is the perfect opener, with rich textures and a chorus that feels dreamy and distant.
“Clear Blue Waters” captures the tension further. It’s soaked in longing, built on stacked harmonies that drift somewhere between the Beach Boys and a heatwave hallucination. Inspired by a cold winter night and a dream of Malibu, this song is escapist in spirit but haunted by real-world context – the fires that have since scarred the coast where its video was filmed.
Throughout the album, Martin brings a sound palette that is both nostalgic and cinematic. You can hear echoes of The National’s emotional weight, Radiohead’s spacious intensity and the stylized drama of Bowie’s later work – but it never feels derivative. This is a record with its own internal weather system, slow-moving and thunderous.
The haunting “Straight Over Me” plunges into brooding, noir-lit depths with its hypnotic chord progression and mournful strings echoing the album’s overarching themes of introspection and reckoning.
“Millions” hits especially hard – equal parts weary and anthemic, it is like someone trying to remember what hope feels like. And the orchestration across the board? Lush, deliberate and gorgeously produced, thanks to the production at Martin’s own Catamount Recording studio.
What makes this albums stick though is the feeling that this may be Martin’s final musical statement. There is a gravity to that, and also a freedom. These are not songs written to chase trends but they are here because they had to be. Because Brooks John Martin needed to say them, finally, in his own name.
Whether this is truly the end or just the end of a chapter, Brooks John Martin is definitely a record that lingers. It is not trying to impress, but just trying to be understood. And it is!
About Brooks John Martin
Brooks John Martin is a singer-songwriter and multi-instrumentalist based in Cedar Falls, Iowa, whose work blends cinematic folk, abstract lyricism with lush orchestration. With a deep baritone voice and a stream-of-consciousness writing style, Martin writes emotionally resonant songs that feel both timeless and otherworldly.
After years of performing under various monikers – Toast, The Blue Danes, and Frank Hansen – Martin sheds all aliases on his fifth and most personal album to date, “Brooks John Martin.”
Raised in a musically rich household and trained on piano and guitar from a young age, he combines a lifelong passion for melody with the maturity of lived experience. The result is an album steeped in Brian Wilson-like grandeur and grounded in folk tradition, with nods to Leonard Cohen, Neil Young and the atmospheric stylings of Radiohead and The National.
Now the owner of Catamount Recording, Martin brings a producer’s ear and a poet’s heart to his music, favoring analog imperfection over digital polish. His latest album is more a statement of his art, a moment of artistic unmasking and, possibly, a final chapter. Honest, unfiltered and wholly himself.
Keep up to date with Brooks John Martin on his Website.
Amanda Abizaid has always been an artist unbound by borders, whether cultural, linguistic or musical.
Her latest release “Hold On My Heart (Bilingual Remix)” has taken on many forms, evolving across languages and styles. Originally written as a pop folk ballad in English through Sundown Sessions in Los Angeles, the song which was co-written with Lindsay Gillis, has since blossomed into a bilingual marvel.
Winning Best Folk and World Music Song awards from the Indie Music Channel, this track further cemented Abizaid’s place as a global artist. Now, with a fresh remix produced by Dave D’Addario, “Hold On My Heart (Blilingual Remix)” shows Abizaid’s talent for fusing world music with neo-soul and cinematic electronica into a mesmerizing, emotionally charged experience.
With lyrics that seamlessly transition between English and Arabic, this song re-invents the wheel of remixes and transforms it into a re-awakening of passion and purpose.
Abizaid’s ethereal vocals pull you into a dreamy landscape where Middle Eastern melodies intertwine with lush electronic beats.
Producer Dave D’Addario expertly amplifies the song’s intensity, layering hypnotic rhythms with a pulsing and danceable energy that builds towards a climactic release. This is certainly a song that lingers with the listener long after listening with its gorgeous fusion of nostalgia and modernity.
Abizaid, a Lebanese-American singer-songwriter, is no stranger to crafting music that resonates across cultures. Best known for her Emmy-winning theme song A Place in Time from The 4400, she has collaborated with legends like Stephen Stills and performed alongside Herbie Hancock and Wayne Shorter. Her music, which is often a vehicle for storytelling and activism, has found its way into film, television as well as and international humanitarian efforts, where she has used her platform to promote peace and cross-cultural understanding.
“My multicultural upbringing has enabled me to adapt to different types of people. I’ve always had different kinds of friends, inviting them all to my shows and discussions which I love because it creates an international fanbase and audience allowing for a diverse dialog.”
“My hope is to open our minds to accepting our differences by having positive experiences together and to have my fans have an opportunity to experience my native Country Lebanon in a different light than what they might typically hear on the News. After all, don’t we all want to be happy and enjoy the time we have?”
With “Hold On My Heart (Bilingual Remix)”, Abizaid takes another step in that mission, using music as a universal language. This remix breathes new life into an already memorable song, and offers a fresh take where heartbeats of different worlds come together in harmony.
With “Crash Course Volume 3: Rust Covered Lust”, Animals In Denial closes the loop on a trilogy of sound, taking long-forgotten demos and raw ideas and forging them into something stronger, sharper and more alive than ever before.
The songs that make up this new EP have been completely overhauled with cutting-edge production techniques, AI assisted enhancements, and a relentless drive to elevate past works into its fully realized form. The result is an album that pulses forwards with electricity, aggression, and a kind of nostalgia that surges forwards with teeth bared.
Listen here:
Opening with “Operator”, this song itself is an impressive evolution, born from a beat that haunted Animals in Denial since age 14 after watching The Matrix. Originally pieced together using a lite version of Ableton Live and a handful of drum samples, “Operator” took on a new life when Steven Seibold (Hate Dept/Pigface) stepped in for additional production and mixing.
His expertise helped sharpen the track’s cold, metallic edges, while subtle tweaks – like a reworked third verse and unexpected backing vocals in the chorus – pushed the song into new territory.
Meanwhile, “Coi” immediately plunges the listener into a world of industrial beats and searing guitars. What was once an abandoned demo has transformed into an undeniable force, with a dark and pulsing energy reminiscent of Pretty Hate Machine-era Nine Inch Nails, fused with the density and controlled chaos of The Fragile. It’s the kind of track that demands movement—whether that’s a rhythmic head-nod or full-body immersion in the beat is up to the listener.
Then comes “Rage”, a track that more than lives up to its name. This is a song that doesn’t just explore anger but embodies it. The layers of heavy guitar, thunderous toms and jagged synths create a soundscape that feels like an explosion caught in slow motion, both destructive and oddly beautiful. Originally conceived as an exploration of rage personified, the final song is raw and unrelenting.
The overall EP has a tension about it, with the songs pushing and pulling between the past and a re-invention, between the person who wrote them years ago and the artist bringing them to life today.
The themes that run through the album – fractured relationships, self-discovery, the scars we carry – are given a new weight through the updated production and evolved vocal delivery.
The title itself, “Rust Covered Lust“, suggests something that was once polished but has been left to decay. And that’s exactly what this album does. Rather than discarding past work, it honors it, stripping away the imperfections while keeping the beating heart intact. Christian Imes is reclaiming the songs, and re-shaping them.
By blending industrial, metal, electronic as well as alternative elements with an arsenal of modern production techniques, “Crash Course Volume 3: Rust Covered Lust” does what all great re-visitations should: it re-defines the past.
Whether you have been following the series from the beginning or you are stepping in to the world of Animals In Denial for the first time, “Rust Covered Lust” is sure to be an undeniable force.
Stay current with everything Animals In Denial on the Website, and Facebook.
Keyth Jones has never been afraid to shake things up. Over the years, he has explored everything from the kaleidoscopic harmonies of Fractal Cat to the experimental edges of Plän Pläns, always taking his music somewhere new.
His latest single, “Run To Me” roars in with a different kind of mission, cutting through the noise with a blistering, fuzzed out garage rock rush.
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This track is a raw, high energy homage to the rough and tumble 1960’s garage bands that lit up basement parties and dive bars before vanishing into crates of forgotten vinyl. As soon as the guitars kick in, it’s all speed, sweat, and grit.
There is an urgency; Jones sings like he has something to prove, his voice riding the distortion like a runaway train. The rhythm section is relentless, keeping the pulse pounding from start to finish.
Jones wrote “Run To Me” in the most fitting way possible – jamming with his wife on drums, chasing the thrill of loud, unfiltered rock n’ roll. That energy is baked into every note.
“Run to Me” came from a 2022 jam session with my wife on drums. I had just started playing electric guitar again and wanted to write a rocker that paid homage to the 60s garage bands. My buddy and I used to spend hours combing bargain bins in record stores for those bands. It was like a competition to see who could unearth the most obscure 60s relic. Then we’d go back to his basement and rock out, and we always felt like we were the only people in the world who cared about this stuff.”
But don’t mistake the song’s ragged edges for carelessness. Getting the right balance between loose and electrifyingly tight took serious effort. Jones has said that this was the toughest track to get right in the studio, with producer Miles Gannett helping to fine tune the chaos into something razor sharp.
This is the perfect preview to Jones’s upcoming “Love Yourself” EP, due out in April 2025. While the full project is set to explore themes of self-reflection and romance, “Run To Me” is all adrenaline. Rock and roll at its most immediate and infectious.
Whether you are a fan of The Sonics, The Stooges, or The White Stripes, this one demands to be played out loud!
Modern Mystery 