Yonaka – “Hit Me When I’m Sore” Review
There’s something deeply relatable about this latest offering from Yonaka. The Brighton trio continues teasing their second album “Until You’re Satisfied” with a track that feels like a conversation with someone who’s been through it and come out the other side. Theresa Jarvis delivers vocals that carry this raw honesty about pain and resilience, singing about how being hurt can sting without actually breaking you down.
What really gets me about this song is how it manages to feel both vulnerable and tough at the same time. It’s not about pretending you’re invincible or that things don’t hurt. It’s about acknowledging the pain but refusing to let it destroy you. The production gives Jarvis plenty of room to breathe, and she uses every bit of that space to convey this message of weathered strength. After years of the band exploring themes around mental health and empowerment, this feels like a natural evolution of their sound.
The band has been building momentum since their 2019 debut, and tracks like this show they’re not interested in repeating themselves. They’re digging deeper, getting more personal, and the music benefits from that willingness to be uncomfortable.
Julia Thomsen – “Golden Hour” Review
There’s a specific kind of exhaustion that sets in around this time of year. Not the physical tiredness you can sleep off, but that mental weight of too many obligations stacking up at once. Julia Thomsen’s new piano piece “Golden Hour” feels like it was written for exactly that feeling.
Out now, the composition does something deceptively simple. It gives you permission to stop. No dramatic crescendos demanding your attention, no complex arrangements asking you to appreciate the craftsmanship. Just piano, played with this warmth that seems to actually change the temperature of whatever room you’re in. I know that sounds like an exaggeration, but put it on and see if I’m wrong.
Thomsen calls this music for the in between moments, and that description fits perfectly. It’s for when you’ve closed your laptop but haven’t quite figured out what comes next. When you’re sitting with your coffee before the day really starts. When you need something playing but don’t want to think about what you’re listening to. The piece knows how to exist without demanding anything from you, which is rarer than it should be.
Prophet Psychosis – “ВЕРЛАНГ” Review
This track got to me in ways I didn’t anticipate and honestly still don’t fully understand. “ВЕРЛАНГ” feels personal even though I know it wasn’t written for me specifically, wasn’t addressing my particular struggles or celebrating my specific joys. Yet somehow it resonates as if it was. I think that’s the mark of something truly special, when it can feel universal and intimate at the same time. Popaska and Vernichten have tapped into something fundamental about the human experience here, something that transcends language and culture and personal circumstance.
The production choices support the message without overshadowing it, which shows real restraint. There are moments where they could’ve gone bigger, added more layers, made it more complex. But they didn’t, and that restraint is powerful. Every element that’s present earns its place. Nothing feels extraneous or showy. It’s all in service of the emotional journey they’re taking you on, which is ultimately about stripping away rather than adding on. Overcoming yourself means letting go of the excess, the defenses, the stories you tell yourself about who you are and what’s possible.
The Here And Now – “Riptide” Review
Brixton band The Here And Now have just released “Riptide”, and it’s the kind of track that hits you straight away. Cherry Terzza’s vocals come in strong over guitar work from Jason Bond that’s got real weight to it, while Rich Sackey-Addo on drums and Callum Lowe on bass keep everything locked in tight. The song deals with that feeling of being pulled into something you know isn’t good for you, like getting caught in a riptide before you even realize the current’s got you. There’s this push and pull throughout the whole thing, that cycle of wanting what you probably shouldn’t have.
The band have been playing around London since 2020, building a solid following with their live shows that bring genuine energy. You can hear echoes of Paramore, Queens Of The Stone Age, and Royal Blood in their sound, but they’ve carved out their own space. “Riptide” goes heavy when it needs to and melodic when it matters, with Cherry switching between raw vulnerability and full force delivery. It’s one of those tracks that gets stuck in your head after the first listen.
Central Cee – “Booga” Review
Central Cee stripped everything back on this one, and honestly, it’s exactly what I wanted to hear from him right now. After spending 2025 becoming a global phenomenon with tracks like “Sprinter” hitting a billion streams, “Booga” feels like him reminding everyone where he came from. This isn’t polished for mass appeal. It’s a grimy UK drill track that puts the focus squarely on his technical skill as a rapper.
The production from Roddy Beats and Young Chencs is punchy and spacey at the same time, giving Cench room to show off his flow without overwhelming the track. When he raps about relating to the kid from Mumbai in “Slumdog Millionaire,” it’s one of those lines that sticks with you because it feels genuine rather than forced. The whole track is full of these moments where he’s flexing but making it feel conversational.
Skepta’s cameo in the video adds weight to what’s already a statement piece. This is Central Cee proving he can chase international success without losing the edge that got him there in the first place. No hooks, no concessions, just bars over a beat that sounds like it was made in someone’s bedroom in West London. Sometimes that’s all you need.
Vinyl Floor – “Mr. Rubinstein” Review
“Mr. Rubinstein” is Vinyl Floor at their most patient, stripping away the urgency and letting the story breathe. The Danish brothers have always had a knack for channeling classic British rock, but this track shows them pushing into darker, more introspective territory.
The story behind it is simple but compelling. An artist clashes with a critic. Egos refuse to bend. That’s the kind of conflict that’s been fueling music forever, and the Pedersen brothers capture it with this slow burning tension that never quite explodes. Instead, it simmers, building layer upon layer until you’re completely absorbed.
The production is where this track really shines. Recording at Studio Möllan with Emil Isaksson was clearly the right call. The piano sits front and center, backed by organ swells that give everything a cathedral like quality. When Bebe Risenfors’ horns come in, they don’t overwhelm. They weave through the arrangement like smoke, adding texture without demanding attention. Christian Ellegaard’s string work deserves special mention because it gives the song this haunting undertone that stays with you long after the track ends.
What I appreciate most is how Vinyl Floor resists the temptation to rush. At 4:13, the single edit takes its time, letting each section develop naturally. It’s moody without being depressing, dark without losing all its light. The organ and piano create this foundation that feels both timeless and distinctly modern, like hearing someone interpret a classic film score through a contemporary lens.
Pulp – “The Man Comes Around” Review
I’ll admit I was skeptical when I heard Pulp covered a Johnny Cash song. The original is such a towering piece of work, written near the end of Cash’s life and filled with biblical imagery and apocalyptic weight. But Jarvis Cocker and the band did something unexpected with it. They didn’t try to recreate Cash’s austere approach. Instead, they gave it this bumpy, almost loungy groove that shouldn’t work but absolutely does.
Cocker delivers the lyrics like he’s narrating the end times over cocktails, which might sound disrespectful on paper but actually brings out something new in the material. There’s this tension between the darkness of the words and the smoothness of the arrangement that makes you pay attention differently. When he hits that line about kicking against the pricks, you can hear the Nick Cave influence, and it feels intentional rather than accidental.
The fact that this appeared in “The Hack,” a drama about the phone hacking scandal, makes sense when you think about it. The song is about judgment and reckoning, and Pulp’s version has this quality of watching everything unfold from a distance while knowing you’re not separate from it. It’s their first release since “More” came out earlier this year, and it shows they’re still willing to take risks and try things that might not immediately make sense.
Korn – “Last Legal Drug” Review
This track has been floating around in bootleg form for years, but now it’s officially streaming as part of the 20th anniversary reissue of “See You on the Other Side.” Hearing it in proper quality for the first time is like discovering a missing piece of an album you thought you knew inside and out.
“Last Legal Drug” starts slow and builds into this heavy, distorted wall of sound that’s classic mid 2000s Korn. The title references “la petite mort,” the French phrase for orgasm that literally means “the little death,” and the lyrics explore that intersection of pleasure, pain, and losing control. It’s dark and provocative in a way that feels very much of its time but also strangely timeless because Korn has always dealt with uncomfortable topics.
What strikes me about this track is how well it would have fit on the original album. “See You on the Other Side” was already a transitional record for the band, their first without guitarist Brian “Head” Welch and their last with drummer David Silveria. This b-side captures that same sense of a band in flux, experimenting with their sound while holding onto the heaviness that defined them. The guitar work is thick and oppressive in the best way, and Jonathan Davis’s vocals move between vulnerable and aggressive without losing intensity.
For longtime fans, this is essential listening. For newcomers, it’s a solid introduction to a band that never shied away from exploring the messier parts of being human.
