Vincent J. Rigney

Vincent J. Rigney Vincent J. Rigney reflects on love, faith, and time in this interview, unpacking the personal story behind “Tidal Wave of Love” and the gentle power shaping its sound and spirit. 1. Your new single “Tidal Wave of Love” paints a very vivid and emotional portrait. Who is the woman behind the song, and what made her story essential for you to tell now? The woman behind “Tidal Wave of Love” is my wife, Deborah. We first knew each other as teenagers—I was a year above her at school—and we shared an early connection through our faith, including a pilgrimage we went on when we were about 13 or 14. Life then took us in different directions, and it wasn’t until twenty years later that we reconnected. We’ve now been together for over 22 years. Telling this story now felt important because it reflects a love shaped by time, patience, and belief—something universal and worth celebrating. 2. You describe this figure as gentle, healing, and almost divine. How do you translate such tenderness into sound without losing its intimacy? Even though the lyrics are full of energy and movement—images of heat, speed, and light—the music itself stays warm and open. I focused on space and restraint, letting the vocal lead and allowing the song to breathe. Her presence in my life has always been calming and grounding, so the sound needed to reflect that sense of reassurance rather than intensity 3. The title suggests something powerful yet beautiful. What does the phrase “Tidal Wave of Love” personally mean to you as a songwriter? To me, a tidal wave is something that builds slowly and arrives with certainty. It’s powerful, but it’s also cleansing and transformative. That mirrors my experience of love—something that didn’t rush, but when it finally arrived, it changed everything while still bringing peace. 4. The track was recorded in your hometown of Corby, Northamptonshire. How did working locally and collaborating with UK artists shape the atmosphere and spirit of the song? Recording the song in my hometown brought a real sense of grounding and honesty to the process. Corby is where my roots are, where my values were shaped. Working with UK artists who share that understanding helped the song stay authentic and emotionally true, rather than overly polished. 5. Looking back at the recording process, was there a particular moment—musical or emotional—where you felt the song truly came to life? There was a moment when the chorus finally settled and everything else fell into place. Hearing “with her tidal wave of love” lift the track emotionally was when I knew the song was doing what it needed to do—capturing excitement and calm in the same breath. 6. With “Tidal Wave of Love” arriving on February 27th, 2026, what do you hope listeners feel or take with them after hearing it for the first time? I hope listeners feel uplifted and reassured. That love doesn’t always follow a straight line, but when it’s real, it endures. Wherever people are in the world, I hope the song leaves them with a sense of warmth, hope, and quiet optimism. Vincent J. Rigney | Official Website
Serij d’Artosis

Serij d’Artosis Dream-born neoclassical composer Serij d’Artosis opens up about translating fragile emotions into sound, working in solitude, and shaping Vestiges de Rêves as a cinematic journey through memory, space, and introspection. 1. Rêve1: Vent Fragile feels deeply introspective and dream-driven. How do your dreams usually translate into musical ideas, and do they guide the structure or emotions first? Rêve 1: Vent Fragile” is a track from my upcoming EP, all of the compositions of which were inspired by my dreams. Dreams are the starting point for this album—they don’t impose a structure, but they carry a very distinct emotional charge. I then try to translate these emotions into sound: timbre, tempo, tension, and space. The structure of the music comes later, in the process of consciously organizing these impressions. Dreams are fragile and ambiguous—exactly how I want the emotions in these compositions to be. 2. You handle the entire creative process alone, from composition to production. How does working independently shape your artistic freedom—and your challenges? I begin my entire creative process by composing at the piano — it’s definitely the most enjoyable and natural stage of making my music. At that point everything is still very intuitive and emotionally pure. Later comes the moment of recording the piano, which means playing around with microphones and searching for a sound that really “clicks” with my ear. Once the recording is in the computer, the next stage begins: working with plugins, sound layers, and composing using a MIDI keyboard. This part of the process can be very painstaking and requires quite a lot of knowledge to extract exactly the sound I’m looking for from a specific plugin-instrument. On the one hand, this gives me enormous comfort and freedom — I decide on every detail, even the smallest one. Today’s plugins and extensive sound libraries offer incredible possibilities and allow me to realize very personal sonic visions. On the other hand, I miss working with real musicians and the energy that emerges from playing together. Today, this is one of my dreams: to be able to play with real musicians. 3. Neoclassical minimalism plays a key role in your sound. What elements from artists like Ludovico Einaudi or Yann Tiersen resonate most with you, and where do you feel you diverge from them? Neo-classical minimalism feels very close to me, and Ludovico Einaudi and Yann Tiersen have played a huge role in that. I’ll start by saying that it was Ludovico Einaudi’s compositions that motivated me to begin learning the piano five years ago. What moves me most in his music is the sense of vast space — both in the structure of his pieces and in the interpretive freedom they offer the listener. This openness creates room to breathe and allows emotions to resonate without haste. Yann Tiersen, on the other hand, fascinates me as a multi-instrumentalist. I’m always in awe of the moment when he steps away from the piano, reaches for the violin, and shortly afterward for the accordion. This natural ease in moving between instruments gives his music a unique sense of narrative and character. As for the differences, I feel that as a creator I more often and more consciously explore emotions and atmospheres that are commonly considered “unpleasant” — such as sadness, grief, inner conflict, or loneliness. Although these are heavy emotions, in my view they remain deeply important and worthy of attention. It is often within them that the greatest honesty and truth are found, which I try to translate into sound. 4. The EP Vestiges de Rêves suggests fragments of memory and subconscious imagery. What unifying thread connects the pieces across the EP? The entire album is a kind of record of dreams, captured in a form reminiscent of film music. This element is what binds all the pieces together and gives them a shared context, allowing them to form a single, self-contained whole. I treat a dream as a journey — full of images, emotions, and unexpected turns — which in itself becomes a story and a narrative. It was very important to me that this musical record of dreams be presented precisely in the form of movie music: narrative, evocative, and guiding the listener through successive scenes, even if they are not fully defined or entirely unambiguous. 5. Recording between Frankfurt am Main and Paris adds a geographical duality. Did these locations influence the mood or texture of the music in any way? Recording between Frankfurt am Main and Paris had a meaning for me that was more subtle than literal, but it definitely influenced the mood of the music. Frankfurt is associated in my mind with greater austerity, order, and focus — it was easier for me there to work on structure, detail, and the silence between sounds. Paris, brought more softness, melancholy, and a certain poetic quality that naturally seeped into the sound. This geographical duality is therefore not directly audible in specific motifs, but is present rather in the texture and emotional balance of the pieces. I think the tension between these two places helped me maintain a balance between coolness and intimacy, which works well with the overall dreamlike character of the material. 6. You’ve said, “It wasn’t me who found the music. The music found me.” Looking back at this release, what did the music reveal to you about yourself as an artist? I don’t come from a musical family — my mother is a geologist and my father is a carpenter. There was never any music in our home. And yet, at the age of 33, when I first sat down at the piano, and two years later began composing my own pieces, I discovered something remarkable: that I can express emotions, experiences, and values not only through words, but also through sound. If someone had told me ten years ago that I would be composing music and playing the piano, I probably wouldn’t have believed them. Back then, I didn’t know that there
SIVA

SIVA Blending urgency, melody, and raw energy, SIVA reflect on modern overload, collaboration, and live intensity, unpacking the ideas and influences behind their latest EP, Alerta. 1. “Alerta” tackles themes like modern life in emergency mode and AI overuse. What inspired you to put those ideas at the center of this EP? I think we currently live in a constant state of urgency, always alert and waiting for the next thing to resolve that´s thrown our way by any given circumstances. Be it your phone blowing up with work stuff, or family issues, or things you planned that didn’t go as you expected, it´s hard to have a minute to breathe and find a better way to cope. Also, the song tackles a little bit on the current overwhelming invasion of AI in everyday life, which even if it´s practical for certain things, we didn’t really need something that somehow makes people more lazy and not having a mind of their own. These are times where you have to stay focused and in touch with real things, adn surround yourself with people you connect with to keep you grounded, It’s so easy to get carried away on trends. As artists, it’s our job to try and keep having true inspiration and communicating emotion through music and words. 2. The title track features Aye Rojo and Seba Martínez. How did those collaborations shape the identity of the Córdoba indie rock sound in “Alerta”? We believe that always having musicians who truly identify with the project and add their own imprint enriches the proposal. That’s why both Sebastián and Aye adapted naturally to what each song required, bringing all of their professionalism and musical authenticity to the EP. 3. You self-produced and recorded ALERTA at Maya Studio. What were the biggest creative advantages and challenges of producing the EP yourselves? We have been very fortunate to be able to work at Maya Studio in Córdoba for years. Kari (singer) works as a producer there, so we can sortta call it a second home to the band. We´ve had time to hone the song structures and play around with sounds and layers everytime we record. We self-produced the Alerta EP, and had the chance to work again with a chilean mix engineer Oscar Rai Lama, who has been mixing most of our releases since 2022. He understands the vision we have for our sound even working remotely, so 3 of the songs were mixed/mastered by him at Los Lobos Records in Chile, The last song “No es el fin” was mixed and mastered by José Matiak at Maya Studio, and was a different process since we were able to work alongside at the studio, he did a great job and is a long time band collaborator. 4. “No es el fin” blends punk drive with melodic influences from Smashing Pumpkins and Nada Surf. How do you balance aggression and melody when writing SIVA songs? That song was very special since it came from a clean guitar riff that maybe seemed too pop for us, but then we turned it into a full song and we really enjoy playing it live, it also seems to connect with people on an emotional level. The song closes with a great melodic solo by Sebastian Martinez who features on the track. Yeah, it definitely borrows from Nada Surf or Death Cab for Cutie single-string cleaner riffs, and then adds Billy Corgan´s emotional octave melodic guitar lines, it kind of sneaked in there, we are fans of a lot of alternative music from the 90s onwards and somehow you end up channeling those influences without even thinking. This song will prpbably open doors to different sounds or intention fro Siva on future music. 5. Your 2025 live session at Romaphonic Estudio included an expanded lineup. How did performing in that iconic studio change the way you approach your music live? From the moment we learned about the studio’s capabilities and everything that could be done at Romaphonic Studios—not only a live session, but also the possibility of a larger production in the future—we immediately felt we were in a place where everything flowed naturally. Playing together as if we were performing live in front of an audience happened in an atmosphere of comfort and relaxation, allowing the music to express itself on its own while we simply enjoyed the moment. 6. From festivals like Cosquín Rock to opening for Marky Ramone, your live presence is a key part of SIVA. What do you want audiences to feel when they hear these new EP tracks on stage? Siva is a band that has always been defined by high energy on stage. We’re musicians who genuinely enjoy being up there, and each of us brings our own imprint while trying to connect with the audience. We’re aware that this connection has a lot to do with our attitude and with what we choose to express and propose in that moment—so the audience doesn’t just appreciate the performance, but also connects with the songs and feels musically identified with them. sivarawk | Instagram, Facebook, TikTok | Linktree
Alexis Lace

Alexis Lace Alexis Lace channels unapologetic honesty on Silver, using “Stork” to confront childfree choice, feminism, and autonomy—delivered with restrained production, full creative control, and lived experience shaped by defiant clarity alone. 1. “Stork” is one of the most serious and controversial tracks on Silver. What pushed you to address the topic of choosing a childfree life so directly in your music? I always speak my truth, especially through my music. I decided I wouldn’t be having any children when I was 11, because it just isn’t my thing, but recently I have seen a lot of men leaving comments on social media telling women they will be lonely, etc, and women trying to tell us life isn’t complete without them. Turns out I have a pretty rich life and I already feel complete, thank you very much. But yes, this semi sudden surge in judgemental, sometimes aggressive, comments, coupled with the fact my whole life I have had people telling me I’d change my mind as if they knew me better than I know myself, has made me feel like it was time for me to sing my truth for the whole world to see. Honestly, we are not hurting anyone by making this choice so keep your opinion to yourselves! 2. You wrote, produced, recorded, mixed, and mastered the track entirely on your own. How did having full creative control shape the sound and emotional weight of “Stork”? To be honest, I write, record, produce and mix all my tracks, so this one didn’t feel any different, if we’re going to address the technical side of things. I feel like having full creative control of my work is very important, because I have the freedom of communicating my thoughts exactly the way I want to. I am often very uncompromising when it comes to my art. 3. The song touches on feminist themes and societal double standards around parenthood. How have your personal experiences influenced the message behind this release? I have had my share of men telling me they wanted kids, which is fine, really, but when they actually expect women who do not have the same longing for parenthood to change their mind, sometimes aggressively, it really irks me. It bothers me A LOT, because, they’re not the ones who are going to be incapacitated for 9 months, their body isn’t going to change, and they won’t have to go through the traumatic event that is childbirth, so it is so easy for them to say! I do firmly believe if men were the ones getting pregnant, seahorse style, the world population would be a lot lower! 4. Musically, “Stork” relies on subtlety rather than heavy layers. Why was restraint and clarity important for conveying the song’s message? I didn’t feel like writing another cliche. We already have a lot of female rage tracks around at the moment, which is fine, I enjoy them, but I didn’t feel like I had to shout to be heard. I’ve shouted a lot of things before and no one listened. I may as well “hide” the message in an otherwise chill track. 5. As part of the album Silver, where do you see “Stork” fitting within the wider narrative of the record? My songs are always very personal, but for this album I decided to touch on a lot of serious issues, such as “old days” sexism in “5 Am”, parental estrangement in “Goodbye”, and work place burnout in “Burn This Place”, which I wrote about my old job from 9 years ago. There are plenty of other very serious subjects on “Silver”, so I could go on. But I wanted to convey the messages with a laid back attitude, as I’d just had a good year, so I think they all quite fit in well together in that respect. 6. You’ve mentioned plans to bring this album to the stage later this year. What can audiences expect from a live performance of “Stork,” and how do you hope listeners connect with it in a live setting? I have not had much time at all to focus on performing live sadly, but I do plan on doing it! These audiences will probably have never heard the song before, so I hope they pay attention to the lyrics, as it can be so easy to get distracted in a live setting, and I hope that they connect with it! I have actually practiced singing it live at the studio and it did come out a lot more angsty than on the record! Alexis Lace
Kate Kristine

Kate Kristine Kate Kristine reflects on “stranger i can’t tell,” unpacking grief for someone still alive, lyrical paradoxes, sonic growth, TikTok resonance, and a creative turning point shaping her evolving indie-folk-pop identity. 1. “stranger i can’t tell” centers on grieving someone who’s still alive — a feeling many people struggle to articulate. When did you realize this song needed to exist, and how difficult was it to put that kind of unresolved grief into words? When “stranger i can’t tell” was written, I was navigating my first serious breakup after being with someone for nearly two years. I was processing emotions I had never experienced before, and music became the only space where I felt able to confront and understand my grief. There is something uniquely painful about grieving someone who is still alive, because the loss is not defined by absence, but by sudden inaccessibility. A person who once knew every version of you becomes unreachable almost overnight. Writing this song allowed me to feel close to someone I had lost while searching for a sense of closure that I never received when the relationship ended. The process required complete emotional honesty. I felt stripped bare while writing it, but that vulnerability was essential in capturing the complexity of that grief. 2. The line “you’re a stranger I can’t tell, but oh, I know you well” captures a powerful emotional paradox. Did that lyric arrive early in the writing process, or did the song slowly build toward it? Although it has been over a year since I wrote the song, I remember that this lyric emerged earlyin the process. A few nights after the breakup, I went driving and found myself passing places that held some of our most intimate memories. I think I was subconsciously searching for closure by revisiting spaces that once felt meaningful, hoping that proximity to memory might bring clarity or reconciliation. Instead, I was confronted with the reality that he was no longer accessible to me in any real way. That realization became central to the song. Breakups often create a strange emotional paradox where someone who once knew every part of you becomes someone you no longer truly know. The line “you’re a stranger I can’t tell, but oh, I know you well” captures that contradiction. It reflects the tension between familiarity and distance, between intimacy and estrangement. That lyric became the emotional anchor of the song, and everything else grew around that idea of reaching for closure while simultaneously grieving a relationship that had fundamentally changed. 3. This track moves beyond traditional breakup narratives and focuses on imagined closure and emotional aftermath. Was there a conscious decision to avoid resolution, or did the song naturally settle into that ambiguity? I always approach the production process with an open mind, knowing that lyrics and structure often evolve as the song takes shape. In this case, I think there was a part of me that was consciously aware of ending the song without clear emotional resolution, because unresolved grief is exactly what the song is about. There was a lot of intention behind ending on the line “but babe, you saw me naked,” because of the ambiguity and emotional weight it carries. My wonderful producer, Gianni Branciforte, immediately connected with that ending and suggested repeating the line twice more in the outro. I became really attached to that idea, because by the end of the song, the narrator has gone through the same emotional cycle again and again. They search for closure to the point where they are completely stripped bare, having exposed every vulnerability in the process. The song reflects how someone can internalize a breakup and almost dismantle themselves emotionally in an attempt to understand it. I wanted to highlight that sometimes relationships end without answers, and not every story resolves neatly. I also loved that the final line acts as a direct segue into my previous release, “friday afternoon,” which centers on vulnerability and intimacy in a much more literal way. While some of these choices were intentional, the song also truly found itself during the production process, and I could not be more grateful to Gianni for helping bring that emotional story to life. 4. Sonically, “stranger i can’t tell” feels warmer and more expansive than some of your earlier work, while still remaining intimate. How did you approach balancing indie-folk vulnerability with indie-pop accessibility on this release? Indie folk and indie pop have always been two of my biggest influences, and much of my songwriting is shaped by elements from both genres. With “stranger i can’t tell,” Gianni and I did not work from a specific production reference. Instead, we focused on creating something that felt emotionally honest and sonically fresh. For a long time, I struggled with feeling like I needed to define myself within a single genre, which created a lot of uncertainty around my musical identity. Allowing different influences to coexist has felt far more natural. I would describe the song as a lo-fi folk track that sits somewhere between artists like Lizzy McAlpine and the 1975. Blending genres in this way was incredibly freeing and creatively fulfilling. Many of the sounds and textures present in this song reflect a direction I plan to explore further in my future work. 5. The song gained significant traction on TikTok ahead of its official release. How did it feel to see listeners connect so strongly with such a quiet, emotionally specific piece before it was fully out in the world? Seeing the song gain traction on TikTok was honestly one of the most surreal experiences I have ever had. While writing and creating it, I never expected it to reach the number of people that it did. What makes the situation even more surprising is how casually the song came together. Gianni and I laid out the stems in about half an hour on a random Tuesday night around three in the morning, without any expectations of
Vanessa Tottle

Vanessa Tottle In this interview, Vanessa Tottle opens up about Tattoo For You, a raw meditation on grief, memory, and healing, tracing how loss became music, permanence, and connection for listeners everywhere. 1. “Tattoo For You” explores grief and lasting emotional imprints. Can you take us back to the moment this song began — what sparked the first line or idea? I wrote this after getting my mother in laws name tattooed on me, May 2024. As I sat there, I just felt grief had taken its toll on me, feeling of wanting to be closer, trying to get the tattoo on my arm but as close to my heart as I could – the rest of the lyrics quickly came to me. I was literally spilling my raw emotion onto paper. It hurt to see it on paper, like seeing blood spilled on the floor. 2. You describe the song as deeply personal and vulnerable. Was there anything about writing or recording this track that felt especially challenging or cathartic for you? Half way through In the song I start to speak, spoken word with a tremble, voice shaky, breathing heavy – that was hard to record and I did it in one take so it had the authenticity – I needed it to be real, it was real and to the point my sound engineer said – you ok? It was a heavy session – unleashing the feeling when I got the tattoo. 3. The title suggests permanence — something etched into the soul. What does the idea of a “tattoo” represent for you in the context of love and loss? A tattoo for me is an unspoken tribute to your loved one, where words can’t find you – art and music can. 4. Many people carry grief quietly, without words. What do you hope listeners who are navigating their own loss will feel or take away from this song? Grief takes someone to places sometimes you can’t come back from. I hope that through my journey someone will reach out and say “ I need to talk” we suffer so much with grief in silence, society expects us to mourn and move on as the world doesn’t wait for pause but we need to give ourselves permission to grieve, feel and move on as it were when we are able. Most of us including me learn to adapt to a new normal. What is normal? I’m still navigating but my music helps and this one does too. I feel so free. 5. Musically and emotionally, how does “Tattoo For You” reflect where you are right now as an artist compared to your previous releases? This one is similar to some releases having deep meaning but mostly I have talked of past hurt. This is raw 2023 hurt and the worst kind of loss. For me it’s a recent realness about it. From my timeline of song writing I shouldn’t be singing about this loss for a few more years but what I’ve learnt is that you can’t bottle things up, you have to unleash to heal so here we are! 6. You invite listeners to connect and even reach out if the song stirs emotions. How important is that sense of shared kōrero and community in your music journey moving forward? I think it’s hugely important. I want to be able to help others directly or indirectly with my song and sharing stories of past loved ones where we have connections by way of art on skin is a universal talking point. I want to be able to put a song out and it not only mean something to me but to the listener. VANESSA TOTTLE
Jaime’s Tone

Jaime’s Tone We spoke with Jaime’s Tone about the debut EP A New Life, its split-release concept, progressive rock leanings, hands-on production, and the personal reflections driving this focused new chapter forward. 1. “A New Life” marks your first-ever 3-song EP release. What inspired you to split your upcoming project into two separate EPs instead of releasing singles or a full record at once? Many artists now consider that albums and EPs are better suited to well-known artists and prefer to issue singles more often. I have decided to pursue a more original approach, and split my next EP in two separate releases: a first one with three songs, and then another EP with four songs. Considering the type of music that I write, I believe that it makes more sense than releasing singles one by one. 2. You mention leaning a bit closer toward progressive rock on this EP while still keeping pop-rock and hard-rock elements. What drove this shift in sound, and how do you feel it represents your artistic evolution? My music has always been a mix between progressive rock, hard rock and pop-rock. In my “Best Of” that was released at the beginning of 2025, I took the approach of editing some of the songs to shorten them and make them more “radio-ready”. This time, I wanted my songs to sound more like what I like to listen to, hence the closer proximity to progressive rock. 3. This is also your first time handling production, mixing, and mastering yourself. What motivated you to take full control of the technical side, and what were the biggest challenges or discoveries during the process? Although I am very grateful to the mixing and mastering engineers who worked on my previous releases, especially Etienne Pelosoff who mixed and mastered my two latest albums. Since the inception of Jaime’s Tone in 2019, I had always been hesitant to move towards mixing and mastering, but this time I really wanted the titles to sound as close as possible to what I had in mind when I put them together. When I listen to the result, I am glad I did make this move and take these steps into my own hands. 4. The lyrics on this EP explore themes related to everyday life. Can you talk about the personal experiences or reflections that shaped songs like “A New Life” and “Today and Tomorrow”? Most of my lyrics are a mix of personal experience and imagination. I have encountered several people who are “workaholic”, and I always find this quite difficult to comprehend. I think it is like an addiction, and I wanted to expose this issue in a song, which became “A New Life”. “Today and Tomorrow” is more about life in general and things we encounter during our lifetime. 5. The EP includes an instrumental track, “Celebration.” What role does this piece play in the overall narrative or emotional journey of the EP? I am first and foremost a musician. Time to time, when I have a nice piece of music that stands for itself and does not need lyrics, I keep it as an instrumental. I Believe that it has a more joyous echo than the two other songs, and balances nicely the EP. 6. A music video accompanies the single “A New Life.” How does the visual component complement the song, and what message or atmosphere were you hoping to capture through the video? I wanted with the video to show images that were closely related to the theme of the song. I think that it does exactly that, translating the words into images. I also hope to reach an audience that is more into videos and less into music. Jaime’s Tone
Whiskey General

Whiskey General Rooted in instinct, honesty, and lived experience, this interview explores Whiskey General’s Mooreish—its emotional core, collaborations, personal loss, and why it feels like a defining closing chapter. 1. Mooreish feels confident without being flashy, very grounded in instinct and lived experience. When you were writing and producing the album, how conscious were you of stripping things back to what truly mattered emotionally? It really depended on the song and who I was writing with. As the producer, I actually love the paraphernalia that comes with a track. In fact, my co songwriters often joke that I over produce rather than under produce.What kept me grounded was always the lyrics and the message. The lyrics act like an anchor for me. No matter how far a song wandered, if the words felt honest and necessary, I knew I was on the right path. If the production started pulling focus away from the meaning, that’s when I’d strip things back. That, and imagining both Rich and Jack rolling their eyes, when I sent the production demos to them.But it wasn’t about minimalism. It was about instinct. Mooreish comes from lived experience, and the production had to respect that rather than dress it up. In a time when AI in music is becoming more common, grounding songs in real words and real human experience matters even more to me. 2. The album opens with the raw urgency of “The Beast” and moves into the politically charged “Love Like a River,” featuring the Zamar Gospel Choir. How did those collaborations and themes shape the album’s early momentum? The Beast was initially written with Jack Evans, a long term collaborator who also plays guitar across most of the album. We’ve worked together for a long time, toured together, and even lived together in London, so that collaboration is almost instinctive. We’d already played The Beast live before it was recorded, at a time when everything felt urgent and unresolved, which naturally fed into the energy of the track. The finale is a nod to Kate Bush if you’ve heard it carefully.Love Like a River was co written with Rich Merit, the bassist for Whiskey General. Writing with Rich is a slower process. He takes time, questions decisions, and looks at songs from every angle. That approach suited the subject that LLAR was about.The Zamar Gospel Choir from South Africa came later. I wanted the song to end with something that felt collective and human rather than confrontational. Given the political noise, global tension, and constant division we’re all living with, that sense of shared voice felt important. Once the right people were involved, the song finally made sense. 3. “Lions” has a rallying, almost anthemic energy, enhanced by the Ukrainian brass section. What drew you to that sound, and what did you want the track to communicate beyond its immediate impact? I wanted Lions to feel like a sports anthem for the underdog. David vs Goliath, Rocky Balboa vs Apollo Creed etc.Using a Ukrainian brass section felt instinctively right. Brass carries pride and resilience without aggression, and in a world shaped by war, power plays, and people being pushed to the margins, that felt meaningful without needing explanation.Structurally, it’s a simple song. Two chords and that’s it. That simplicity leaves space for people to place their own struggles into it, whether that’s personal, political, or economic. I think that’s why it’s connected with listeners and found its way onto so many playlists. Get messages from people who say that they’ve used the song during their Gym sessions to a chap who said he played it when doing his chemo!! 4. Tracks like “Wind Up Toy Car” and “Wildfire” introduce a more reflective, nostalgic side to the record. How important was it for you to balance power with vulnerability across the album? That balance was important. Wildfire is deeply personal and speaks directly to experiences that shaped me. Wind Up Toy Car is almost an extension of that story, like the emotional aftermath.Between the two, Wind Up Toy Car carries more weight musically, but it’s still rooted in vulnerability. It also features what I genuinely think is one of the best guitar solos you’ve probably never heard, played by Jack Evans.Power on its own means very little without vulnerability. 5. “In Memoriam” and even the album title Mooreish carry a deep personal connection to Bob Moore. How did honoring his memory influence the emotional arc and meaning of the record? Bob Moore worked more closely with Rich than with me as they knew each other for a longer time. But even in the short time I knew him, he left a real impact. I play his guitar and still use his Hot Rod Deluxe amp, so his presence is physically part of the record now and moving forward.Bob, like Rich, taught me a lot about nuance in songwriting. Not just what to play, but what to leave out. Scattering his ashes over the Thames was incredibly emotional for us, and that sense of loss shaped the album.It felt important to honor patience and craft at a time when everything feels rushed, disposable, and driven by algorithms rather than care. 6. With Mooreish being the last full-length Whiskey General album for a while, and future plans shifting toward standalone singles, how do you see this record standing within the band’s broader journey and legacy? This album took a huge toll on me. Producing, mixing, writing, organising, releasing. It’s a mammoth effort, especially as an independent artist. It affects your relationships, your work life, and your mental space far more than people realise. Mooreish was released on 4 July 2025, but I’m only doing interviews and promotion now because I genuinely needed time to recover. I also lost my dog last October, which made stepping back into creative life harder than I expected.Normally, albums have highs and fillers. With Mooreish, every song took real care to finish. There were no shortcuts. That level of attention
Franxie

Franxie In this interview, Franxie opens up about “Nobody’s Home,” discussing dissociation, emotional shutdown, minimalist production, and songwriting as self-recognition, tracing a quieter, inward chapter toward an independently built EP journey. 1. “Nobody’s Home” deals with dissociation rather than a traditional narrative like heartbreak. What made you want to explore emotional shutdown as the core of this song?There wasn’t any intentional exploration when I wrote it. I wasn’t trying to explain anything or frame it a certain way, I was just trying to find words for what I was feeling, or what I wasn’t feeling. Writing the song helped me recognise that shutdown as a coping mechanism rather than something I was being overwhelmed by. 2. The line “the lights are on, blinds are drawn, nobody’s home” feels central to the track. Can you talk about how that lyric came together?That line came together instinctively. I kept picturing a house that looks lived in from the outside but feels empty inside. It was a simple image that captured that internal distance. The blinds being drawn adds a sense of control and self-protection, rather than letting everything fall apart. 3. Compared to your debut single Fucking Around, this release feels quieter and more inward-looking. How do you see these two songs connecting within the same body of work?I wrote the two songs about a year apart, but I see them as connected moments rather than separate ideas. Fucking Around is more outward and restless, while “Nobody’s Home” turns inward. They sit in the same emotional space but respond to it differently, which is something I’ve carried through my writing and into how I perform them live. 4. The song relies on gentle acoustic textures and very restrained vocals. How intentional was that minimal approach in reflecting the theme? The minimal approach came out of a lot of trial and error. I actually struggled with the mix and experimented a lot with recording, production, and instrumentation, constantly making small tweaks and trying different ideas. I’m not a strong guitarist and I rely on a few familiar patterns, but this song never felt like the guitar should be the centre. I wanted the music to move in a way that feels like listening inward rather than outward. I love songs that leave space for interpretation, where listeners can place themselves inside the lyrics. Even for me, I love this song but I also kind of zone out listening to it, just vibing, and that felt true to the emotional state. Dissociation isn’t loud, it’s empty, and I didn’t want the production to interrupt that. 5. You’ve mentioned that shutting down was a coping mechanism rather than an ending. Did writing “Nobody’s Home” change the way you understand that emotional state?It definitely opened up my awareness of it. There’s an irony in being a songwriter who writes about feelings while also struggling to identify them in real time. When a song pours out of me, I usually have an “oh shit” moment where I realise, that’s how I feel. Writing this one helped me take control of my own narrative and do what I needed to do for myself. 6. As an independent, self-produced artist releasing music at your own pace, what are you hoping listeners take away from “Nobody’s Home” as you continue building toward an EP in 2026? I hope the song can sit with people in quiet moments, especially late at night when you’re alone. I never expected this song to actually be released, so there’s something really nice about letting it go. Releasing music independently has allowed me to put myself out there more honestly, and I’ll keep sharing what I’m working on as it comes together. franxiemusic | Instagram, Facebook, TikTok | Linktree
Lisa Gizara

Lisa Gizara Lisa Gizara’s art blends explosive abstract paintings with haunting black-and-white photography. Guided by intuition, emotion, and persistence, her work invites viewers into meditative, mysterious landscapes of chaos and serenity alike. 1. Your work spans both explosive abstract paintings and mysterious black-and-white photography. How do you decide which medium to use for a particular idea or emotion? Painting is a deeply emotional experience for me. It brings me the greatest joy, and yet, at the same time, it can be profoundlyexhausting. When the intensity becomes too much, and I need to step away, I reach for my camera. Photography offers me another way to create—one that is quieter, less emotionally charged, yet still deeply fulfilling. There is great satisfaction in making a beautiful photograph while being able to maintain quieter way of creating beauty. 2. Many of your photographs use infrared film to reveal hidden aspects of landscapes. What draws you to this invisible spectrum, and how does it influence your creative process? Working with infrared cameras and films is truly a mysterious visual treasure hunt. When I come upon a scene that calls to me, after I shoot it, I never know how it will reveal itself. The image only emerges later, back in the studio, as I work with it. This uncertainty mirrors my painting practice, especially in abstraction. Abstract painting is unpredictable and intuitive—it feels as though something moves through me rather than coming from me. Similarly, when I see a scene that takes my breath away, I have to stop, pause, and try to capture it. 3. Your artwork has appeared on sets of major TV shows and in the private collections of actors like Jennifer Lawrence and Bruce Dern. How has working with Hollywood impacted your artistic vision or approach? After getting my fine arts degree, I moved to Los Angeles from a small town in Massachusetts. I worked as an on-set still photographer for television and film sets, eventually moving into public relations and event photography. The diverse and fascinating Hollywood industry supported my art practice and opened up an exciting, creative, and very satisfying way for me to make a living, all the while allowing me to build my own personal body of artwork. 4. Abstract expressionism and romantic realism both seem to inspire your paintings. How do you balance chaos and serenity within a single piece? For me, the act of painting is a constant push and pull. Often, the painting leads, and I blindly follow. It often becomes a dance— incorporating my raw, expressive, and unpredictable painterly gestures. Followed by moments of quiet refinement, in an ongoing effort to make sense of the creative chaos. Sometimes the painting opens itself willingly; other times it resists, challenging me until the very end. 5. Reflecting on your journey, what were some of the biggest challenges you faced as an artist, and how did you overcome them? My greatest challenge has always been time—protecting it, honoring it, and trusting the journey. I always chose part-time work so I could paint, even though it meant living with financial uncertainty. For much of my younger life, I flew by the seat of my pants, guided more by the necessity to create than by the security of money. In doing so, I carved out the space to build a 35-year archive of paintings, drawings, and photographs. All of my work has been made through persistence, trust, and an unwavering need to create. 6. For viewers new to your work, what is the experience or feeling you hope people take away when they see a Gizara painting or photograph? I hope people who see my work will feel the passion that lives within each piece. I pray it invites them to slow down, to breathe, and to enter a quiet, meditative space. If my work offers my viewers a moment of calm reflection, then I am very grateful. HOME – GizaraArts.com