1. The album takes its name from the Mesoamerican feathered serpent deity — a figure representing wind, knowledge, the union of earth and sky. What drew you to Quetzalcoatl as a central image, and how does that mythology thread its way through the album’s themes?

We have been aware of the feathered serpent deity for quite a while. he was central to Aztec, Toltec and Maya cultures. The legend also has it that he appeared as an old man with a long beard, who disappeared over the sea never to return. It is a standalone song, the other songs are about other subjects, but it’s a great track and makes a good title for the album.

There was also a Cretaceous azhdarchid pterosaur called Quetzalcoatlus which was the biggest pterosaur that ever lived. Tim said “when I wrote the music for Quetzalcoatl I was expecting Dick to write about the Dinosaur.  But Dick was drawn to all of that Aztec and Mayan stuff.”  Dick said “Right I was, it makes a better song, how do you write a song about an extinct flying dinosaur?”

• Yeah! Make sense. Well, “Quetzalcoatl” has been described as your most cohesive and adventurous record yet — heavy rock sitting alongside prog folk, jazz, a vampire waltz, and Zen philosophy. How do you hold all of those wildly different influences together under one roof without the album feeling scattered?

The Tirith in some ways is a unique band, many people find us difficult to directly compare to other bands and artists. Because our influences are so wide that is hardly surprising, and we aren’t trying to be like anybody else. Many current prog bands are heavily influenced by Genesis, we aren’t.  Neither do we play what we would refer to as standard prog, lots of thrashing around, complicated time signatures, seemingly just for the sake of it, and doom-laden lyrics strung together in an ad hoc style.  We play properly constructed songs, sometimes featuring stories, often with soaring instrumental sections. We are included in the prog rock genre really because there is no other genre that fits. I could give you a list of our influences but it would take up a whole page and you don’t really want that.

• The space narrative that began on “Tales from the Tower” and continued through “Return of the Lydia” gets a new chapter here with “Back to Space” — a stranded spaceman in New York, unable to adapt to city life, deciding the only way forward is back to the stars. How did that storyline develop over three albums, and was it always planned as an ongoing saga?

There was no plan, but it is a fascination.  It all started really with a song called “The Tower” when we were very young, about a tower on a distant planet surrounded by methane snow.  Tim was inspired by Ray Bradbury to write that song.  Most of the development of the theme though has been written by Dick. Dick says “the space theme and our ongoing story is always in the back of my mind when writing songs for a new album.  Where to go with it next? The song Return of the Lydia, the title track of the last album, seemed a logical move to bring the space ship back to earth but it also afforded an opportunity to fill in more details about the adventures along the way. And so we come to Back to Space on the latest album.”  “I’ve been thinking about that angle for a while, the nightmare of city life with surreal lyrics, and then the big chorus of Back to Space.”  Has the adventure finished? Not sure, but also not sure at this point where it might go. But you know its all a bit tongue in cheek.

• “No Mind (Mushin)” originated as an improvisation and explores the Japanese Zen concept of empty, thought-free flow — total presence and effortless action. How does that philosophy of improvisation and instinct inform the way The Tirith approaches music-making more broadly?

OMG, it doesn’t, we are not a band that does a lot of improvisation, but occasionally we do and then develop a tune from there.  But in real life we are inspired by this approach.  Tim first came across these ideas when practicing martial arts, it is basically a form of meditation, which has been adopted by both of us

• Tim Cox’s history includes being part of the production team behind Rozalla’s “Everybody’s Free (to Feel Good)” — still a dancefloor anthem today — before returning to his prog rock roots. Tim, how does that commercial pop and dance world experience shape the way you approach songwriting and production for The Tirith?

Working with drums machines, sequencers and samplers in the late 80s it became possible to create an entire arrangement of a song before recording it to tape and mixing it. This was a big step from mapping out a song on say, acoustic guitar or piano, and then rehearsing and arranging a band before recording and mixing.

This has had a huge influence on the way we can work nowadays. With modern Digital Audio Workstations (DAWs) we can map out an entire song, before rehearsing and recording the individual members of the band, who can put their own style and interpretation on the song.  In dance music, most of the music remains programmed and sequenced, apart from the vocals. In our songs, pretty much everything is replaced by the musicians in the band playing in their own way.

• The band’s origins go back to Loughborough Grammar School in the 1970s — two boys sitting opposite each other with acoustic guitars, playing only original material from the very start. Over fifty years later, what is it about the Tim Cox and Dick Cory creative partnership that has kept it alive and relevant through everything?

It’s a special thing and we still like to do that, but it doesn’t really reflect the way we work together today.  We work together and separately to create the songs and we both have our own particular strengths. For Tim’s songs of which there are 3 on the Quetzalcoatl album, “Quetzalcoatl”, “Back to Space” and “Dancing With Vampires”, Tim will map out the whole arrangement of the song but without vocals, lyrics or topline.  Dick then works up a topline melody, writes the lyrics and makes it into a song sometimes suggesting changes to the arrangements along the way. Dick’s songs (of which there are 5 on Quetzalcoatl, “Rabbit Ings”, Spirit of the Volcano”, “Masters of Highways”, “Save The Oak” and “The Riddles”)  are usually presented in a rougher form as simple often chaotic complete songs with topline and lyrics, but then Tim sorts them out, changing the arrangements, adding instrumental sections and turning them into the finished article. “Moon King” is an Ant song but with extensive work on the arrangement and topline by Dick.  “The Slide” is a band collaboration, starting with a section from Tim, with a section by Ant in the middle.  Dick wrote lyrics and topline for both sections. “No Mind (Mushin)” started life as a band improvisation which grew and evolved into its final form. That’s the creative process, we love playing live and hope to translate that into live energy.

• Keyboardist Anthony Hill joined in 2022 and the band has spoken about how the lineup has genuinely gelled since then. What did Ant’s arrival unlock in the sound — and how has the dynamic between all four members shaped what “Quetzalcoatl” became?

Before I talk about Ant I would like to tell you about our drummer Paul Williams who can get overlooked.  Paul was our main drummer in the 70s before we went our separate ways.  He was the one who brought us back together after the in 2010.  Unfortunately he had to leave us again in 2012 due to heavy commitments with other bands.  But he rejoined us in 2020 and has been with us ever since. The Tirith always feels right with Paul sitting behind us on that drum stool.  He has an effortless bouncy technique which we love, having Paul on drums has made it possible for us to play our more difficult songs with relative ease. We are trying to keep him going for as long as possible (he does suffer from rheumatism now in his hands), so fingers crossed.

When Ant joined in 2022 it completed the circle. We had wanted a keyboard player for a while that fitted with us, and we had tried a few.  Keyboards up until that point were played by both Tim and Dick on record, but that was hard to replicate on stage. As a 3 piece we would bring keyboards on stage but our hands were mostly playing guitars, although Dick did also play keyboard pedals which were effective to some degree.  We had been aware of Anthony Hill for a few years and had spoken to him before, but at that time he was busy with his own band.  By 2022 he was fed up with them and contacted us asking to join The Tirith.  For Ant its been a steep learning curve, he has had to learn all our previous albums and the way we work technically, and has now started to contribute to the process, eg Moon King.

• The album closes with “The Riddles” — lyrics full of classic riddles, and at its heart M.O.A.I., Malvolio’s riddle from Shakespeare’s Twelfth Night, for which there is no solution. Why end the album on an unsolvable riddle — and is that a deliberate philosophical statement about the nature of prog itself?

We didn’t purposely intend to, its just when we ordered the album The Riddles ended up in that position, honest !  But seriously we like little quirks and mysteries, we did let you into the secret though.  Maybe we shouldn’t have and you would now be asking us, ”what is M.O.A.I. ?”

• The Tirith have performed at the Cambridge Rock Festival, HRH Prog, Sonic Rock Solstice, and venues across the UK and Europe. With “Quetzalcoatl” arriving in July, what does the live picture look like — and are there festival appearances or tour dates in the works to support the album?

Our next 3 gigs are all small festivals, Steel City Prog at Network Sheffield in Sept, our own festival Prog Rhino 3 at Greystones Sheffield in Oct, and Spriggan Fest in Reading in January 27.

• The band began as Minas Tirith in the 70s — named after a place in Middle-earth — and has always sat at that intersection of prog rock and dark fantasy. Looking back across fifty-plus years and forward into whatever comes after “Quetzalcoatl”, what does this band still have left to say?

Although we did originate all those years ago there were no recordings from that era. So it’s a lifetime compressed really starting in 2015 with the release of “Tales from the Tower” the songs of our youth. Followed by “A Leap into the Dark” in 2019 and “Return of the Lydia” 2022, both with newer songs.  But I think our latest Quetzalcoatl is surpasses all of them.

I think with Quetzalcoatl you have to immerse yourself in the whole album to really get it.  The tracks are all so different, they pull you this way and that, the moods change, but always with that underlying rock sensibility. The album is more keyboard based than our earlier albums, but the guitar solos are still there, just shorter than previously. We have tried to cut repetition down and there is a whole load of music in there.  Just dive in and immerse yourself in it!

And we still have a lot to say!

• “Anam Cara” is a Gaelic phrase meaning “soul friend” — a concept rooted in deep spiritual kinship and connection. Why that title for this record, and what does it mean in the context of what you were creating?

I originally had a Celtic mythology theme for this album, but drifted from that during the writing process but the phrase “Anam Cara” sounded right for the album. Music to me is like a soul friend.

• You’ve described this as your most experimental release yet — and Sun Raven’s sound already spans atmospheric prog, post-rock, sludge, jazz, and psychedelia. Where do you feel you pushed furthest into new territory on this album compared to your previous two records?

The first two records were more rooted in metal music with elements of progressive, alternative, ambient. I felt like I had gone as far as I could creatively within that style. For “Anam Cara” I wanted it to be more difficult for the listener to define a certain style and just wrote with almost total freedom but still having elements that made it sound like a Sun Raven album.

• Sun Raven is entirely your own vehicle — you write, compose, produce, and perform everything yourself. What does that total creative solitude give you that a band environment couldn’t — and is there anything it takes away?

I like having the freedom to create what I want without having to compromise for other people. Part of the reason Sun Raven is a solo project is because I haven’t been able to find like-minded musicians that live nearby to work with. Sun Raven started as a band with a vocalist and bassist but the creative process wasn’t working with those other musicians so I decided to do everything myself and make the music purely instrumental.

• The album draws comparisons to artists as varied as John Carpenter, Mogwai, Russian Circles, Tool, and Godspeed! You Black Emperor. When you’re composing instrumentally without lyrics to anchor the listener, how do you guide the emotional and narrative journey of a piece from beginning to end?

Song titles play an important role to set the mood of an instrumental song, I think they give the listener a visual starting point. Having an underlying melody is also important, even if the guitar part isn’t playing a lead guitar melody, having strong melodic notes within a chord progression creates a memorable song without a vocalist.

• “Anam Cara” is described as the perfect soundtrack for creative thinking — dense, hypnotic, and cinematic. Do you compose with a visual or narrative world in mind, and if so, what did the world of this album look and feel like to you while you were building it?

Sometimes I have a theme for a song and that will influence the type of instruments, chord progressions, time signatures I use. Other times it will just be a spark of inspiration that seems to come out of nowhere and I feel as if I am more of a vehicle for this creative process and I try and flow with it as much as possible.

• Three albums in and the project is still evolving rapidly. What does the horizon look like for Sun Raven — and is there a sound or a concept already forming that might take the project somewhere new?

I feel like I have hit a creative peak with this album and Sun Raven. There will probably be another Sun Raven album in the future but for the near future I am focusing on a new project that I hope will also become a band with other musicians, it’s called Evahfar and it will be the first public project to feature me on vocals as well as performing all the instruments for the debut EP. It’s sound is based in Alternative Rock with Jazz and Folk influences. I am really excited about it.

• The album is dedicated to Batty and to all the beloved pets and friends you’ve lost. Can you tell us a little about who Batty was to you — and how her passing became the moment that crystallized everything this record needed to say?

Batty was a little black cat who had been with me for sixteen years.  She was different somehow than my other furry friends.  I adored them all, but somehow Batty and I developed a special relationship.  Maybe it was because she was so dainty and delicate, I felt I had an elevated responsibility to protect her.  She would follow me everywhere and sleep on my arm at night.

She came down with a respiratory condition that the vets couldn’t heal.  When I made the decision to end her suffering, it hurt me deeply.  It was only then that I realized how much I depended on her.  She was my anchor to hope and optimism.  No matter how bad things were getting in my life, as long as she was with me, I could find the desire to keep going.  When she departed, it literally felt as though something had been torn out of my heart.  I felt empty and alone.  While deep in my grief, I had a powerful waking vision of being alone forever.  Everyone knows intellectually that death and loss are a part of life, but this was beyond mere awareness.  I was experiencing emotionally the unavoidable fact that everything I love, and will ever love, will one day leave.

At one point I decided to put my grief down in words.  I knew that other people were certainly going through the same experience, and I wanted to do whatever I could with the abilities that I have to try and let people know that they are not alone in their grief.  Since music had always been a powerful therapy for me, I turned my words into lyrics and tried to capture various shades of grief, which eventually turned into Acoustic Mourning.

• You describe that period as a Jenga collapse — friends, family, pets, your job, your marriage — all falling away. How did music become the place you turned to, and at what point did you realize that what you were creating was becoming an album rather than just a way of coping?

Making an album at some point in my life had been a goal for many years, but it was something I had to keep pushing into the future due to various responsibilities.  About a year after Batty passed, I was still unemployed and depressed, and I decided that it was now or never.  I began treating the album as a job, starting early in the morning and continuing on until the evening.

• You’re blind and entirely self-taught in music theory, guitar, and vocal performance — committing seriously to music only from 2012 onward. What did that journey of learning look like, and what methods and approaches did you develop that others might never have needed to find?

I knew I would have to do everything myself, so I embarked upon a journey of learning the craft of music along with recording, mixing, and mastering.  I searched for all the training materials I could find, which had to be in an audio format due to my lack of eyesight.  The practical application was the most difficult.  I had to find and obtain the right computer with the right screen reading software and the right recording and editing software that would all work together and permit me to perform all of the necessary tasks with a computer keyboard only, no mouse.

Most of the software, including virtual instruments and plugins, were totally inaccessible.  I had even contacted various gear manufacturers to encourage them to make their products more accessible, without much success.  The only company that I’m aware of at the moment that has made such an effort is Native Instruments.  A few years ago they released a music keyboard with a feature that would announce selections and parameter changes, which opened up their vast library of virtual instruments to blind persons.

When I did have a job, I spent obscene amounts of money searching for the right gear.  It was an obsession.

• The album was built by treating music like a full-time job — ten hours a day, seven days a week in early 2026. What does that kind of focused, solitary creative process feel like from the inside — and how do you know when a song is finished?

When I sit down to write, I really don’t have any starting ideas.  I begin by looking inside myself, at different memories from my life, searching for the emotional resonance.  When I find something, I start typing out lines that attempt to capture what I am feeling.  The goal at this point is to find a single idea to develop the song around.  Once I have that idea, I try to find phrases and images that add flesh to the skeleton of the idea, and then begin sorting these elements into verse and chorus sections.

I can usually feel when a song is complete.  After combing through the lyrics multiple times, I step away for a few hours and then come back to it with a more relaxed mindset for another review.

• The tracklist carries titles like Beautiful Oblivion, In the End, Going Home, No One Gets Out Alive, and Table for One — there’s a clear emotional and philosophical arc here. Did you sequence the album deliberately as a journey, and is there a track you’d point a new listener to first?

Yes, the tracklist was chosen specifically to take listeners on a journey through grief and loss.  I didn’t want to just drop a bundle of sorrow onto people and potentially leave them feeling miserable.  Tracks like Through the Night, Thinking of You, and Ride Your Wave were created to provide an emotional balance.

The one track I would point someone to as a way of capturing the essence of the album is probably the final track, Mercy.  The song is about someone who is so broken by the tragedies of life that he is yearning to be taken from this world to the next realm of existence.

• Any music videos planned to bring some of these songs to life visually?

Yes.  A video for Beautiful Oblivion is currently underway.

• In such an AI-driven era, how do you see the future of indie artists in particular — and the music industry in general?

This is such an important question right now.  I actually have a series on my YouTube channel discussing this very topic. AI is just the next step in the evolution of digital music production technology.  Songwriters in particular now have a method of expression for their lyrical creations that they may not have had access to before.  AI generated music will certainly provide a greater level of competition for listeners.  A recent article stated that nearly 100,000 new tracks are uploaded to streaming services each days.  That can be overwhelming for new artists trying to capture someone’s attention.

I believe Indie artists will eventually embrace AI as yet another production tool, the same way they embraced MIDI, electronic music, and AI driven production tools.  Songwriters can now manifest their lyrics without depending upon another group of people to interpret their vision, and traditional musicians will likely use AI to help find lyrical and melodic ideas.

• Thank you for your time and music.

Thanks Mena for the time and the excellent questions!

Now, following a series of deluxe-edition reissues and a trilogy of groundbreaking singles, he releases his sixth album, Love Crash—his first new record in 13 years. On the album’s 10 tracks, songs of heartbreak and loss intertwine with Block’s characteristic vulnerability, humor, and his joy at simply being alive. “Cracked open and not sleeping, I reached for the guitar,” says Block. “In retrospect, each song ended up being the rung of a ladder that led me out of a very dark place. It was a rich vein of heartbreak to mine, and I made it out—but, just barely.” Produced by Chris Kuffner (Ingrid Michaelson, Regina Spektor), and mixed and mastered by ECR President Blake Morgan (Lenny Kravitz, Lesley Gore, Janita), this new album is the most highly-anticipated work in the career of one of New York City’s most indispensable artists.

⇒ Check our album review here.

Block has always broken boundaries while setting standards for commercial and critical success, but it’s his willingness to be authentic, intimate, and intelligent in his work—and his life—that has set him apart. From his first underground cult-hit record which helped launch the New York anti-folk movement of the late 1990’s, to his Glen Ballard-produced Capitol Records debut, to the four-part 2025 deluxe-edition reissuing of his storied catalog, and now this new record, his influence can be felt in every corner of modern indie, folk-punk, and lo-fi songwriting, alongside contemporaries Regina Spektor, Beck, The Moldy Peaches, and Ani DiFranco.

Block’s comeback has been fueled not only by his reissued-and-remastered catalog but also by the early success of Love Crash’s breakthrough singles, “I Thought I Won The War,” “Over And Over,” and “Firefly.” “I’ve reclaimed lost parts of myself while reaching a whole new audience along the way,” says Block, describing what he calls a once-in-a-lifetime moment. “I’m thrilled to have joined the super-cool roster at Meridian/ECR, and to have had my work reclaimed, released, and received in such a beautiful way,” says Block. “Most importantly for me, it’s all happened just in time for this new record.”

Block’s sixth album Love Crash arrives May 15th on Meridian (ECR Music Group).

One listen to this track and you will know something serious is going on here.

“You and the Blues” sits in the emotional heartland of modern blues-rock — deliberately arranged, unafraid of restraint, and built around a guitar approach that prioritises tone, sustain, and phrasing over flash. Notes that ache, bend, and linger just long enough to feel human. The rhythm section moves with a steady, almost tidal pulse — not urgent, but inevitable — creating the sensation of slow drift across dark water. Verses feel exposed and intimate. The chorus expands with weight and gravity rather than volume alone. Raw but controlled. Organic, not over-polished.

The lyrics are rich with elemental imagery — ocean, lighthouse, fire, kiln, furnace — evoking survival, isolation, and transformation. The opening image of a lighthouse beam sweeping across vast darkness places the narrator alone, unseen, sinking in slow motion. It is a powerful metaphor for emotional collapse happening quietly, out of public view.

⇒ Check out our review here.

The chorus speaks to purification through pain — walking through fire, surviving the kiln of guilt, emerging from the furnace of shame. This is not self-pity. It is reckoning. The blues here are not just a musical genre — they are a companion, a witness, perhaps the final truth when every illusion has burned away.

The atmosphere is solitary, nocturnal, and introspective — carrying the weight of someone who has burned through illusion, ego, and guilt, and come out stripped back to essentials. What remains is not defeat. It is identity. “You and the Blues” does not romanticise suffering. It acknowledges it, survives it, and stands in its aftermath — less a lament than a rite of passage. A quiet anthem for anyone who has walked through the fire and come out with nothing left but truth, tone, and the blues.

The story begins in 2021, when Michael Vdelli caught Art of Dysfunction performing live and recognised something immediately.

“I saw something special,” recalls Vdelli. “The energy, the passion, the attitude — it reminded me of why I started playing in the first place.”

⇒ Check out our review here.

He invited the band to open for Vdelli at a series of local shows. The chemistry was instant. The crowd response electric. By 2022, the band had joined Vdelli on his European tour, opening night after night to rave reviews and winning over audiences with blistering live sets. Soundchecks became jam sessions. Friendships deepened. Seeds were planted.

Now that spark has become a full-blown fire.

“It started with respect, became a friendship, and now it’s something bigger than all of us,” says Vdelli. “We knew we had something special when we plugged in. Now we want the world to hear it.”

“Даже” centers around the profound feeling of inner emptiness and the sense of loss that comes as people and places fade away. Rather than dwelling on sadness, the song frames this void as a blank canvas—a vital chance for listeners to rediscover themselves and find a new purpose.

Musically, the single stays true to Filipovich’s signature commitment to authenticity. To capture raw, honest emotions, the track was recorded entirely with live instruments. The band completely rejected VST emulations and digital synthesis, creating an organic, human soundscape that breathes with the listener.

⇒ check out our review here.

“This track is about stripping everything away to see who you really are when the noise stops,” says the band. “We wanted the music to feel as real as the lyrics, which is why every single note you hear was played live in the room.”

“Даже” (Even) is now available on all major streaming platforms.

Rather than offering a clear-cut narrative, “Frank” draws listeners into a world where composure feels fragile and certainty remains just out of reach, just like life itself. Beneath its polished exterior lies an undercurrent of tension, as moments of control brush against the possibility of collapse. The song thrives in that liminal space, allowing ambiguity to become part of its very own appeal.

The track blends alternative rock with subtle pop and classic rock influences. Layered keyboards add depth and texture, while expressive guitar lines cut through the arrangement with emotional precision. The instrumentation is constantly shifting, mirroring the song’s themes of instability and transformation without necessarily losing its sense of direction.

“Frank” does not rush to explain itself or tie together its loose ends. Instead, it embraces contradiction, vulnerability, and uncertainty; inviting listeners to find their own meaning within its shadows. With this release, They Owe Us delivers an immersive and thought-provoking listen. One that cleverly builds anticipation for what Katzengold has yet to reveal!

The song wraps listeners in shimmering guitars and intricate production, but at its heart lies a melody that easily resonates with the listener. The repeated plea, “tell me it’s not your fault,” almost feels like a confession; and instead of dictating a single interpretation, Morrison invites listeners to breathe their own stories and emotions into this line.

The way in which the song came to be, should indeed be highlighted: Morrison has shared that he doesn’t fully remember writing it, only realizing its meaning later. This sense of discovery flows through the music, giving the track a power and rawness that feels genuinely authentic. “Tell Me It’s Not Your Fault” stands out as both atmospheric and relatable, serving as an emotional centerpiece on To Find The Source and offering a tender glimpse into the promising path of Morrison’s future musical journey.

The opening track, “Extruder-Destroyer,” wastes no time getting started. Mechanical rhythms, aggressive synths, and grinding guitars arrive in full force, setting the tone for what follows. The album rarely lets up from there. “Mind Control Techniques” taps into themes of manipulation and surveillance, while “Deployed to Hell” pushes the militaristic atmosphere even further, sounding like the soundtrack to a battle fought somewhere between the physical and digital worlds.

Instead of presenting a collection of unrelated heavy tracks, Leather Laces build a consistent environment from beginning to end. The recurring imagery of resistance, obedience, and technological domination gives the record a clear identity, while the blend of electronics and metal keeps the sound dynamic throughout.

The production deserves credit as well. The layers of synthesizers and guitars feel deliberate rather than excessive, creating a dense wall of sound that remains surprisingly easy to follow. Even during its most intense moments, the album never feels cluttered.

“Unit Goes Home” immediately shifts the mood. There is still darkness here, but also a sense of aftermath, as if the dust has finally settled after the conflict. It is a fitting ending to a record that spends much of its runtime examining what happens when the line between man and machine begins to disappear.

With Intercontinental Ballistic Music, Leather Laces skillfully create a world, invite listeners into it, and commit to the vision from start to finish. The result is an industrial metal release that feels focused, immersive, and unapologetically intense!

The song begins in an unexpected place. A Baglama, a traditional Greek string instrument, introduces a brief melodic passage that feels almost fragile before the guitars arrive and shift the mood entirely. What follows is a compelling mix of grunge, alternative rock, punk spirit, and psychedelic color, all stitched together by a riff that lingers long after the song ends.

The guitars are heavy and unapologetically rough around the edges, yet melody remains at the forefront. Moments of density give way to more spacious passages, creating a natural ebb and flow rather than a constant assault of sound. The result feels lived-in rather than manufactured, as though the song has been evolving for years before finally finding its final form.

Then there are the lyrics. “Since Emilia” doesn’t hand listeners a clear narrative; instead, it circles around its subject, offering fragments and suggestions. That sense of mystery becomes part of the appeal. The title character remains elusive, and the song is stronger for it, encouraging listeners to bring their own interpretations to the experience.

The band’s confidence and ability to follow its own instincts is remarkable. Drawing from grunge, stoner rock, and punk without becoming beholden to any one of them, YACOVELLI delivers a song that feels both familiar and forward-looking. With “Since Emilia,” the band proves that rock music can still surprise when it’s willing to take a few unexpected turns!