The lead single “Save the Oak” is available now ahead of the album’s July 3rd release.

Quetzalcoatl takes its name and its spirit from the feathered serpent deity at the heart of Aztec, Toltec, and Maya civilisation — a god of wind, Venus, dawn, knowledge, and the union of earth and sky. The name is pronounced KET-suhl-koh-AHT-uhl, and the legend carries with it the image of an old man with a long beard who disappeared over the sea and never returned. It is, in other words, a myth about departure, transformation, and the things that endure across time. Fitting, for a band with this particular history.

Across twelve tracks, Quetzalcoatl moves with the range and confidence of a band that has genuinely found its groove. The influences are wide — folk, jazz, heavy rock, country, prog — and the album wears them all without strain, shifting between expansive cinematic arrangements and lean, hard-driving riffs, between introspective acoustic passages and full-band eruptions, between ancient mysticism and cosmic absurdism. Fans of Rush, Porcupine Tree, Yes, Genesis, Pink Floyd, Dream Theater, Opeth, and Spock’s Beard will find themselves deep in familiar and exciting territory.

Each track earns its place:

“Back to Space” revisits the space privateer narrative begun on Tales from the Tower — one of the spacemen, stranded in New York after his crewmates have all passed, unable to adapt to the nightmare of city life, makes a decision. The only way forward is back up. The song opens with a huge, dirty guitar riff from Tim Cox before cascading through chaotic verses, withholding its first chorus until the three-minute mark. Worth the wait.

“Rabbit Ings” is a foray into prog folk-rock — nylon string acoustic guitar introducing a song that moves between delicate acoustic passages and hard rock sections. The title draws from old Norse, referring to the marshy water meadows still embedded in Northern English place names. The flute? That’s Ant on keyboards.

“Dancing With Vampires” is a romantic waltz with a twist: the alluring female vampire, the beauty and the sweet perfume, and then — “we turn as she sinks her teeth into my neck.”

“No Mind (Mushin)” explores the Japanese Zen concept of the empty, thought-free mental state — that place of total presence where action becomes intuitive and effortless, free from ego, fear, and hesitation. Born from improvisation, it carries that quality throughout.

“The Riddles” closes the album with a rock song whose lyrics contain many common riddles — and one that has no solution: M.O.A.I., Malvolio’s riddle from Shakespeare’s Twelfth Night. The album plays out, as ever, with a guitar solo from Tim Cox.

The Tirith‘s origins run all the way back to the 1970s, when guitarist Tim Cox and vocalist/bassist Dick Cory were schoolmates at Loughborough Grammar School — two boys facing each other with acoustic guitars, one a songwriter and Beatles-influenced folkie, the other a guitar player with a habit of writing strange songs. They formed a band called Minas Tirith (yes, that Minas Tirith — they were all deeply into Tolkien), performed exclusively original material from the very beginning, and played gigs around Loughborough with Paul Williams on drums before the band dissolved when Dick went to university.

What followed was over thirty years of parallel lives. Tim Cox went on to a career as a professional musician — playing in London bands including Escape from New York, Fracture, and Airstrip One, before moving into dance music production as part of the Band of Gypsies songwriting and production team. Their work with Rozalla produced “Everybody’s Free (to Feel Good)” — still a major dancefloor anthem to this day. Dick continued playing and writing throughout those decades, quietly building a body of work that would eventually find its home on later Tirith records.

They stayed in touch. In 2010, at the instigation of drummer Paul Williams, they came back together as The Tirith and have not stopped since. Three albums followed — Tales from the Tower (2015), A Leap into the Dark (2019), and Return of the Lydia (2022) — each noted for its conceptual scope and Tim Cox’s expressive guitar work. Keyboardist Anthony Hill joined in 2022, and with the current lineup now fully settled, the band have reached a new level of cohesion. Quetzalcoatl is the proof.

Over the past fifteen years The Tirith have performed across the UK — Sheffield, London, Leicester, Nottingham, Newcastle, Southampton, Hull, and beyond — as well as Rotterdam, and at festivals including the Cambridge Rock Festival, HRH Prog VI and XIII, Nene Valley Rock Festival, Sonic Rock Solstice, and Prog for Peart. They have supported Focus (twice), Karnataka, Gnidrolog (twice), and toured with Paul Menell (ex-IQ).

The Tirith are a UK progressive rock band formed in 2010, built on the partnership of guitarist/producer Tim Cox and vocalist/bassist Dick Cory, with Paul Williams on drums and Anthony Hill on keyboards. With roots stretching back to the 1970s and a discography that includes Tales from the Tower (2015), A Leap into the Dark (2019), and Return of the Lydia (2022), the band blend prog rock with folk, jazz, heavy rock, and conceptual storytelling rooted in mysticism, mythology, and the darker corners of the human imagination. Quetzalcoatl is their fourth album, out July 3, 2026.

“Miles Away captures us at the point where instinct, ambition and emotional honesty collide,” says frontman Ollie Palmer. “There are big, loud moments rooted in honest songwriting, full of energy and catchy hooks. But there are also intimate moments where you really hear what we’re feeling underneath it all. We’re so excited to finally share it with the world.”

The lead single “Miles Away” is a high-energy anthem about the excitement and gamesmanship of meeting someone new on a night out. With bouncy verses, a soaring chorus, and a playful guitar solo, it has already become a fan favourite in live sets. The full EP balances crunching guitar anthems with moments of vulnerability, showcasing the band’s signature sound: bold, guitar-driven indie pop with sharp melodic sensibility, soaring vocals, and arena-sized ambition.

Patience Please are a four-piece powerhouse based in West London, crafting bold, crunching guitar-driven music with a sharp pop sensibility, soaring vocals, emotional immediacy, and arena-sized ambition. Fronted by Ollie Palmer on vocals and guitar, with Arthur Marriott on lead guitar, Tommy Lane on drums, and Tilly Cripwell on bass, the quartet continues to bond over loud rehearsals, turned-up amps, and an unshakeable belief in the songs they are creating.

After forming, the band threw themselves into live performance, cutting their teeth at venues across London. What began with audiences made up of friends quickly grew as word of their music spread, leading to sell-out shows at venues including The Troubadour, Dingwalls 2 in Camden, The Star of Shoreditch, and a series of more intimate gigs around the city. These performances have cemented their reputation for anthemic, high-energy live shows and a strong connection with audiences.

Support for the band continues to gather pace, having released just four singles to date, including ‘Madelaine’, ‘Wasting Time’, ‘Miracle’ and ‘Pretend’. Their music has amassed over 40,000 organic streams on Spotify alone and garnered support from a selection of widely followed indie music blogs, as well as radio airplay from the likes of BBC Introducing and Radio 2. Adding further momentum, Patience Please have recently made it through to the quarter-finals of the Isle of Wight Festival’s New Blood competition, where they will compete through a series of live performances for a coveted slot on the Sky Presents stage at the Isle of Wight Festival 2026. With an extensive 2026 tour already taking shape, fans can look forward to experiencing Patience Please’s powerful live energy and connection with audiences across the UK, firmly embedding the band on the British indie music scene.

What stands out first is the physicality of the sound. “Bulldog” feels lived-in: amps pushed hard, textures left rough, space allowed for imperfections to breathe. The production keeps everything close and tactile, favoring presence over precision. It doesn’t sound assembled; it sounds unleashed. That rawness gives the track a sense of momentum that never quite settles, which keeps it engaging from start to finish.

Batson’s vocal delivery is expressive, unpredictable, and unapologetically character-driven. Rather than aiming for control, he leans into attitude, letting phrasing and tone do the storytelling. There’s humor threaded through the performance, but it’s the kind that carries an edge: knowing, slightly menacing, and very much intentional.

“Bulldog” works so well because it refuses to chase relevance or nostalgia. It pulls from glam, hard rock, and punk instinct without ever feeling like a reenactment. The song trusts its own logic, its own energy, and that confidence is what gives it staying power.

By the time it fades out, Bad Boy Butch Batson’s “Bulldog” leaves behind the sense that you’ve just witnessed something unfiltered: loud, stubborn, and fully committed to being exactly what it is..

• JustFolk began in 2012 as a studio project in Saint Paul, Minnesota, with you as the primary songwriter and vocalist, supported by professional collaborators Steven Gores and Manolo Díaz. How did this remote, transatlantic recording process—spanning Minnesota, Helena, Montana, and Ibiza, Spain—shape the band’s sound and creative dynamic over the thirteen years?

I started collaborating with producer and keyboard player Steven Gores in 2012.  We both lived in the same city: Saint Paul, Minnesota.  We would have meetings at a local coffee shop or work things out on the fly  in the studio.  But then in 2015 I moved 4,600 miles away to Ibiza, Spain and this changed everything.  It required letting each musician, some I would never meet personally, to give their best shot with almost no input from me.  It required that I let go to a higher power.  This dynamic change offered many dividends in terms of artistic creativity and independence.

• Your influences are clearly rooted in the classic rock lineage of The Beatles, Neil Young, Jeff Lynne, and Tom Petty. In what ways did these artists guide your approach to melody, vocal delivery, and lyrical honesty, particularly in balancing emotional vulnerability with accessible hooks?

I cut my musical teeth with the Beatles, live on the Ed Sullivan Show.  The most obvious Beatles’ references in my music are the major to minor chord changes.  And the double tracking of my voice can sound Lennon-esque at times in my dreams.  Neil Young’s release of “After the Gold Rush” (1970) was such a seminal and coming of age album for me.  I was literally 15 years old with all the longing and desire.  My tune “Protest to Survive” has Young’s muffling of the acoustic guitar strings with my strumming hand.  Jeff Lynne’s compositions with ELO and with his solo record “Armchair Theater” are every songwriter’s guide to song structure with melodic hooks.  I live for hooks.  The more the merrier and repeat them if possible.  The Traveling Wilburys with Tom Petty, George Harrison, Bob Dylan and Roy Orbison were the perfect delivery device for Lynne’s genius.  I hav always strived to emulate his wall of sound.

• The compilation Best of JustFolk 2012-2025 presents a chronological selection of essential tracks from your four albums and singles. What criteria did you use to choose these thirteen songs, and how does sequencing them in order reflect the evolution of your songwriting and thematic concerns—from love and life to mortality and hope?

It wasn’t rocket science.   I picked my favorite songs.  They were usually the first and second tracks of each album but not always.  The first two albums were more stripped down with my acoustic guitar. These early albums featured the electric guitar of my friend Dean Branshaw, a studio musician in Las Vegas who had worked with Pure Prairie League.  The second two albums were recorded in Ibiza, Spain and these featured the Santana-esque playing of longtime family friend Manolo Díaz.  Taking a snapshot of the 4 records, I see an  unfiltered idealism that bent toward a more sober realism.  In the fall of 2009, I had reunited with my high school sweetheart in Ibiza after 36 years of absolutely zero contact.  Barbe Lix caused a tsunami in my life.  It was the ultimate accident and pushed my music in new and never imagined directions.

• Your previous album, Grounded, was a concept record centered on death and dying, described as hopeful. How does this final compilation serve as a capstone to that exploration, and in what sense does it offer a broader retrospective of the universal human experiences you’ve addressed across the catalog?

Since I was a young boy, I was cognizant of the quick passage of time.  There was a specific chair in the living room of our family’s rambler in Smithtown, Long Island where I pondered how quickly my life had unfolded.  Lo and behold, I grew up to become a ‘dweller’ about all things, including death and dying.  This final compilation brings together a lifetime of expecting too much from others and coming to terms with what the Spanish say, “Es lo que hay.”  While recording “Grounded” our bass player had a heart attack at an airport and was dead for 20 minutes.  His first song after he completed rehab was “Don’t Turn the Lights Out.”  Can’t make this up.

• You have described yourself as the “amateur” in the group, with the rest being seasoned professionals, and noted your John Lennon-inspired double-tracked vocals and pursuit of unpolished authenticity. How did this contrast in experience contribute to the band’s distinctive spirit and chemistry?

I was absolutely the thin-voiced amateur in the band.  I knew only the most basic rhythm guitar chords and staying on tempo was not my forté.  This meant that the pros brought the songs to life.  And they did.  The sum was always greater than the individual parts.  I loved this part of the process.

• After releasing four albums and several singles over thirteen years, JustFolk has now officially retired with this compilation. What prompted the decision to conclude the project at this point, and how do you feel this body of work stands as a complete statement?

I had run out of gas, though I prefer to say I ran out of battery.  It’s less polluting.  I felt like I had exhausted my best chords and lyrics.  It was clearly time to give it a rest and spend the rest of my days enjoying the music of others.  I have now revisited vinyl records and am loving it.

• The press materials express pride in what JustFolk accomplished, while acknowledging that the music reached only a limited audience. In assembling Best of JustFolk 2012-2025, what motivated you to provide “the world a second chance” to discover these songs, and what response have you hoped to elicit from new listeners?

I always believed that I had a good body of work, even some hits.  I decided on giving one last push in the hopes of finding someone with a much bigger following than me to cover my songs.

• Having written seventy songs across seven decades—including your earlier work with the Daddy-Doo Band—this compilation marks the end of JustFolk’s chapter. Looking ahead, do you anticipate continuing to write or record in any form, perhaps solo or in new collaborations, or does this feel like a definitive close to your recorded output?

I am very proud of the work of my first band: Daddy-Doo Band.  It also has a compilation record living in complete obscurity: “Daddy-Done: 2003-2009.”  Who knows, maybe I’ll try  one day to find a promoter for this one too.   As for JustFolk, this is the end of a wonderful ride.  The last stop.   I am so grateful to all who have worked with me, especially to Steven Gores who always encouraged me.  Steven did it all.

The core of the song lies in the industrial guitars that sound more like inharmonic machine noises than what you would think of as a melodic riff. It’s a big, fat sound stomping relentlessly like a ceaseless discharge of fire from a broken machine struggling to hold on to what “life” it has. The intensity of the cacophony of sound only increases as the vocals unravel into an inhuman shriek, accompanying the song’s narrative as it unfolds, ending in pure horror.

GLDN has earned a reputation for uncompromising live performances, including the final headline set at the legendary Saint Vitus Bar before its closure. ReGen Magazine has called the project “the new wave of Brooklyn industrial metal,” while Aural Aggression described the sound as “unswervingly brutal and harsh.” For a band undergoing a complete visual and sonic overhaul, “Vessel” shows they’re serious about the upgrade.

“GRIST” is the second in a new series of 30 song double albums, following up “IN ALL MY NIGHTMARES I AM ALONE”, which was itself just released on June 30th. Fans of Swans, 90’s and ‘blackstar’-era David Bowie, Sonic Youth, Skinny Puppy, Ministry, Nick Cave, Portishead, Chelsea Wolfe, The Stooges, Faith No More, Tom Waits and PJ Harvey should enjoy this strange yet cohesive collection. 

“GRIST”  hunts, laughs, mourns, challenges and inspires others to step into their true selves without fear. The themes are wide but related, with philosophy, mental illness, death of loved ones, addiction, spirituality, surrealism and dream language all playing strong roles. With themes like rallying baby bees for the swarm, the artist positions himself as the Queen, ready to move through chaos, come what may.

“Ram Dass famously stated that all life experience, trauma, transcendence, joy, suffering, is all just “grist for the mill of awakening”. That being said, here is the GRIST.”

GRIST stands as a beat-heavy, noise heavy riot crackling through the heart of the city, while also a testament to life, survival from nothing, a celebration, and statement for those abused or undermined, yet who posess an inner power that none can reach.

“This is a pure offering to my baby bees, my ones who know code red, my cubs who climb the mount, my bears who hold their post, my hyenas who crawl under dark of dark. This is for you, who face the weaponry, the cheap bravado, the false while grinding your teeth. Sharpening. This is GRIST. What we are is GRIST. OMEN.“

Made up of main songwriter Todd Kolod (guitar, vocals), Manolo Diaz (electric guitar), and Steven Gores (keyboard), JustFolk have released 4 full-length albums. The songs featured on “The Best of JustFolk 2012-2025” were recorded in Ibiza, Spain and Helena, Montana.

“JustFolk is a studio band that I formed in 2012 in Saint Paul, Minnesota. I wrote the music and lyrics and sang unpolished lead vocals often with a John Lennon-esque double track boost. The songs are about love, life and death. I am the only amateur. The rest of the band is made up of professionals. Thank God!  We published 4 albums and several singles for 13 years. Our previous album “Grounded” is a hopeful concept album about death and dying. Though the band has now officially retired, I was proud of what we had accomplished.  In 2015 I moved to Ibiza, Spain. We continued to record with musicians in Minnesota and Montana. Sadly our music is known to only a few. The Best of JustFolk 2012-2025 is an opportunity to give the world a second chance. I cut my teeth on the Beatles and came of age with Neil Young.  As an adult I was inspired by Jeff Lynne’s production. These were my guides. I always searched for vocal and instrumental hooks. The more the merrier.”

From the first crack of guitar, “The Horizon” feels less like a single and more like a declaration. This is classic rock energy—not cosplay, not nostalgia tourism, but the kind of muscular, forward-leaning rock that treats adversity as something you meet head-on, not something you write sad songs about while waiting for it to pass. Angie and Chris McConnell sound like artists who’ve lived long enough to know storms don’t politely move aside. You move through them.

I have always loved artists who understand that survival is an act of defiance, and “The Horizon” lives squarely in that lineage. The verses open in uncertainty—looming storms, unanswered questions—but the song never lingers there. It’s already bracing for impact, already squaring its shoulders. When the chorus hits, it doesn’t ask permission. “I’ll take it head on; that’s my way” isn’t just a lyric—it’s a worldview, shouted into the wind with clenched teeth and steady footing.

Sonically, this is Eleyet McConnell at their most confident. The guitars are bold and purposeful, driving the song forward without unnecessary flash. The rhythm section doesn’t wander—it marches. Production-wise, everything serves the spine of the song. There’s no gloss trying to soften the edges, no overthinking the moment. This is rock music doing what it’s supposed to do: give you somewhere to stand when the ground feels unsteady.

What elevates “The Horizon” beyond a solid rock anthem is its emotional intelligence. The bridge—“Burnin’ daylight ain’t wasting no more time / I’ll break the chains, unlock the doors”—isn’t about rage, it’s about decision. That’s the difference between anger and empowerment, and Eleyet McConnell know exactly where that line lives. This isn’t rebellion for rebellion’s sake; it’s clarity earned the hard way.

Coming off a period of well-deserved industry recognition, “The Horizon” feels like the sound of a band trusting its instincts more than its comfort zone. It honors the classic rock spirit without being trapped by it, using volume and velocity as tools for storytelling rather than distractions from it.

In the end, “The Horizon” doesn’t promise easy answers. It promises motion. And sometimes, that’s the most honest thing a song can give you—eyes forward, guitars up, and no intention of backing down.

–Lonnie Nabors

Made up of main songwriter Todd Kolod (guitar, vocals), Manolo Diaz (electric guitar), and Steven Gores (keyboard), JustFolk have released 4 full-length albums. The songs featured on “The Best of JustFolk 2012-2025” were recorded in Ibiza, Spain and Helena, Montana.

“JustFolk is a studio band that I formed in 2012 in Saint Paul, Minnesota. I wrote the music and lyrics and sang unpolished lead vocals often with a John Lennon-esque double track boost. The songs are about love, life and death. I am the only amateur. The rest of the band is made up of professionals. Thank God!  We published 4 albums and several singles for 13 years. Our previous album “Grounded” is a hopeful concept album about death and dying. Though the band has now officially retired, I was proud of what we had accomplished.  In 2015 I moved to Ibiza, Spain. We continued to record with musicians in Minnesota and Montana. Sadly our music is known to only a few. The Best of JustFolk 2012-2025 is an opportunity to give the world a second chance. I cut my teeth on the Beatles and came of age with Neil Young.  As an adult I was inspired by Jeff Lynne’s production. These were my guides. I always searched for vocal and instrumental hooks. The more the merrier.”

 

In Camera Obscura, this unity is palpable. The trempette strides into the mix with a crisp brilliance that effortlessly slices through the heavy, almost metallic guitar riffs, as if declaring itself the compass of the entire record. Glittering chimes fracture around the edges, giving the music a cinematic depth, and the electric guitar solo arrives not as a contrast but as an extension of the same emotional space. When the trempette returns with a virtuosic solo, it feels like a statement of intent: technical command, yes, but also a sharp sense of narrative direction. The band sets the tone here, proving that even in dense textures, clarity can reign.

That clarity continues in BVFP, though the mood shifts entirely. A drum-forward opening tumbles unexpectedly into a breezy, beach-tinged groove, effortlessly light yet rhythmically grounded. The trempette floats through the melody with ease, reshaping it through different scale degrees as if turning a familiar phrase inside out. What’s striking is how the groove relaxes without losing precision; the band plays with freedom, but the identity remains intact, cohesive, unshaken.

Their re-imagining of Coltrane’s Naima reveals their emotional intelligence. The track widens the atmosphere, taking the original’s suspended hush and blending it with the album’s textures: chimes, understated drums, guitar bends that ripple like softened glass. It shifts the piece from solitary contemplation to a shared, collective breath. The trempette solo is tender but confident, elevating the emotional warmth of the composition and giving the ending a luminous glow that dissolves into fading chimes. It is homage and reinvention at once: respectful, yet unmistakably theirs.

Then comes Man in the Box, where the album bares its teeth. Here the trempette becomes something entirely different: edgy, defiant, almost insurgent, pushing back against the heavy rock instrumentation that surrounds it. The reinterpretation holds onto the tension of the original, not through mimicry but through psychological fidelity. The rhythmic tightness gives the track a coiled power, and the trempette’s refusal to “stay in the box” becomes the narrative conflict. It’s a musical struggle rendered with such focus that even the intensity feels controlled rather than chaotic.

Cactus offers a complete shift in scenery while maintaining the band’s unmistakable cohesion. The opening snare flicks like the sting of cactus thorns, mirrored by the trempette’s staccato – tenuto phrasing. There is Americana warmth here, a dusty glow under the subtle textures, yet the track never dulls its edges. The trempette plays with mischievous sharpness, emerging like a playful antagonist before the ending slips away unexpectedly, as though the cactus simply pulled back into itself.

In Lullaby for Zoey, the band leans into spaciousness: soft, dreamlike expanses where wide rhythms drift like slow-moving clouds. The trempette shapes emotion through delicate dynamics rather than virtuosic leaps, giving the piece an intimate glow. It rises toward the end, figuratively and literally, as if offering a final, gentle ascent before letting the dream settle.

Kasbah Knights jolts the album awake again: fiery, overdriven, charged with hints of Middle Eastern color. The trempette and guitar converse like two seasoned warriors sparring with mutual respect. Their interplay builds momentum and tension until a sudden moment of quiet enters: light percussion, a subdued breath before the final burst. The track feels like a cinematic chase, an adventure rendered with precision and narrative flair.

Their take on Riders on the Storm keeps the mysteries of the original but strips away excess. Clean, simple guitar lines drift under a quiet rhythmic pulse, allowing the trempette to glide through the melody with gentle restraint. Nothing is overworked; the band trusts the atmosphere enough to leave space, letting the calm breathe.

When In a Silent Way begins, a serene wave of sound unfurls: vast, sustained, meditative. The shift into the more upbeat passage feels like motion after stillness, brightening the sonic horizon before returning once more to introspective calm. The piece honors Miles Davis while interpreting the concept through the band’s own language: wide, luminous, and grounded in their distinct palette.

Finally, Tall Shoes Mary closes the album with its only lyrical moment. Americana warmth blends with rock guitar textures and jazz-tinged trempette lines, while the vocals, supported by soft, beautifully layered backing paint scenes of wandering cities, near-misses, fog, infidelity, unburned bridges, countless lifetimes, want, timing, and longing without collapse. The lyrics drift between clarity and fragmentation, like memories revisited in flashes, and the song wraps the album in storytelling that feels lived-in, tender, and real.

Across these ten tracks, the through-line is unmistakable: a sonic identity crafted with confidence, depth, and unmistakable mastery. No matter how far the album travels: across genres, reinterpretations, moods, or emotional terrains, it always returns to itself. And that is the brilliance of Baron von FrankenPaul: a sound so coherent, so intentional, that transformation becomes a form of continuity. This is not just fusion. It is authorship. It is a musical voice speaking ten different dialects with the same unmistakable tongue..