Following the darker atmosphere of Such a Burden, Move takes a strikingly different direction. Where its predecessor explored self-doubt and emotional weight, this release leans into light, momentum, and optimism. Yet beneath its bright synth lines and danceable rhythm lies a more personal narrative shaped by heartbreak, healing, and self-reinvention.

The song moves comfortably between indie rock, funk, disco, alternative pop, and unmistakable 80s influences. Sequenced synth textures give the arrangement its nostalgic pulse, while the playful vocal layers add character and warmth. The intentionally “workout-song” aesthetic becomes one of the track’s greatest strengths, creating a listening experience that feels energetic without losing emotional sincerity.

One of the most refreshing aspects of Move is its refusal to fit neatly into expectations. BADSQUATCH approaches genre with freedom, allowing the song to exist somewhere between retro celebration and personal reflection. That willingness to take risks gives the track its individuality and keeps it engaging from beginning to end.

Recorded at Topetitud Estudios in Mexico City as part of a larger fourteen-track project exploring mental health, self-love, shadow work, and growth, Move offers an early glimpse into an album that seems determined to remain unpredictable.

With Move, BADSQUATCH transforms nostalgia into something more meaningful. The result is a track that celebrates motion, embraces change, and reminds listeners that sometimes healing arrives not through stillness, but through movement itself!

“This song is highly ambiguous and has many potential meanings,” Thomas says. “For me it’s about the post-truth nature of our current existence, and looking for answers in the chaos. Could the answers we seek be you and I?”

⇒ Check out our review for “The Answers” here.

That question sits at the heart of “The Answers” — and resists easy resolution, as the best questions do. The track draws from the oblique, searching quality that defines Beyond Signal’s songwriting: music that does not hand the listener a conclusion but instead opens a space for them to find their own. In a media landscape saturated with noise and competing certainties, it is a song about the particular disorientation of a world where truth itself has become unstable — and the possibility, however fragile, that human connection might be the only honest anchor left.

The fact that Thomas produced the track entirely himself adds another layer of meaning to the release. A lone-wolf by nature and by creative philosophy, he has always been drawn to the idea of complete creative ownership — music made without compromise, without filters, without the need to fit anyone else’s framework.

“I am a lone-wolf in search of existential authenticity and transcendental creativity in my work,” he says. “Music is the most important thing in my life.”

Beyond Signal is more than a project — it is a creative mission. Thomas has coined his own genre, TIM — Transcendental Indie Music — to describe music that reaches beyond received ideas and pre-packaged emotion toward something more individual, more honest, and more hard-won. Influenced by a lifetime of ardent listening across post-punk, indie rock, electronica, and classic rock, his sound draws from artists including Joy Division, Radiohead, The National, PJ Harvey, Leonard Cohen, Nirvana, and Molchat Doma — but belongs, ultimately, to none of them.

His debut album Gaia Algorithmica — recorded at what was formerly Tesla Studios in Sheffield with a professional audio engineer — established Beyond Signal as an artist of genuine depth and ambition, exploring themes of dysfunctional relationships, artificial intelligence, and the quest for spiritual enlightenment. Peer feedback from fellow Sheffield singer-songwriter Charlie King captured something important after a live performance at Hagglers Corner Open Mic: “What stood out to me most was the raw honesty and bravery in his lyrical content. I can tell Tom takes great care with his lyrical meaning behind his songs.”

Live, Thomas has performed at the Penryn Campus Open Mic at Falmouth University and across Sheffield’s open mic circuit, steadily growing in confidence and stage presence. He also played bass for The Pink House — the precursor to the band Heart Worms — before stepping fully into his solo vision.

“The Answers” arrives as the next chapter in that vision: more self-sufficient, more fully formed, and more willing to sit with the questions life refuses to answer cleanly.

“Very proud,” Thomas says simply of the track. It is hard to argue with that.

Musically, the track has a texture that vaguely overlaps with those Russian doomer songs – Molchat Doma is clearly an influence, and you can hear it in the cold, droning atmosphere and the detached vocal delivery. The artist says the song has many potential meanings and that ambiguity is baked into the production: it feels more like a mood than a narrative. The music video is clearly an amateur production, but it has a charm to it and complements the song rather than distracting from it, which is all you can really ask of a self-produced visual from an independent artist at this stage.

Thomas has about seventy songs in the back catalogue he’s working through, so Gaia Algorithmica is very much a starting point rather than a full picture. “The Answers” suggests he’s picking up the pace and steadily figuring out his own identity as a musical and visual artist.

Clark wrote every song, every lyric, and every note himself — as he always does. His process is unhurried and uncompromising. Like a painter who won’t show a canvas until it is finished, Clark refuses to release a song until he is as satisfied with it as he can possibly be. What results is music that carries the weight of that commitment in every bar.

“Me My Blood And I“ arrived not from a deliberate search but from a feeling — sparked, Clark believes, by the electricity of a major football tournament and a lifetime of never giving up. A passionate footballer who played for his school teams and represented the West of Kent side at fourteen, Clark knows firsthand what it means to want something so badly it becomes the engine of everything. That spirit — determination, resilience, the refusal to be outworked — is the heartbeat of the single, and it arrives at precisely the right moment with the FIFA World Cup on the horizon.

⇒ Don’t miss reading our review here.

The four songs that make up Me My Blood And I each occupy their own distinct emotional territory, and together they form a collection of unusual range.

The title track leads with its message of drive and determination — a song built for anyone who has ever refused to be counted out.

“I Want It More Than You“ carries perhaps the most significant real-world impact of anything Clark has released. The track — an empowering anthem for children against self-harming and bullying — has been placed into every school in Croydon and Surrey by the Croydon Education Department, and has been accepted by Leethan Bartholomew of the National FGM Centre in recognition of its direct, compassionate address of the subject. Clark has long believed in the power of lyrics to reach young people in ways that conventional education cannot: to pick them up, restore their confidence, and give them back a sense of worth and possibility. This song does exactly that.

“Congas” shifts the mood entirely — a joyful, danceable track about the anticipation of holiday, the fun and sun that awaits, and the happy return home, complete with what Clark himself describes as a “Parrot Dance.”

“My Birthday Song” rounds out the EP with a celebration of the one day a year that belongs to everyone — the day each of us was born.

The EP was recorded and produced at Garage Studios by Martin Smith, the celebrated ELO musician who brought his considerable experience and musicianship directly into the sessions alongside Clark. The two played together on the tracks — a hands-on, collaborative process that lent the recordings an energy and authenticity that studio polish alone could never manufacture. Clark, as always, had a clear vision of what each song needed to be before a single note was laid down.

Looking ahead, Clark’s next project is the creation of a duets album with a female vocalist — a collaboration he is actively developing and looking forward to bringing to listeners.

Musically, “In A Mine” is very cinematic and atmosphere-forward, with sound effects of mining and a dramatic organ leading the rhythm section into a very 70s prog rock sound. The organ creates a distinct ominous quality that works perfectly with the narrative told by the lyrics, which paint a picture of being stuck as a cog in the machine – a worker in a mine, simply doomed to be a worker bee and never tasting the honey for yourself.

There is a second recorded track still to come, which means one more chance to hear what Geoff Middleton brought to this band before his passing. That’s a strange kind of anticipation to sit with – knowing something exists, knowing it was made by someone who is no longer around to see it land. “In A Mine” carries that weight without being crushed by it, which is probably the best thing you can say about a tribute record. Spiral Orbit have spent years doing covers, learning how to serve a song, and that discipline shows here. They know when to let the atmosphere do the work and when to push. Based on this track, the second release is worth waiting for.

Dave is deeply committed to preserving the classic and timeless sound of vintage rock music. Creating and performing this genre is a joyful form of art that should be cherished in today’s evolving world. The enthusiasm and happiness for this genre, often considered the foundation of music, is something Dave exudes in conversation and most definitely in his music.

Following the momentum of his previous release, Lebental steps further into richly melodic territory, drawing subtle inspiration from writers like The Beatles, Elton John, Supertramp, and Elvis Costello, yet never sounding like a tribute act. Instead, he captures what made those artists timeless in the first place: strong songwriting, emotional clarity, and melodies that refuse to let go.

From the very first track, you can hear that Stylus was made by a band, not assembled by a grid. Karma Train sounds locked in: attentive, responsive, breathing together. The opener “Addition By Subtraction” bursts forward with bluesy swagger and a groove that feels both gritty and liberating. It’s a song about walking away from what drains you, and there’s something powerful in how directly it states its case. When Lebental delivers the line about never coming back, the music doesn’t hesitate, it runs with him. The guitar solo doesn’t just decorate the song; it pushes the emotion further, as if freedom itself needed an amplifier.

“Changing The Way I Feel” immediately shifts the palette. The piano work is intricate and expressive, carrying a melody that twists in unexpected ways without losing its footing. Lyrically, the song circles around creative frustration and breakthrough, that stubborn space where inspiration refuses to arrive. Ironically, the track overflows with ideas. It feels like the sound of an artist rediscovering the spark and refusing to let it slip away again.

One of the album’s most tender moments arrives with “Hopium.” Beginning with just piano and voice, the song opens slowly, allowing vulnerability to take the lead. When the band enters, it does so gently, expanding the emotional space rather than overpowering it. There’s a quiet ache here, not dramatic, not exaggerated, just honest. Lebental’s higher register adds a softness that suits the arrangement beautifully.

“I Can Always Count On You” brings a darker shade into the mix. The organ hums underneath like a warning, the chord progression slightly uneasy, and the hook lands with sharp precision. It’s the kind of song that feels cathartic to sing along to, especially if you’ve ever known someone whose only consistency was disappointment. There’s wit in the writing, but also bite. It’s reflective without being sentimental.

What makes Stylus resonate most is its sense of perspective. These songs don’t feel like youthful declarations; they feel earned. The closing track, “You Figure It Out,” carries a relaxed rhythmic pulse and a sense of gentle wisdom. The bass line sits confidently in the mix, and the vocal delivery feels warm, almost conversational. When Lebental sings about figuring life out little by little, it doesn’t sound like advice, it sounds like experience.

The album’s title is quietly perfect. A stylus is both the needle that brings vinyl to life and a writing instrument. That dual meaning mirrors the record itself: songs shaped by hand, then set spinning into the world. There’s intention behind every arrangement, every melodic turn, every lyrical line.

In a time when much of modern rock feels polished to the point of detachment, Dave Lebental chooses something bravery, sincerity. He isn’t chasing trends, and he isn’t pretending to be twenty-five. He’s creating from conviction, with a seasoned band and a clear love for the craft. That authenticity radiates through every track.

Dave Lebental’s Stylus is not nostalgic for nostalgia’s sake. It doesn’t try to recreate the past,  it carries its spirit forward. It reminds us why piano-driven rock mattered, why strong melodies endure, and why songs written with heart still connect across generations.

This is classic rock with pulse. With reflection. With purpose. A love letter, yes, but one written for now and tomorrow.

Drawing from the cosmic explorations of Pink Floyd, the atmospheric sophistication of Porcupine Tree, and the psychedelic innovation of Tame Impala, Hallucinophonics crafts immersive soundscapes that challenge boundaries between reality and reverie. The band’s name encapsulates its mission: the precise articulation of hallucinogenic experiences through sound, weaving ethereal textures, progressive architectures, and hypnotic rhythms to explore themes of consciousness evolution and existential discovery.

⇒ Read our full review here.

The original “Afternoon of Acid Rain,” released in February 2026 as a digital single, is a surreal psychedelic rock journey pulsing at 115 BPM in A Minor. It unfolds like a fever dream, featuring absurdist characters such as candy corn girls, crocodile women with jellyfish hearts, avalanche people with glassy-eyed stares, and a seven-foot chicken wielding a six-foot guitar. Built on electric and acoustic guitars, bass, and percussion, the track delivers male vocals with deadpan conviction, evolving from dark hallucinatory imagery to a warm, welcoming resolution. The recurring challenge—”Who in the hell do you think you are?”—serves as both confrontation and invitation, emphasizing themes of surreal transformation, identity dissolution, surrender to the absurd, and universal belonging.

The Spatial/3D Edition elevates this experience with Syd Barrett-inspired fuzz textures in the sound and stereoscopic conversion for Z-axis depth, creating an audiovisual portal where users can navigate the song’s dreamlike narrative in three dimensions. “We’ve utilized stereoscopic depth mapping to transform the 1967-inspired surrealist animation into a multi-layered immersive environment,” states Hallucinophonics. “We think the bridge between ‘Vintage Psych-Rock’ and ‘2026 Spatial Tech’ is a fantastic hook, allowing listeners to ‘step inside’ the hallucinogenic world of the animation.”

Accompanied by a fully animated music video on Vevo that brings the track’s vivid characters to life, the original single is available on all major streaming platforms, with high-quality digital downloads offered. The Spatial/3D Edition is accessible via Vimeo.

Hallucinophonics‘ music occupies the sacred territory where the cerebral meets the celestial, representing a bold new chapter in psychedelic music. For fans of Pink Floyd, Tame Impala, The Flaming Lips, King Gizzard & The Lizard Wizard, Syd Barrett, MGMT, Beck, Porcupine Tree, Of Montreal, Ween, The Beatles (psychedelic era), Temples, Pond, Ty Segall, and Mild High Club.

Sounding like a perfect representation of what really early Pink Floyd would have sounded like if they were formed now, Hallucinophonics are being masterful with their world and atmosphere building and dynamics on this new single, resulting in a sound that’s gripping and exciting, while restrained and mature, supported by a gorgeous piece of songwriting and a capable set of lively, visceral instrumental and vocal performances.

‘Afternoon of Acid Rain’ is a song that sounds alive. With its non-linear structure and adventurous chord choices that inject the song with vivid snapshots of color, yet never stray too far from the main domain of the song, the song is superbly written. The instrumental palette on ‘Afternoon of Acid Rain’ is just as fascinating. The muffled drums keep an airy but ever-present backbeat with the buoyant bass, the clean guitars play some beautifully subdued parts that sound retrograde in their perceived minimalism, and the chorus-dipped group vocals are the cherry on top of this very deliberate psychedelic cake.

Hallucinophonics’ latest cut ‘Afternoon of Acid Rain’ showcases a group experiencing a confident grasp on their sound and craft, resulting in a cohesive single that easily stands out.

The second I heard that intro riff on “It Ain’t Perfect But It’s Free”, I knew I was in for a good time. You just immediately recognise that element of great musicianship from every contributor on this record. The drum groove here is killer as always, courtesy of Steve Ferrone. The song, aside from its polished funk-rock groove, lyrically conveys an anti-authoritarian message, which is at the heart of rock and roll. 

Even though 7 songs is a relatively low number of songs on the album, Pennan Brae manages to create a diverse vista of songs as we move to the second song, “Girl In The City”, pulling from his country rock influences. While “Take Me Back” is more reminiscent of that 80s pop rock sound à la Bryan Adams. 

“Slide” has more of a classic rock sound with great tom grooves for the verse, and Pennan Brae playing some fun organ parts. It carries that Rolling Stones influence with pride. “Say That You Will But You Won’t” takes us back to that ’80s sound with more focus on melodicism. The record is like a tour of rock styles played authentically by musicians that aren’t playing it performatively; there is genuine passion here enough for an entire population. The concrete proof of that is the second half of this song, where we see the violin played by Cameron Wilson and soulful harmony vocals carry us with endless momentum supported by the drums to the finish line. 

“Do What You Do” is my personal favourite song on the record. The energy here is palpable, it’s addictive and drives forward nonstop. It’s a perfect blues-rock song. The organ and vocal melody, and guitar riffs, along with the rhythm section, create a force with unstoppable momentum that is more than the sum of its parts. 

We close with what feels like a continuation of the first song, with a funky groove “Synergy (With Horns)” as the title implies features the horn trio of Jocelyn Waugh, Kaylar Chan, and Nebyu Yohannes, and they deliver a beautiful fanfare of smooth harmony in the chorus, and help accent the groove in the verses. Speaking of the verse, the syncopated groove that everyone participates in for the verses is executed immaculately. If I had to describe the record in one phrase, it would be “Groove city”.

Pennan Brae‘s been recording at Blue Light Studio for 15 years, and that familiarity shows in the finished product. This is his best work so far, according to him, and it’s hard to argue. Having Ferrone anchor the entire thing gives it a cohesion that ties the stylistic shifts together. For a 7-song record, it covers a lot of ground without losing focus. It doesn’t reinvent the wheel of rock and roll but delivers authentic powerful groove based songs that should be on the playlist of all rockers.