PINCHIKO, GINKGO

Panchiko’s story reads like a plot from a movie, so unlikely it almost feels fictional. Four teens from Nottingham form a band in the late '90's, record a lo-fi demo, play only a handful of local gigs to mostly empty rooms, and then dissolve and fade into obscurity until that demo cassette resurfaces online in 20216. With no information attached, the warped, lo-fi sound piqued curiosity and eventually inspired a global online effort to track down the band.

By the time the members were located, now in their forties with day jobs in teaching and music mastering, their music had become an underground cult sensation. Teenagers were getting tattoos of the tape’s artwork, and Panchiko suddenly had a new and passionate fanbase, mostly in the U.S. Reuniting in 2021, the band began playing shows to sold-out audiences and, after two decades apart, faced the challenge of making new music that honored their lo-fi origins while reflecting who they are now.

In 2023, they released their debut album, Failed at Math(s), to great fanfare. It successfully retained the warped charm of their early work while embracing more refined production, and with it, love for the band only grew....As of January 2025, Panchiko has amassed 200 million listens on Spotify and draws 1.45 million monthly followers! Despite their unconventional reentry into music, the band approaches their second life with humility and humor, fully aware of the surreal odds that brought them back together.

With Ginkgo, Panchiko step fully into the present without losing sight of the beautifully warped past that brought them here. Where Failed at Math(s) felt like the band reintroducing themselves, reconciling dusty demos with decades of distance, Ginkgo sounds like them settling in, making music with the clarity, confidence, and creative freedom that eluded them the first time around. It’s both a progression and a homecoming, steeped in their trademark wistfulness, but more expansive in scope, sharper in execution, and looser in spirit.

BROWN HORSE, ALL THE RIGHT WEAKNESSES

Brown Horse has played their fair share of English pubs over the years. Formed in 2018 as a folk quartet, the band got their start performing old-time standards, Michael Hurley covers, and original songs in pub corners across the country. Those early days carried a homespun charm, steeped in tradition but always nudging toward something more expansive.

By 2023, the band had grown into a six-piece ensemble and begun leaning into a sound that fused their folk and ‘70s country roots with the fuzzier edges of '90s alt-rock. The lineup shift brought a broader sound and more room to experiment, and it shows on their sophomore record, All The Right Weaknesses.

Where their 2024 debut Reservoir leaned into a more open and slow-burning sound, this follow-up feels looser and louder. The album delivers an energized blend of slacker-rock and folk, with banjo, accordion, and pedal steel guitar woven into arrangements that add a rich musical texture. It’s the sound of a band that’s spent serious time on the road, tightened by repetition, but still open enough to be playful in moments, giving their music an easy, lived-in vibe. 

DESTROYER, DAN'S BOOGIE

Thirty years into Destroyer, Dan Bejar is still writing, still singing, still figuring it out. There’s a kind of bemused clarity in how he talks about it now. “Usually people go up or go away,” he says. “It’s strange to be still in the trenches, but everyone you know is gone.” That sense of being somewhere in the middle, not a star, not a struggler, just enduring, runs through his fourteenth album. 

Bejar doesn’t glamorize his longevity. In a recent interview, he was frank about the industry’s obsession with youth and candid about the toll of continuing to operate in a space that often seems to have moved on. But he’s still drawn to the work itself, albeit slower now, and maybe a little less certain. “How I do it is so unconscious. I don’t know what I’m doing. Like, I really don’t.” 

That looseness has started to seep into the music in new ways. Where past Destroyer records often carried a stylized aloofness, Dan’s Boogie opens space for humor and unpredictability. He’d never have felt comfortable with that in the past, but now he embraces it, and it shows up in the album’s more madcap moments. 

“As you age, I guess you stop censoring yourself.” 

There’s a spontaneity to songs like “Hydroplaning Off the Edge of the World,” which Bejar essentially improvised in the studio, grabbing surreal lines from the air without knowing what might come next. Still, even amid the chaos, there’s a core to hold onto: that unmistakable voice. A voice Bejar once loathed, but now recognizes as foundational to who he is. “I probably identify myself as a singer more than anything else in the world,” he says. 

If Dan’s Boogie proves anything, it’s that Bejar is still deeply in it—not reinventing himself, but relaxing into the strange, singular role he’s carved out over decades. It’s just the right place and space to experience Bejar. He really is one of a kind and Dan’s Boogie is yet another fantastic album in a storied career.

MDOU MOCTAR, TEARS OF INJUSTICE

Guitarist and singer Mdou Moctar’s musical life took root in Abalak, a small town in central Niger, where he built his first guitar from bicycle cables and scrap wood. What started as solitary experimentation soon turned into a regional phenomenon with his early recordings being circulated across West Africa through Bluetooth swaps and SIM card trades, long before they ever reached a formal release. Over time, that homespun spirit grew louder, sharper, more defiant. By the time Ilana: The Creator dropped in 2019,Moctar’s project had expanded into a full-fledged band, blending searing electric guitar with calls for justice, liberation, and cultural pride. Though still rooted in Agadez, the group’s reach had grown global.

Their new album, Tears of Injustice catches the band in a moment of dislocation. Stranded in the U.S. after a military coup back home, they recorded the album in Brooklyn, untethered from the familiar but tethered still to a collective grief. These are acoustic reworkings of songs from 2024’s Funeral for Justice, but they don’t feel like translations—they feel like returns. Stripped of distortion, the songs find power in quiet resolve: hand drums pulse like slowed heartbeats, Moctar’s guitar playing winds and loops with the precision of ritual, and the vocals carry the ache of distance. There’s clarity here, not just in sound but in intent—a reclamation of space, memory, and identity. It’s an album made in exile, but tied to a place and people with unmistakable force.

GREENTEA PENG, TELL DEM IT'S SUNNY

Greentea Peng is the kind of artist that grabs my attention. Self-describing as a psychedelic R&B artist, her genre-fluid experimentation with neo-soul and alternative R&B and fusion of spiritual consciousness and street realism makes her stand apart from easy categorization. 

Tell Dem It’s Sunny, her third studio album, Peng, whose real name is Aria Wells, turns inward. Where 2021’s Man Made responded to lockdown with outward protest, this record reflects on motherhood, mental health, and a growing skepticism toward mainstream ideas of healing. Despite its title, the album leans grey in both tone and sound. The phrase “Tell Dem It’s Sunny” began as irony but became a reminder of inner light. Moving away from the flower-child image often attached to her, Peng focuses on what she calls “the politics of the personal”—emotional unrest, identity, and staying grounded in a chaotic world. 

Musically, the album follows Peng’s intuitive process. Dub, soul, and psych elements drift through the tracks, with songs like “TARDIS” emerging through what she describes as channelling. The sound is loose and unpolished, with a great groove that’s more concerned with feeling than perfection. 

Reflection on parenthood, inner conflict, and staying present in a restless world, Tell Dem It’s Sunny is full of hope. For Peng, hope isn’t a pose—it’s something practiced. And she practices it here with feeling and great strength.

CHARLEY CROCKETT, LONESOME DRIFTER

It’s hard to keep up with Charley Crockett. He’s a man constantly on the move, recording and touring with the kind of urgency that’s become a signature. That includes rejecting the traditional 18- to 24-month album cycle and instead releasing new music roughly every six months for nearly a decade.

Now, the Texas-born troubadour, long known for his fiercely independent approach, is entering a new chapter with the release of his 15th album, Lonesome Drifter. After years of self-releasing music through his own label, Crockett has signed with Universal Music Group’s Island Records, marking his first major label deal. In a message to fans, he wrote, “Some say time is money. I say time is a train, and I'm running alongside of it on the only highway.” It’s a poetic line that perfectly captures his forward motion and refusal to be fenced in.

Despite the shift to a major label, Crockett secured full creative control and ownership in the deal, ensuring the freedom he’s always prized remains intact. And like his previous recordings, he worked with a sense of urgency and momentum with The Lonesome Drifter, recording it in just 10 days in Los Angeles with producer Shooter Jennings.

Musically, Lonesome Drifter is classic Crockett: storytelling-rich, rooted in country, folk, and blues, and deeply reflective of everyday struggles. “Game I Can’t Win,” inspired by Woody Guthrie, critiques systemic inequity, while “Easy Money,” born from a poem he wrote while watching Midnight Cowboy, explores illusions of fast wealth. The album closes with a bold take on George Strait’s “Amarillo By Morning”—a song Crockett initially hesitated to touch, but ultimately embraced for its honesty and grit. “I’m not George Strait,” he said. “I’m not a rodeo guy. But ‘I’m not rich, but Lord, I’m free’—that’s how I live my life.”

Crockett’s story, from busking on the streets of New Orleans, California, and Paris to handing out homemade CDs, has always been rooted in hustle, instinct, and staying true to his vision. With Lonesome Drifter, he’s not slowing down. In fact, it’s just the beginning of a planned trilogy. The second installment is already complete, and the third is underway.

Charley Crockett may be running alongside time like it’s a train on the only highway, but make no mistake, he’s the one laying down the tracks.