JESSE DANIEL, SON OF THE SAN LORENZO

When Jesse Daniel talks about Son of the San Lorenzo, there’s a quiet certainty in his voice. He produced the record himself, wrote and arranged each track with intention, and mapped out the arc like a story, starting with “Child Is Born” and ending with “The End.” It’s not just his fifth album. It’s a pivot point.

The title track first appeared back in 2020 on Rollin’ On, but this time around, it hits differently, slower, more reflective, and more rooted in identity. “A lot of people started calling me the ‘Son of the San Lorenzo,’” he says. “It stuck, and it gave me a sense of pride.” The nickname became the album’s title and, in many ways, its statement of purpose. This was the story he needed to tell before he could move forward.

Daniel's story runs deep. He's been clean since 2017, after years of addiction, jail, and recovery. Songs like “Crankster” and “One’s Too Many (And A Thousand Ain’t Enough)” speak plainly about that history. “He” takes a more reflective turn, written as a message to his younger self, built from the kind of hard-won advice he once got in recovery. “It helps me,” he says, “but I’m also trying to help other people.” Then there’s “Jodi,” a simple love song for his partner and longtime collaborator, Jodi Lyford. It covers a lot, addiction, loss, near-death experiences, but says it plainly. “It wasn’t easy to write,” he admits, “but it needed to be written.”

Sonically, the record pulls from the sounds that shaped him early on. “These are the deepest, most personal songs I’ve ever written,” Daniel says. “I wanted to get back to my roots, and a lot of the things I grew up on were country rock, classic rock, Southern rock, and a lot of country- and folk-influenced things.” The Byrds, the Eagles, the Flying Burrito Brothers, Led Zeppelin, the Allman Brothers, the Stones, they’re all in there. It all feeds into the way this record feels, less polished, more direct, more him.

At 32, Daniel is focused on telling his story in an open, honest way. Son of the San Lorenzo balances lived experience with bigger questions, how to use time well, how to keep creating, how to move forward without forgetting where you’re from. It’s personal, grounded, and sharp in its storytelling, a record about place, recovery, and clarity. It’s a story he needed to tell and was ready to tell it. And it couldn’t have been told better.

LITTLE SIMZ, LOTUS

From her early mixtapes and teenage freestyles to the Mercury-winning Sometimes I Might Be Introvert, Little Simz has always carved her own path. She avoided trends, favored complexity over simplicity, and stayed true to her voice. But at 31, the North London artist hit a wall. The spark that once drove her had faded, and for the first time, she questioned whether she had anything left to say. Self-doubt crept in, quietly and gradually, and left her uncertain. 

That loss of momentum was tied to the breakdown of her relationship with longtime producer and childhood friend Inflo. What had once been a close, creative partnership turned into silence, and eventually, legal conflict. The damage wasn’t just professional. It was personal, and it left Simz shaken. 

Still, she returned to the one place that had always made sense to her, the studio 

Simz’s sound has always blended blended elements of nu-soul, orchestral jazz, and alternative hip-hop. On Lotus, her sixth album, that foundation remains, but her voice feels sharper, more open, and more vulnerable. This record didn’t come from confidence. It came from fracture. 

“This album is the most exposed I’ve ever felt,” she said. “Literally, here’s my diary.” Unlike earlier records that carried a sense of control, Lotus feels like release. The songs don’t cover the wounds, they show them. But there’s strength in that. She may have been hurt, but she isn’t hiding. The album leans into contrast and contradiction, and in that space, something honest takes shape. 

Named after the flower that grows in muddy waters, Lotus is an album about rebirth. Its strength lies not just in its candor or rage, but in Simz’s quiet decision to stay, to create, and to grow through loss. It’s a risk born of hope, and what she offers now isn’t just personal. It’s powerful. 

FLORRY, SOUNDS LIKE...

“People naturally search for patterns in their lives and want some kinda reward of knowledge from the things that happen to them, when a lot of the time good or bad stuff happens to people for no reason at all.” 

Francie Medosch, the heart of Florry, the Philly-rooted, Vermont-based band, is drawn to the ragged edges of life. On the band’s new album Sounds Like…, her songs center on characters “groping” toward clarity, borrowing a phrase Alex Chilton once used to describe Big Star’s Third. These are people caught mid-transformation, flickering between hope and disillusionment, trying to make sense of love, identity, history, and tragedy. “It’s unclear whether these things are distractions or actually significant,” Medosch admits. “That slight anxiety is with all of us.”

Ultimately, she wants her songs to feel like real lives: inconsistent, haunted by small decisions, and defiantly messy.

Musically, Florry isn’t chasing nostalgia or imitation, but their influences are worn proudly. Echoes of The Rolling Stones, Neil Young, and The Band surface in the looseness and grit of their playing. There’s movement, energy, and, as Medosch puts it, “dirt under the fingernails.” It’s a sound that mirrors the emotional volatility in her lyrics, songs that swing, stumble, and eventually find their footing.

Together, the band’s music and lyrics are neither neat nor tidy, and that’s entirely the point. Sounds Like… captures something raw and unfiltered, an authenticity that makes it feel more honest than polished.

THE LOFT, EVERYTHING CHANGES EVERYTHING STAYS THE SAME

In the summer of ’85, things were looking up for Peter Astor (vocals, guitar), Bill Prince (bass), Andy Strickland (guitar), and Dave Morgan (drums). Fresh off a record deal, riding a wave of critical praise for a string of standout singles, and poised for a breakthrough debut, their band The Loft seemed destined for success, until it all unraveled in a dramatic onstage implosion witnessed by 3,000 people. Forty years later, that long-delayed debut has finally arrived.

Following brief reunions in 2006 and 2015, the original lineup came back together in 2022 with a sense of unfinished business. Recorded in just five days in 2024 with producer Sean Read (Dexy’s Midnight Runners), Everything Changes Everything Stays the Same was purposefully left raw and guitar-driven.

“One of the things we did with Sean was we left him, completely, to mix it and edit it. We purposely exited the studio for that week. But Andy and I did keep saying to him, ‘Don’t forget, this is a guitar record.’” -Peter Astor-

The surprising thing is how youthful it all sounds, tight, wiry, full of momentum. You could easily mistake it for the work of a band in their twenties. But listen closely, and the lyrics tell a different story, one of time, age, and perspective. “You start to become very aware of time when you get to a certain age, don’t you?” Astor reflects. Now years on, The Loft deliver an exceptional album that looks forward as much as it looks back, rooted in the past, but definitely alive in the present.

HOTWAX, HOT SHOCK

HotWax’s rise from school friends in Hastings to one of the UK’s most talked-about new rock bands is a story fueled by urgency, camaraderie, and discovery. Formed in 2019, vocalist-guitarist Tallulah Sim-Savage, bassist Lola Sam, and drummer Alfie Sayers have built their reputation on instinct, relentless touring, and a creative drive shaped by what excites them. Their debut album Hot Shock channels that momentum, a ten track burst shaped by the spirit of their live shows and a shared desire to push further.

The album began to take shape after producer Catherine Marks caught their set and proposed capturing that sweat-soaked energy on record. The band embraced the approach, recording in sessions that favored spontaneity and experimentation. They describe their sound as a fusion of 1990s grunge and psychedelic rock, drawing influence from artists like Beck, Yeah Yeah Yeahs, and PJ Harvey, a mix that comes through clearly on Hot Shock. The album blends gritty textures with melodic turns, landing on a sound that feels feels deliberately unpolished and purposeful. It’s a debut that made turning up the volume feel like the only right move.

LISA KNAPP & GERRY DIVER, HINTERLAND

South London native Lisa Knapp is a folk singer, songwriter, and multi-instrumentalist best known for her expressive fiddle playing and inventive approach to traditional music. Her partner in life and music, Gerry Diver, is a composer, producer, and fellow multi-instrumentalist celebrated for his boundary-pushing work in contemporary folk. Though long-time collaborators, Hinterland marks the first time they have written and recorded an album together, a union that delivers something truly remarkable. 

 Rooted in folk traditions but unafraid to experiment, Hinterland blends old ballads, original songs, and immersive instrumentals. The lead single, “Hawk & Crow,” sets the tone with eerie harmonies and natural percussion, offering a portal into a sonic world where the natural and supernatural intertwine. Across nine tracks, the album explores themes of nature, folklore, and the mysterious spaces between, crafting a soundscape that feels both traditional and daringly modern. It’s a captivating album, one that deepens with each listen, as Knapp and Diver move further into more evocative terrain and less familiar corners of the folk tradition.