This edition begins with screams and ends with forgiveness. In between: simmering hyperpop for a lost generation, a gothic folk ritual, and a deep bow before Springsteen. Five songs that travel from “this is not a song, it’s self-harm” to grace towards one another. It’s a long way to go in five tracks.
PISS – i wanted to be a singer
“I spent my life trying to turn my pain into something useful.” Dissonant, loud, violent. i wanted to be a singer by Vancouver’s PISS is the most unapologetically confrontational song you’ll hear in 2026. A blistering collision of hardcore and artcore, sealed off from melodic beauty, with only space for raw, horrendous intensity. Screams, only screams. “Listen to me, please! This is not a song, it’s self-harm.”
Lily Gasc – 30
Her flickering hyperpop simmers on low heat as darker vapours rise. Lausanne-based Lily Gasc’s 30 is the bittersweet soundtrack of a sleepless, disoriented generation searching for meaning. In the darkness, club beats pump in time with lost hearts. A song constantly oscillating between the breathless need to function and utter despair.
Dead Man’s Bones – Lost In The Night
I had no idea Ryan Gosling had a band on hiatus; I only learned that after choosing the track for Weekly5. After 17 years, Gosling and Zach Shields return with the single Lost In The Night. A creeping thing, yet at its core, a romantic song dressed in a haunting gothic folk composition: dark wave guitars, gospel-adjacent choirs, a steam-powered groove conjuring a faintly psych-ritualistic ambience.
Editors – Butterfly Wings
Gone are the flickering synthesisers and the exuberant anthems. The Editors pull back the curtain and strip down their sound on their new album, Surface, Echo & Sound. Beneath it all lies a dreamy acoustic sound that preserves the band’s healing, contemplative spirit. Butterfly Wings sounds like a deep bow to Springsteen: gently carried by guitar and drums, the voice floats in a composition that stretches into infinity.
Kathleen Frances – Kitchen Sink
Like the gently swaying sea. Like a river flowing in every direction. To Bristol’s Kathleen Frances, Kitchen Sink is “an exploration of the rhythm of moving apart and coming together.” Kitchen Sink is an achingly beautiful expression of forgiveness and grace towards one another, set to warm piano sounds, longing strings, and a daring organ.
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