Performed at Baby's All Right in Brooklyn NY
March 22, 2025
Nov 26, 2025
Nov 25, 2025
Haley Heynderickx & Max García Conover • Song For Alicia • 2025
My grandpa was a communist, they might've said a terrorist
And when someone looks at what I've done
I know songs won't seem like enough
Songs are for sure not nearly enough
So it's ride, Alicia, ride
Move, Alicia, move
I would be Boricua even if I was born on the moon
The two groups convicted of American sedition
Are the Proud Boys and the Puerto Ricans
We share a Wikipedia page
So what else can you say?
It's ticker tape accumulation, neoliberal sublimation
New precariat convinced that immigrants are corporations
Hold the phone, just be patient while we burn your poets' pages
While the doctor takes the medicine and tries to fuck the patients
Oh my God, they put her in a courtroom in Chicago
They bound her hands behind her back, put tape across her mouth
And when she screamed, the tape released, and she said what the world says
"You cannot own a country, you do not own a country"
And so two guards took her legs and held her to the floor
While another punched her in the face and gagged her like before
And she got fifty years and more
And they never said what for
ifitbeyourwill S06 E17 • Mirrorball
We get into how they write: Scott starts with grooves, guitars, and synths in Logic. Alex listens, and melodies spill out — sometimes all at once, sometimes over time. Some songs bloom in a day; others sit for months, waiting for the right mood to arrive. Recording, for them, is a kind of home — layering overdubs until the room disappears and only the song remains. Playing live, though, demands something different: less control, more trust. The goal isn’t to be louder, it’s to make people feel. Small choices, big emotion.
There’s honesty, too, about what it means to be an indie band now. Without a label, they’ve handled everything themselves — the videos, the press, the endless scroll — keeping things moving with a steady run of singles. Now they’re building toward a full LP, something that captures the whole arc of who they’ve become. With producer Chris Coady’s touch — tiny shifts in timing, arrangements that breathe — the songs pulse and shimmer instead of shout. At home, Alex tracks vocals dry, chasing raw takes; Scott trims the noise, staying closer to what feels real.
If you’re drawn to guitars that glow, vocals that drift just out of reach, and rhythms that dance a little behind the beat, this one’s for you. Press play, sink into Red Hot Dust, and stay awhile. If it hits, tell a friend — the dream gets brighter when more people are in it.
the bittersweet wonderment of “Red Hot Dust” signals a truly enchanting debut is on the way.
—grimy goods
Nov 22, 2025
Wormy • "27 Days” • 2025
Shark River finds Rauchwerk embracing vulnerability with a collection of songs that explore loneliness, heartbreak, and the comforting but ultimately doomed escapism of life on the road. His work as a touring drummer has offered him precious little stability, but plenty of time for reflection. Skillful production and backing vocals from his bandmates Conti and Samia drench the LP in a sepia-toned indie glow, complete with the occasional pedal steel, but Rauchwerk’s vocals betray his fondness for emo-leaning folk luminaries like Bright Eyes and the Mountain Goats. Sometimes, his singing feels more or less like melodic speaking, a friend telling you about a hard day over a couple of beers; other times, you can feel his panic as he shouts into the microphone.
Jeffrey Martin • Alive July 25, 2025
Portland, Oregon folk artist Jeffrey Martin has announced his first-ever live album, Alive July 25, 2025, which is set to release on February 20, 2026 via Fluff & Gravy Records. The album was recorded at Portland's The Showdown and presents an unabridged take of the night exactly as it unfolded — whatever mistakes may have occurred, whatever musical wanderings — in the hopes that the magic of the live show could be captured in an honest way.
Nov 20, 2025
ifitbeyourwill S06E16 • Tiberius
A clarinet in fourth grade doesn’t usually lead to fuzz pedals, pedal steel, and a packed tour van, but that’s the path Brendan Wright of Tiberius traces on Troubadour. We start with the spark—how a quiet kid found a home in melody—and follow the trail to the moment those bedroom songs finally stepped into stage lights. Through it all runs one through-line: honesty. The kind that feels safe when you’re singing alone, and the kind that feels a little dangerous when a room goes silent to hear it.
Brendan talks about walking that line between catharsis and the reality of sharing their work. They used to write like they were passing secret notes to themself. Now the notes have to breathe among strangers. They open up about shifting from super-specific diary lines to lyrics built around wider feelings—anxiety, persistence, the weird fog of transition—so more people can slip inside the songs. It doesn’t dull anything; it actually sharpens it. You can hear it in a line like “Why do I try to keep on trying?” and in the way the band lets silence hang before a chorus hits.
We dig into the making of Troubadour, from the piece-by-piece construction of Fish in a Pond to focused sessions at The Record Co. in Boston. Drummer Ben Curell, bassist Kelven “KP” Polite , and guitarist Christian Pace helped pull the songs into their live shape, with Nate Scaringi behind the board helping the drums land just right. The result is a sound Brendan jokingly calls “farm emo”—folk bones, a little country dust, and an emo heart—wrapped in those loud-quiet-loud dynamics that feel as much Neil Young as they do modern indie. It’s tender one moment, towering the next, built for small rooms that don’t stay small for long.
We close on motion. The northeast run—Burlington, Portland, Boston, Albany, Philly, New York—feels like both a celebration and a goodbye to a set they’ve lived inside for two years. New songs are forming. Brendan’s headspace is shifting again. That’s the promise here: a record that captures exactly where Tiberius is right now, and an artist already leaning toward whatever comes next.
If this one hits you, tap follow, share it with a friend who needs a cathartic chorus, and leave a quick review—it helps more listeners discover Tiberius and stories like this.
Nov 18, 2025
ifitbeyourwill S06E15 • villagerrr
A deluxe release hits different when the songs feel like they’ve been kicking around in the dirt for years. On release day for Tear Your Heart Out (Deluxe), we sat down with villagerrr to walk the long, crooked road behind it—a story that starts in a small town, rattles through a red Pontiac Sunfire, and settles into the stubborn, hand-built joy of figuring out recording alone. Mark Scott talks about how long runs in cold air, odd hours cutting concrete, and a phone overloaded with gritty voice memos shaped a 16-track world that blends indie twang, folk warmth, and slowcore quiet. It’s the kind of record that asks to be played in sequence, the way you’d leaf through an old photo album—front to back, smudges and all.
We get into the slow shift from solitude to letting other people into the room, and why he only opens the door when the feel is right. The Merce Lemon feature arrived the old-fashioned way: see a set, feel something, and send a message that isn’t coated in industry varnish. Drummer Zane Dway adds heartbeat without sanding the rough edges, while Boone Patrello shows how a single late-night vibe call can lead to parts that sound like they were dug up rather than written. Most of the songs were nearly done before the guests stepped in, which is why the whole thing still sounds unmistakably Villager—one voice, one hand on the wheel, just more colours in the dust.
Real life hums in the background too: fans quietly singing the deep cuts, someone shyly handing over a record to sign after an opener slot, the strange feeling of seeing slow growth in places that aren’t algorithms or charts. We map out the Ohio college dates and a December run with Teethe, then lift the tarp on what’s coming next: another album already mastered, still self-recorded in the margins of real jobs and real days, sharper but cut from the same honest cloth.
If you care about albums built to be lived with, about DIY recordings that prize feel over polish, and about indie music that smells like cold air, old cars, and real life, this one is for you.
Spin the conversation, let the deluxe play straight through, and if it hits you right, follow the show, pass it on, and leave a quick note. It keeps the whole thing moving.
“Writing these songs has helped me look back on some of the events that inspired some of the songs to be easier on the people involved,” says Scott. “People are all pretty similar. We all make the same mistakes or if they're not the same, we all make mistakes and things are more complicated than they seem at the surface.” 'Tear Your Heart Out' is an album about relationships, friendship, and heartbreak and how you internalize and deal with the conflicts and pain happening in your life.
Nov 16, 2025
Constant Smiles • Moonflowers • 2025
Much like the night-blooming flora the album takes its name from, Constant Smiles’ Felte debut Moonflowers is the product of slow, largely unseen patterns of growth. The New York-based band forged a strange and fascinating path all their own on the way here, one that has traipsed through various home bases, an exceptionally fluid lineup, and wild changes to their sound on almost every entry in a small kingdom of stylistically restless releases. Though the band gradually grew from existing as an amorphous collection of highly conceptual ideas and experiments into something easier to grasp, every step of their unlikely route has led to Moonflowers, a subtle masterpiece of internally-born ambient pop.
CHRIS GARNEAU • riot • 2025
"With 'For Celeste,' Garneau has returned with an undeniably lush and soulful ballad and a moving tribute to owning identity and casting off shame."
- Under the Radar
"The song is anchored by a plucky harp that swells into an expansive string arrangement of viola, violin, and cello which adds depth to Garneau’s guilelessly wistful and liberating lyrics about calling out boundaries."
- KEXP
"Chris Garneau has always pursued his own strange sonic path, drawing on a diverse array of influences to create an otherworldly, haunting and distinct lane in the singer-songwriter universe."
- Billboard
- Under the Radar
"The song is anchored by a plucky harp that swells into an expansive string arrangement of viola, violin, and cello which adds depth to Garneau’s guilelessly wistful and liberating lyrics about calling out boundaries."
- KEXP
"Chris Garneau has always pursued his own strange sonic path, drawing on a diverse array of influences to create an otherworldly, haunting and distinct lane in the singer-songwriter universe."
- Billboard
Conor Oberst, Blondshell • Event of a Fire • 2025
This is the fastest song I’ve ever written. I was in Berlin and I love that city so much. I was walking around and just writing things down that I saw. It’s a little bit about the city but mostly it’s about being alone and being okay with that for once. Also, I love the idea that you can start and stop and restart things whenever you want… in that way I guess it’s really just a song about having agency.
orchid mantis • In Airports • 2025
I think a lot of people live their life in airports. Stuck, waiting for something just over the horizon. Travelers come into their life, and leave when the time is right, but they just keep waiting. I've had a lot of conversations recently about agency and preserving your passions. About not letting yourself drift. Living with a purpose, and avoiding that sense of complacency that creeps in as you age. There's so much we can't control. So much so that it can blind us to how easily we could change. Tomorrow, you could catch that flight. You could go anywhere. You could be a new person. You could leave the airport.
Nov 10, 2025
ifitbeyourwill S06E14 • Autocamper
There’s something beautiful about a guitar line that smiles while the lyric aches — that’s the trick Autocamper pulls off again and again. The Manchester band’s debut What Do You Do All Day? shimmers with that mix of brightness and bruising honesty.
Their story feels fittingly accidental: friends of friends, a project that almost happened, and finally a pub meeting that did. Out of that came a lineup stitched from deep-house childhoods, folk-festival summers, and an indie-pop instinct that just feels right. The result is a sound that breathes — light, melodic, a little dreamy, and grounded in real feeling.
When we talk about writing without irony, Jack laughs — it’s harder than it sounds. He writes from feeling first, letting words find their place once the music starts to move. Songs might begin as rough acoustic sketches or on a laptop at 2 a.m., but they only really live once the band’s in a room together. Everyone adds something different: the drummer’s electronic sensibility, the little melodic turns, the patience to leave space. It’s what makes the album flow the way it does — shifting vocals, thoughtful pacing, and hooks that sneak up on you later.
The reactions have been wild — singalongs in Glasgow, thoughtful notes from fans, and the odd review that missed the point entirely. That last one kicked off a bigger chat about how we listen, how we care, and why honest fanzines still matter.
At the heart of it all is sincerity. Autocamper’s not chasing cleverness or cool detachment — they’re after connection. And as they look ahead, they’re set on moving forward, not repeating themselves. The goal: keep it real, keep it human, keep it melodic.
If you like your indie rock with heart and a hint of ache, start here.
Spin the record, find your moment, and if it hits — tell someone. That’s how good music travels.
Nov 8, 2025
ifitbeyourwill S06E13 • The Hidden Cameras
A Canadian indie original walks into a Berlin studio and comes out with a record that swaps pews for pulse without losing its soul. We sit down with Joel Gibb of The Hidden Cameras to explore Bronto—how it was written across years and cities, why new instruments still spark his best songs, and what it takes to reinvent a beloved project without erasing its DNA. From the first gallery shows and that infamous “tones and drones of gay folk church music” tag to a slow-build electropop finale that took nearly two decades to land, Joel opens the notebook and lets us in.
We talk about the nine-year gap between albums and the quiet labour hidden inside it: tours that consumed seasons, pandemic delays, and long days auditioning sounds in Logic while folding in analogue synths for grit. Joel explains why he recorded vocals alone in Berlin, worked with Nicholas in Munich, and called on Owen Pallett in Toronto for strings—an international thread that gives Bronto its depth. Genre becomes a lens rather than a fence; he’s chased “goth,” “country,” and now “dance,” while staying true to the melodic bite and lyrical candour that defined The Hidden Cameras.
On the road, Joel is keeping it taut and human: train rides, a guitar, a kick drum, and tracks for the bangers. He shares why solo shows feel lighter and more focused, how he chooses setlists that bridge old hymns and new hedonism, and why some ideas need time to find the right frame. If you’re curious about creative process, gear as muse, or how a scene shift can change your sound without breaking your heart, this conversation delivers a rare, grounded look behind the curtain.
If you enjoyed this, follow the show, share it with a friend who loves indie lifers and sonic reinvention, and leave a rating or review so more listeners can discover our conversations.
Canadian singer and songwriter Joel Gibb transforms his long-running indie-pop band into a Berlin-based subterranean house factory. pitchfork
sundayclub • Bannatyne • 2025
“One of the strongest debuts you’re likely to hear this year” - Analogue Trash
Formed in the stillness of rural Manitoba, Courtney Carmichael and Nikki St.Pierre started sundayclub as a way of processing the strange limbo of early adulthood: that feeling of being caught between who you were and who you're becoming.
The band blends hazy indie pop and dreamy textures with unfiltered storytelling. Their music feels like a guided tour through snapshots of growing up, growing part, and growing into your skin. As sundayclub's sound sharpend, so does their sense of self.
sundayclub - NOVEMBER 2025 LIVE DATES
November 14, Winnipeg, MB @ Sidestage
November 18, Toronto, ON @ Collective Arts
November 20, Ottawa, ON@ House Of TARG
November 21, Montreal, QC @ NOMAD Nation (M For Montreal)
November 22, Montreal, QC @Toscadura (M For Montreal)
November 25, Toronto, ON @ Horseshoe Tavern
Nov 6, 2025
ifitbeyourwill S06E12 • Alexei Shishkin
What happens when you book four days in a studio with no songs written and trust your gut anyway? We sat down with Alexei Shishkin to unpack the making of Good Times, a record born from instinct, loops, and a shared “don’t overthink it” pact with producer Bradford Krieger at Big Nice in Rhode Island. Alexei walks us through the thrill of showing up empty-handed, improvising with friends, chopping bass lines into new shapes, and committing to sounds fast so inspiration never goes cold.
We dig into the long arc that got him there: early experiments with Sound Recorder and GarageBand, the way loops taught him arrangement and structure, and how his voice drifted from hidden texture to focal point as space, gear, and confidence shifted. Alexei explains why direct-in guitars, stock tools, and minimal mixing rounds weren’t shortcuts but creative choices that kept the project fluid. He also shares an unfiltered take on modern music careers—why he loves recording but refuses to tour, how he handled radio sessions with covers instead of acoustic stand-ins, and what it means to keep music in the passion lane while video work pays the bills.
This is a conversation for anyone fascinated by process over perfection, indie production that favours momentum, and the quiet discipline of knowing what you want from your art. Along the way, you’ll hear about influences like Microdisney, High Llamas, and Pavement, and the layered catalogue Alexei is building for deep-diving listeners. Press play, then tell us: do you value a flawless performance, or the spark of creation captured in real time? If you enjoy the show, follow, rate, and share with a friend who loves indie music stories shaped by instinct.
Nov 3, 2025
The Hidden Cameras • How do you love? • 2025
The Hidden Cameras are a Canadian indie pop band formed in 2001 by singer-songwriter Joel Gibb. Known for their blend of melodic pop, orchestral arrangements, and provocative lyrics exploring queer themes, the band gained early recognition for their theatrical live shows featuring go-go dancers, choirs, and string sections.
Their debut album The Smell of Our Own became a cult favorite, followed by critically acclaimed releases like Mississauga Goddam and Awoo. Over the years, The Hidden Cameras have remained a unique voice in indie music, mixing intimacy, activism, and baroque pop sensibilities. Rough Trade
Nov 2, 2025
Rubber Band Gun • “Eyes Above” • 2025
I got turned onto the work of Kevin Basko through the people he rubs around with: The Lemon Twigs, Foxygen, Uni Boys, etcetera. Basko makes pop-rock like all of them, the sticky, howling dogs kind that’ll clog up your noggin, and he also makes a lot of it. In fact, he’s already put out three albums under the Rubber Band Gun banner in 2025 alone, a follow-up to the three albums he put out last year! And that’s not even including the three-part collection of demos he unveiled sometime in there, too. I dig that, and I dig the new Rubber Band Gun record, Record Deal With God. It’s a whole lot of fun, especially a firecracker track like “Eyes Above.” I mean, we’re talking about a potential favorite song of the year here!! With a glint of McCartney in his eye, Basko breaks through with some delirious, rabble-rousing rock and roll timelessness colored by his striking, catchy flavor of modernity. I credit Emily Moales’ backing vocals for yanking “Eyes Above” through the tides of retro. If there ever were a present-day example of Ram’s lasting influence on us young folk, look no further: —Matt Mitchell
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