Bedroom Rebellion: Art Pop’s Raw and Radiant “Teenage Scum”

If you’ve ever felt like a misfit with too many thoughts and nowhere to put them, Teenage Scum by Art Pop might just become your new anthem. This track is messy in all the right ways, an indie-rock catharsis carved straight from the Grossenbacher brothers’ childhood bedroom in Austin. Self-produced, recorded on the fly between college departures and emotional growing pains, the song pulses with that rare, intimate urgency only DIY music can deliver.

Max and Miles channel their heroes, LCD Soundsystem, Car Seat Headrest, Radiohead without ever feeling derivative. Instead, they forge something uniquely theirs: sharp, scrappy, and brimming with teenage angst that actually means something. You can hear the frustration boiling over in the fuzzed-out guitars, feel the loneliness in the deliberate lo-fi texture, and sense a kind of rebellious sincerity that lingers after the last note fades.

But it’s not all storm and stress. There’s a strange, exhilarating joy here too a sense of freedom in refusing to conform, in leaning into the mess instead of cleaning it up. As a preview of their upcoming LP This Is Art Pop, this single doesn’t just make a promise, it makes a statement.

Teenage Scum is loud, unpolished, and bracingly honest. And that’s what makes it beautiful. Turn it up, and let the kids howl.

Love, Longing, and a One-Way Trip to Forever

Michellar’s debut single “Get Me There to Church” is a tender, slow-burning ode to love’s quiet culmination, a heartfelt walk down memory lane that leads to the altar. Written by San Francisco-based artist Michelle Bond and brought to life with the collaborative efforts of producer Tobias Wilson and vocalists Helen Walford and Harrison Black, the track beautifully captures the bittersweet tension between years of togetherness and the ache for something more permanent.

There’s something warmly cinematic about this song, the kind that sneaks into your chest and settles in. Walford and Black’s vocals carry the emotional weight effortlessly, with harmonies that feel like they’ve been marinating in nostalgia and devotion. You can hear the Miranda Lambert influence peeking through in the rootsy, country textures, but Michellar isn’t here to mimic, she’s here to add her own story to the lineage.

What makes “Get Me There to Church” feel so personal is its honesty. There’s no rush, no overproduction, just the raw sincerity of a woman who lived the story she’s telling. The recording process, stretching from San Francisco to London and Staffordshire, somehow mirrors the song’s message: distance is nothing when love is real.

With this debut, Michellar doesn’t just introduce herself, she invites us into a chapter of her life. It’s intimate, authentic, and quietly unforgettable. Country fans, take note, this one’s got soul.

A Sun-Drenched Leap Into the Unknown

IKEVALD’s “Lick the Sun” is more than a summer anthem, it’s a radiant declaration of rebirth. With this bold debut under DWB Music Publishing, the Estonian artist turns a page, stepping into the southern heat of Spain’s soul and translating that warmth into sound. The track doesn’t just shimmer; it pulses with intent, marrying soulful pop with a Latin heartbeat that’s both playful and resolute.

There’s a sense of motion baked into every beat, like catching a breeze mid-leap and deciding not to care where you’ll land. You can feel the freedom in the production, co-crafted with Pete Barringer and Sarah Rose Campbell. It’s as if the entire song exhales, letting go of rigid structure in favor of honest rhythm. And then Simon Davis’s guitar lines come in clean, sun-dappled, and organic, reminding us that joy doesn’t need to be loud to be powerful.

What really makes “Lick the Sun” stand out is its emotional sincerity. It doesn’t chase trends, it trusts its own instincts, much like IKEVALD himself. This is music that feels lived-in, not just written. There’s something quietly rebellious about choosing happiness without a plan, and in this track, that rebellion feels like sunlight on skin.

If “Lick the Sun” is any indication of what’s to come, then IKEVALD isn’t just starting a new chapter, he’s setting it on fire.

Dream Pop on a Collage of Stars

Higher Selves Playdate’s “Good Dreams” is more than a track, it’s a glimmering portal into a shared universe where lo-fi nostalgia, poetic intuition, and pure sonic joy collide. The Virginia-based duo, Jessica and Steve, weave their academic roots in poetry and art into a dreamy, synth-laced soundscape that feels both weightless and deeply grounded in feeling.

From the first fuzzy guitar stroke, “Good Dreams” blooms with an inviting warmth. Its production leans into a rich texture, retro in vibe, yet fresh in execution. Think glistening synths wrapped around jangly guitars, all buoyed by vocals that shimmer like a half-remembered reverie. The song lives somewhere between an old Cure record playing at half-speed and a zine made of cosmic dust.

What truly makes “Good Dreams” stand out is its refusal to be cynical. In a world that’s fraying at the seams, this track offers a gentle rebellion through melody and mood. There’s joy here, not the saccharine kind, but one born from resilience and creativity. You can hear the echoes of art gallery nights, philosophy-fueled conversations, and spontaneous kitchen dances.

“Good Dreams” is the sound of two kindred spirits sketching new constellations in the dark. It’s dreamy, yes, but wide awake with purpose. Let it wash over you. Let it remind you that joy, too, can be an act of defiance.

Suburban Pressure Cookers and Sonic Earthquakes

William J. Sullivan’s latest single, “Good Fences Make Good Neighbors” (feat. Zilla Rocca), is a boiling pot of raw emotion, adult disillusionment, and gritty sonic texture and it simmers just long enough before blowing the lid clean off.

From the moment the track kicks in, you’re hit with a deliberate weight: live drums thud with unfiltered urgency, lo-fi guitar distortion coils in the background like a static threat, and basslines hit low and dirty. But this isn’t noise for noise’s sake, it’s tension wrapped in musical muscle. Sullivan, known for his genre-blending prowess, constructs a soundscape that feels part post-apocalyptic hip-hop, part emotional release therapy.

Enter Zilla Rocca, who spits verses that don’t just ride the beat, they grip it with clenched fists. His delivery doesn’t scream, but it seethes. He sketches the uneasy truce of suburban life with razor-sharp insight, channeling that universal itch of dissatisfaction that no amount of freshly cut lawns can soothe.

What makes “Good Fences…” so replayable is that contrast: it’s heavy, but never hopeless. This track is a standout, not because it tries to impress, but because it dares to confess. Sullivan and Zilla Rocca didn’t just make a song. They built a sonic neighborhood, and yeah… the fences are shaking.

While You’re Waiting, Listen to This

Patti Zlaket’s “Waiting For The Cue” is one of those rare bonus tracks that doesn’t feel like an afterthought, it feels like the centerpiece. Unveiled as part of the Tunes [Deluxe Edition] reissue, this freshly remastered gem carries the weight of time, longing, and quiet resilience, and still lands with startling immediacy.

Right from the start, there’s a sense of stillness, a kind of held breath that pulls you in. Zlaket’s voice, rich and gently weathered, wraps itself around the melody like a warm, late-night conversation. There’s no rush here. It’s a song that moves at its own pace, mirroring the emotional landscape of someone poised between uncertainty and grace.

Grammy-winning guitarist Wayne Johnson adds gorgeous, understated textures that shimmer without overpowering the intimacy of the moment. You feel the years behind Zlaket’s delivery, not just in her tone but in the restraint, she doesn’t oversell a single line. And that’s what makes it hit so hard.

“Waiting For The Cue” feels like the kind of track you stumble upon during a quiet evening and can’t quite let go of. It’s meditative, yes, but it doesn’t wallow. It watches, wonders, and slowly leans forward.