Steph Marziano has produced Sir Chloe’s Swallow the Knife, Jasmine 4t’s You Are The Morning, Vundabar’s Surgery and Pleasure, and Jenny on Holiday’s Quicksand Heart. Additionally, in her early days, she assistant engineered on albums for big names such as The Prodigy, Sam Smith, and Radiohead. Now, she continues to produce and co-write on a wide range of projects, including Hayley Williams’s Grammy-nominated song “Parachute” from the acclaimed 2025 album Ego Death at a Bachelorette Party. Apart from her technical prowess, what sets Steph apart in the studio (and on virtual calls, frankly) is her ability to make people comfortable; to make them feel heard and like they have something to offer creatively. In this conversation, she reflects on her journey into songwriting, the sounds that inspire her, and what makes someone a “good hang” in audio spaces.

Hrishikesh Hirway is a musician through and through, though that may not be the role that comes to mind when we first think of him. For over ten years, he has created and hosted multiple podcasts, most notably Song Exploder and its Netflix series, for which he has courted such iconic artists as Natalia Lafourcade, The Roots, and Fleetwood Mac to join him as guests and talk shop about their songs, from their most vulnerable early vocals to their final mixed and mastered work. Prior to his podcasting success, he made his own music as The One AM Radio, writing and producing each of his albums himself. With his latest LP, In the Last Hour of Light, produced by Philip Weinrobe [Tape Op #167] and released under his own name, he brings us highly personal songs that showcase his natural storytelling abilities that he has honed through his years of interviewing the greats.

“I just knew I needed to be around women. All kinds of women. A lot of women.” This is how Shana Falana, who created The Goddess Party in 2023, defined the ache she felt from which her progressive-theater project (with a forthcoming album of music and a scripted television show adaptation) was born. After the pandemic made making a living as a musician feel impossible, her health took a turn, and perimenopause “hit hard,” Shana craved something different from anything she had done before, including playing in bands, working in public service, and even painting houses. What she has created is something much bigger—and sparklier.

Andrew Sa, in and of himself, is an interesting artist, his talents shaped by his childhood performances at his mother’s karaoke joint then honed through relationships forged in the Chicago music scene as a young adult, all culminating in his debut full-length album American Rough due out June 26th on Bloodshot Records. Add to this that said album incorporates the influences of Mount Moriah alum and revered singer-songwriter H.C. McEntire as well as that of Missy Thangs, former house engineer of Fidelitorium Recordings (Mitch Easter’s place in Kernersville, North Carolina) with the trio’s collective love of Nina Simone, Tracy Chapman, and Patsy Cline coloring the overall tone, and you get something extra special. There’s a crooner sensibility to it, a modern “Countrypolitan” kind of swagger captured using a blend of Fidelitorium’s vintage mics, and also an unabashed queerness communicated throughout. This is an album brought to life in an environment more concerned with care than with power and hierarchies, and while we all agree that it shouldn’t be news for women co-producers and an openly gay man to have helmed such a project, there is an element of pride and authenticity in their having done so as well. The four of us spoke, and joked around, on a virtual call together, and here is the resulting conversation, edited for clarity and concision.

Chinese American Bear are carrying the torch for fun music out here in the big 2026. The husband-and-wife musical duo's offerings hearken back to the twee era of indie, drawing comparisons to Of Montreal, The Boy Least Likely To, and The Flaming Lips—experimental yet accessible, upbeat and melodic. On CAB's songs, veteran musician Bryce Barsten throws down a disco beat and bassline, tosses on some funk flavorings and spacey guitar, sprinkles in some ear candy—including partner and primary vocalist Anne Tong's laughter and spoken phrases in Mandarin, occasionally warped with otherworldly delay and reverb—and spreads in some background vocals of his own to support Tong's lead, creating tasty sonic snacks that delight on their way into our brain-bellies. And they're meant to. The goal in creating this music is not to challenge but to please.

Fiona Apple was only 18 when she released her debut album Tidal 30 years ago in July of 1996. The decades since then have found Apple employing an evermore freewheeling approach—see the scattered percussion, homemade instrumentals, and dolphin whistle vocal trills of "I Want You To Love Me" from 2020’s Fetch the Bolt Cutters. In light of the freedom she currently enjoys, the seasoned session musicianship and restraint that defines the album can feel like a taming presence, a bit like bumpers at a bowling alley. But comparison in this case is the thief of joy; though Apple's music has only grown stranger and rougher-hewn in the decades since Tidal, her debut still holds up as a bracingly direct—and powerful–introduction to her purposed contralto and bass-heavy piano thundering.

During its run, The Bear established itself as a show with great taste in music. The show’s music supervisors, Josh Senior and Christopher Storer (the latter of whom is also the show’s creator), have been sure to sprinkle an array of flavors onto the soundtrack, adding in recordings by actual Chicagoans (Mavis Staples, Serengeti), songs closely associated with the city (a demo version of Sufjan’s Stevens’ “Chicago,” “Love On A Real Train” from Tangerine Dream’s Risky Business score), icons of alternative and classic rock (Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross, Kim Deal, Bob Dylan, Van Morrison), and one very meaningful selection from the reigning queen of pop.

Dark and light are a false binary; that's what I came to realize during my conversation with composer, fiddler, and vocalist Zosha Warpeha. In familiarizing myself with her work, perhaps drawing from my own macabre-leaning sensibility, I got so swept up in its details that could be construed as spooky that I nearly missed its truer focus. Though her recent album I grow accustomed to the dark indeed references darkness in its title, the emphasis is not to be placed there but on the "grow accustomed" part. Though Orbweaver, Warpeha's collaboration with Mariel Terán, may reference a spider, oftentimes considered scary, what is an orb-weaver but a small animal, its spiderly brethren strewn across the globe; one that builds intricate webs that catch dew and glow brightly in the sun; one that adapts to a changing planet and finds its ways to thrive?

It has become increasingly common for YouTubers and other online creators to pivot to music—some for a brief season, to sing their heart’s song and experience the joy of bringing an original composition or two into the world, and some for a long-term shift (Addison Rae being, perhaps, the most famous example of someone pursuing this path). In many of these cases, the common, perfectly acceptable practice is to find a producer to work with who can midwife songs along with each artist to help them to live out their musical dreams. But this is not how Gabi Belle does things.

Charlotte Cornfield's album 'Hurts Like Hell' maps a songwriter's life from drink-ticket gigs in Montreal to the steadier ground of family, community, and creative confidence in Toronto.

Kito, whose given name is Maaike Kito Lebbing, has a music production career spanning three continents, from Australia, to Europe (London), and to the United States by way of Los Angeles. In that time, she has produced music for many iconic artists, such as Mabel, Jorja Smith, and Empress Of, but 2025 found her landing her first executive production credit on Lily Allen’s much buzzed-about album, West End Girl. We spoke about songcraft, the importance of maintaining a sense of fun while making dance music, and the previous night where she had attended the 2025 ARIA Awards (Australian Recording Industry Association Music Awards) with many Aussie music industry friends in Sydney.

Rachel White is an engineer, guitarist, and producer who has lent her talents in the studio to Weezer and Panic! At the Disco, among others (she has even contributed backing vocals to the latter on tour). Now mostly keeping busy as a producer in her own studio space in the Mount Washington neighborhood of Los Angeles, she has worked alongside studio legends such as John Congleton [Tape Op #81], Jake Sinclair, Eva Reistad, Ethan Gruska [#141], and Suzy Shinn [#151]. We chatted about what it’s like to grow up in L.A., seeking out women-led organizations that create opportunities in audio, and, of course, her process and gear.

Clarissa Connelly, the Scotland-born, Copenhagen-based composer, first captured audiences’ attention with her 2018 release, Tech Duinn, and has been creating medieval-tinged multidimensional soundscapes ever since. Informed by her masters' level composition studies at the Rhythmic Music Conservatory and influenced by ancient mythologies and holy landmarks alike, Connelly’s work has drawn comparisons to Kate Bush as well as Hildegard von Bingen. With the sonic spaces she has structured since Tech Duinn, from 2020’s The Voyager to 2024’s World of Work (the primary focus of this conversation), Connelly has been moving from exterior to interior sources of inspiration.

Longtime friends and Chicago scene veterans, Whitney Johnson, Lia Kohl, and Macie Stewart have turned 'BODY SOUND' into a record of real-time improvisation, physical tape manipulation, and an unexpected kinship with Yoko Ono's 'Grapefruit'.

Though their debut album as the duo Sibyl was only just released into the world in February of this year, Chloe and Lily Holgate have been singing together their entire lives, often at the bidding of their loving parents—"Girls, sing for us!" they would say. That's just the kind of thing sisters do, especially when raised by parents who have forged careers in the world of musical theater. The two fondly recount their vocal origin story with joy and gratitude, knowing that the early coaxing they experienced together has allowed them to tap into a deeply attuned state only accessed through harmonizing together, something Chloe describes as a "grounding and magical experience."

The classically trained string player recorded her new album across 15 wilderness locations in British Columbia, embracing imperfection, improvisation, and the unpredictable feedback of the natural world.

“I don't want a record to sound like what everyone else is trying to sound like,” Scout Gillett says, and that means keeping her various inspirations close, allowing Neil Young, Lucinda Williams, and The Deftones to share space in her imagination. Gillett joined us virtually on a sunny Wednesday morning from her home in Los Angeles to discuss her new album, Tough Touch . . .

Having familiarized myself with the Jason P. Woodbury oeuvre through the years via his editorial home Aquarium Drunkard (to which I sometimes contribute), his funky A/V project Wastoids, and his guest appearances on podcasts including Bandsplain and my very own Wilco Will Love You, it has been great fun to sort the Easter eggs hidden within his latest album, Jason P. Woodbury & The Nightbird Singing Quartet, releasing March 13th, 2026. J

There is some cool-as-hell history in the Civil War-set series The Gray House, the kind that bears further geeking out over post-watch. However, as compelling as TGH aspires to be, and often is, it can’t seem to decide what aspect of its storytelling to emphasize, instead leaving it all in there, resulting in eight episodes of television that feel as overstuffed as a 19th century socialite’s skirt.  

Ratboys frontwoman Julia Steiner discusses how 'Singin' to an Empty Chair' grew from a grief practice into a collection of bright, aching songs that never settle for just one feeling at a time.