“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.

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.

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?

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.

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.

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.

Meredith Hobbs Coons and Carolyn Zaldivar Snow of The Tonearm compare notes on 'Lilith Fair: Building a Mystery,' the documentary film that turns feminist music history into something closer to evidence.

After three years of touring more than 200 days annually, the guitarist and Jeff Tweedy sideman recorded 'Pilot Light' to recreate, musically, what constant travel had taken away.

The fiercely independent songwriter's EP 'daisy' honors their late childhood dog while exploring patterns of loyalty and mistreatment across romantic, familial, and pet relationships—all released exclusively on Bandcamp as an act of self-determination.

The Montreal electroacoustic artist spent three decades distributing sound through pirate radio and public space performances before releasing 'Vowel Jams', an album that spotlights her personal vision over public appeal.

Silvia Ryder discusses her album 'Monday's Child', the unconventional instruments that define her music, and how leaving Sugar Plum Fairies led her to build a new identity from Omnichords and archival film.

Cellist Kirin McElwain's exploratory album 'Youth' turns toward crystalline feedback, chaotic oscillators, and intentionally harsh tones to express the feelings of desire and shame occupying the same cognitive space.

On 'System', Izzy Hagerup aka Prewn builds maximalist songs alone in her home studio, using 'self-indulgent' cello and multitracked vocals to process the gravity of being trapped inside something much bigger than herself.

The Constant Smiles frontman discusses how 'Moonflowers' represents his return to fingerpicked folk after years of pushing against the Martha's Vineyard sounds that shaped him, and why he finally has the patience and skill to honor influences like Nick Drake.

From the Fairlight CMI to the 1940s Ondioline, Erika Dohi built her sophomore album using rare instruments with distinct personalities, astrology as a compositional framework, and meditation practices that confronted loneliness.

The experimental cellist discusses her ambient album 'Just Like Any Other Day (어느날): Background Music For Your Mundane Activities', a four-year project born from isolation that turned memories of Korean cinema and cheap-sounding synthesizers into companionship for daily living.

The visual designer and composer behind 'Monologue' explains why they're moving toward greater compositional control, how cassette decks remind them that sound is physical, and what's missing in ambient music right now.