February 13, 2026 Whittier Park - Tente des Neiges Photos by Samuel Stevens Photography

February 13, 2026 Whittier Park - Tente Rivière Rouge Photos by Samuel Stevens Photography

February 13, 2026 Whittier Park - Tente Rivière Rouge Photos by Samuel Stevens Photography

February 13, 2026 Whittier Park - Tente Forest Photos by Samuel Stevens Photography

February 13, 2026 Whittier Park - Tente Rivière Rouge Photos by Samuel Stevens Photography

February 13, 2026 Whittier Park - Tente Forest Photos by Samuel Stevens Photography

February 13, 2026 Whittier Park - Tente Rivière Rouge Photos by Samuel Stevens Photography

On February 11, 2026, the Canada Life Centre traded slapshots for steel guitars as the Country! Country! Tour rolled into Winnipeg for a night that celebrated twang, grit, and unapologetic Southern swagger. With rising talents McCoy Moore and Cameron Whitcomb setting the stage, the evening ultimately belonged to headliner HARDY, who delivered a set that blurred the lines between country, rock, and full-blown arena chaos. Opening the night, McCoy Moore wasted no time winning over the early crowd. “Nothing but Rain” and “Prayin’ for Me” showcased his knack for heartfelt storytelling, his voice carrying a youthful sincerity that felt tailor-made for country radio. His cover of Toby Keith’s “Who’s Your Daddy” injected a dose of rowdy nostalgia into the arena, drawing the first massive singalong of the night. Meanwhile, originals like “Bible and a Bar” and “Memories We Never Made” leaned into emotional vulnerability, balancing barroom bravado with reflective lyricism. Closing with “Something to You,” Moore proved he’s more than just an opener—he’s an artist steadily carving out his own lane in modern country. Next up, Cameron Whitcomb brought a raw, unpredictable energy that felt both rugged and magnetic. Launching into “Hundred Mile High” and “Options,” Whitcomb commanded the stage with the confidence of someone who’s clearly comfortable under bright lights and large arena crowds. “Gasoline & Matches” and “The Hard Way” leaned into his gravel-toned vocals, each song landing like a confession shouted. One of the most unexpected highlights came with his cover of “Creep” by Radiohead—complete with its classic alt-rock melancholy and Cameron hardly reimagined the track, which sounded beautiful in the cavernous arena. He also treated fans to “You and Me,” an unreleased track that hints at exciting things to come from the extremely fast-rising Canadian singer-songwriter. By the time he closed with “Medusa,” Whitcomb had firmly cemented himself as one of Canada’s most compelling new country voices — and Winnipeg responded accordingly. When the lights dropped, and HARDY stormed the stage with “Bottomland,” the energy shifted into overdrive. From the defiant anthem “UNAPOLOGETICALLY COUNTRY AS HELL” to the thunderous “.30-06,” it was clear this wasn’t going to be a laid-back country show—it was a full-scale arena takeover. “ONE BEER” had the entire Canada Life Centre swaying and shouting every word, while “SIGNED, SOBER YOU” (performed partially) offered a rare moment of emotional pause. The crowd roared for “wait in the truck,” his haunting Lainey Wilson collaboration turned live powerhouse, before fists shot into the air for “GIVE HEAVEN SOME HELL.” In a nod to his songwriting success, HARDY performed “God’s Country,” originally made famous by Blake Shelton—proudly reminding the audience it’s the biggest song he’s ever written for another artist as he took a walk around the arena. The moment felt triumphant, a testament to his impact behind the scenes as much as onstage. He even slipped in a cover of “Ready for Love” by Mott the Hoople, proving his rock influences run deep. But it was the closing stretch of “PSYCHO” and “SOLD OUT” that transformed the arena into a sea of stomping boots and raised beers. The encore was pure chaos in the best way possible. “JIM BOB,” “REDNECKER,” and “TRUCK BED” turned the venue into a country-rock revival, confetti flying as fans screamed every lyric back at him. By the end of the night, one thing was undeniable: Country! Country! wasn’t just a tour name—it was a declaration. In Winnipeg, HARDY, Cameron Whitcomb, and McCoy Moore delivered a show that honoured country’s roots while fearlessly pushing its boundaries, leaving the Canada Life Centre buzzing long after the final chord rang out.

Story Of The Year have never been a band to do things halfway, and A.R.S.O.N.  feels like the sound of them leaning all the way into who they are in 2026—no trend-chasing, no costume changes, just big riffs, bigger feelings, and that familiar push-and-pull between melody and mayhem. Out February 13, 2026, via SharpTone Records, the album’s title—All Rage, Still Only Numb—pretty much doubles as its mission statement: this is a record about surviving your own head, even when it feels like your head is trying to set the room on fire. In a lot of ways, it really does pick up where Tear Me to Pieces (2023) left off. With Colin Brittain (Linkin Park) back in the producer’s chair, the band sounds both sharpened and unburdened—polished without losing the grit that made Story Of The Year matter in the first place. The core ingredients are all here: huge guitars, snappy, kinetic drums, and Dan Marsala’s ability to flip between throat-shredding screams and chest-cracking hooks like it’s second nature. But A.R.S.O.N.  doesn’t feel like a nostalgia play. It feels current, restless, and emotionally bruised in a way that fits a band who’ve lived a lot since Page Avenue  (2003) turned them into a generational anthem machine. The opener, “Gasoline (All Rage Still Only Numb),” wastes absolutely no time making its point. It’s one of the heaviest things they’ve ever put out—distorted guitars grinding forward, a hardcore-leaning breakdown, and vocals that sound like they’re being ripped straight out of a pressure cooker. Lyrically, it’s pure scorched-earth catharsis, a “burn it down and start again” manifesto that sets the emotional temperature for the whole record. It’s chaotic, ugly in the best way, and weirdly invigorating. “Disconnected” flips that outward rage inward. It’s vulnerable without being soft, built on punchy guitars and massive drums that give Marsala’s confession—“I’m sick of being disconnected from everything I need”—the weight it deserves. The song’s origin story (that piano piece turning into a low-tuned whammy riff) makes sense when you hear it: there’s a sense of tension and release baked right into the structure, like the track is constantly arguing with itself about whether to implode or explode. That push-and-pull is kind of the album’s secret weapon. From there, A.R.S.O.N.  stretches out into a surprisingly varied emotional landscape. “See Through” and “Fall Away” lean into the band’s melodic instincts, balancing urgency with hooks that feel built for sweaty, shout-along choruses. However, it's Papa Roach's own Jacoby Shaddix's feature on “Fall Away” that really sends the track to the stars. Whereas the pair of tracks, “3 am” and “Into The Dark” tap into that late-night, spiralling-headspace energy—songs that feel like they were written in the quiet hours when anxiety is at its loudest. “My Religion” and “Halos” flirt with bigger, almost arena-sized choruses without losing the edge, while the track “Good for Me / Feel so Bad” plays like a split-personality anthem, torn between self-preservation and self-sabotage. Toward the back half, “Better Than High” injects a jolt of forward momentum in a powerful way, while stripping things back entirely just between Marsala and an acoustic guitar. The record closes out with the track “I Don’t Wanna Feel Like This Anymore,” it's an absolute high note that feels both exhausted and determined—less a tidy resolution and more an honest admission that the fight is always ongoing. That honesty is what keeps A.R.S.O.N.  from feeling like just another late-career heavy record. It’s not pretending everything’s okay. It’s documenting what it sounds like to keep going anyway. There’s a throughline here that connects all the way back to Page Avenue —that same mix of melodic aggression and raw vulnerability that turned “Until the Day I Die” into an anthem—but A.R.S.O.N.  sounds like the grown-up, battle-tested version of that very spirit. Story Of The Year isn’t trying to relive their past; they’re using it as fuel to push past the nostalgia. In the end, A.R.S.O.N.  is a bruising, cathartic, and surprisingly nuanced entry in the band’s catalogue. It captures anxiety, anger, and emotional numbness without wallowing, and it turns all of that into songs that beg to be screamed in the dark—preferably with a crowd, however. For a band this deep into their career, that’s not just impressive. It’s a reminder of why Story Of The Year still matters. Check out more from Story Of The Year: Instagram:   https://www.instagram.com/storyoftheyear/ TikTok:   https://www.tiktok.com/@storyoftheyear_?lang=en Twitter:   https://x.com/StoryoftheYear Facebook:   https://www.facebook.com/storyoftheyear

On February 9, 2026, Winnipeg’s Sidestage hosted a night that felt both intimate and quietly monumental, as Softcult finally made their long-awaited first appearance in the city, with Guilty Sleep setting the tone as local support. In a room that thrives on closeness between artist and audience, the show unfolded like a shared secret—loud, emotional, and deeply human to the core. Guilty Sleep. Photos by Samuel Stevens Photography Guilty Sleep opened the evening with a set that balanced warmth and melancholy, easing the crowd into the night with a sound that felt both lived-in and immediate. Kicking things off with “Sleeve,” they quickly established a mood that was introspective without ever feeling subdued. “Lazarus Bell” and “Family Tree” carried a sense of quiet urgency, their melodies unfurling with the kind of patience that rewards attentive listeners. By the time “Softly” and “Cocoon” rolled around, the room had settled into their world—heads nodding, bodies swaying, eyes dead-fixed on the stage. “Eyeore” injected a sharper edge into the set, while the set closer “Roots” felt like a mission statement: grounded, honest, and emotionally direct. Guilty Sleep didn’t just warm up the crowd—they carved out a space for vulnerability, making Sidestage feel smaller in the best possible way, like a living room full of friends who all happen to love the same songs. When Softcult took the stage, the energy in the room shifted from contemplative to electric. For a band playing their first-ever Winnipeg show, they carried themselves with the confidence of artists who know exactly what their music means to the people in front of them. Opening with “Drain,” they wasted no time diving into the hazy, grunge-tinged atmosphere that has become their signature. “Pill to Swallow” and “Naive” followed, thick with distortion and emotion, sounding massive even within the tight confines of Sidestage. Softcult. Photos by Samuel Stevens Photography The middle stretch of the set was a masterclass in balancing heaviness and melody. “Queen of Nothing” and “Tired” hit with a cathartic weight, while “Perfect Blue” and “16/25” showcased the band’s knack for writing hooks that linger long after the last note fades. “Love Song” and “Not Sorry” drew some of the loudest reactions of the night, with the crowd singing back lines like they’d been waiting months for this exact moment. “I Held You Like Glass” and “Uzumaki” leaned into Softcult’s darker, more atmospheric side, bathing the room in thick walls of sound and shimmering feedback. By the time “Haunt You Still” and “Spit It Out” closed the main set, the band had the audience fully in their grip—sweaty, smiling, and completely locked in. Then came a moment that felt especially personal. Mercedes returned to the stage to explain that Softcult doesn’t usually do encores, but Winnipeg’s persistent calls for “one more song” clearly struck a chord. What followed was a stripped-back, solo performance of “When a Flower Doesn’t Grow,” the title track from the band’s brand new debut album. In contrast to the dense, swirling soundscapes that filled most of the night, this version was raw and exposed, turning Sidestage into a hushed, reverent space. It wasn’t just a bonus song—it was a thank-you, a shared pause, and a perfect exhale to end the Monday evening. For a first visit to Winnipeg, Softcult didn’t just play a show—they made a connection. Paired with Guilty Sleep’s thoughtful, emotionally grounded opening set, the night felt like a reminder of why small rooms and loud guitars still matter so much. February 9, 2026, wasn’t just another tour stop; it was the beginning of what will hopefully be a long relationship between Softcult and a city that was clearly ready to welcome them with open arms.

Indie alternative artist Kira Lise releases her first track of 2026, “Ignorance Is Bliss,” out today. Written during a period of intense anxiety, the song emerged as a raw cry for help, evolving into one of Kira’s most powerful releases to date. The track recently won a major music competition in partnership with iHeartRadio and TikTok LIVE, highlighting its growing impact.   LISTEN TO "IGNORANCE IS BLISS" HERE .   “ Whenever I have a moment to connect with my emotions, great art happens — like this song, ” says Kira. “' Ignorance Is Bliss' is full of bold instrumental moments, inspired by artists like Radiohead, Billie Eilish, and other alternative musicians. EMÆL adds his unique touch as a cellist, and Dan Adams’ violin elevated the track even further, giving it depth and richness. ”   The song showcases Kira’s striking vocal range and layered production. While not fully mainstream, it perfectly captures the sound and vision she wants to create moving forward.   Kira has built a global following through live-streaming originals and covers on TikTok LIVE, becoming one of the platform’s top creators. She was recently nominated for Live Creator of the Year at the inaugural TikTok Awards, served as a TikTok LIVE guest speaker at VidCon 2024, and performed at the Reeperbahn Festival in Germany with TikTok LIVE. She is also an endorsed artist for Shure Microphones at NAMM 2026 and has been featured across TikTok LIVE’s Instagram and TikTok channels as one of the platform's faces.   Her online traction led to signing her first record deal with 3686 Records, and to date, she has earned over 6.3 million likes on TikTok, more than 731K followers across platforms, and over 1 million streams. The Orange County native continues to make her mark on the indie alt scene, and with its emotional depth, bold instrumentation, and Kira’s signature vocal storytelling, “Ignorance Is Bliss” stands as a defining single for 2026. Find out more from Kira Lise: TIKTOK | FACEBOOK | INSTAGRAM | YOUTUBE

The Rising Canadian Tour rolled into Winnipeg on February 4, 2026, and if the Park Theatre’s walls could talk, they’d probably still be asking for earplugs. Headlined by Toronto’s ever-relentless Danko Jones, the night was a full-throttle celebration of Canadian rock. The show was loud, unapologetic, and built for packed floors and hoarse throats. The Leftists. Photos by Samuel Stevens Photography Kicking things off were local favourites The Leftists, which haven't performed in the city in a minute now. The band had the enviable task of warming up a room that was already buzzing. The Winnipeg band didn’t waste a second easing into things, delivering a tight, punchy set that leaned into grit and groove with the confidence of a group playing on home turf. Their sound landed somewhere between raw garage rock and snarling punk energy, and it didn’t take long before heads were nodding and the floor started to fill. By the time they wrapped up, the crowd was primed for exactly the kind of chaos Danko Jones specializes in. When Danko Jones hit the stage, the shift in energy was immediate. Opening with “What You Need” and “Diamond in the Rough,” the band set the tone early: this was going to be a no-breathers, no-filler kind of night. The trio’s chemistry was on full display, with Danko commanding the stage like a seasoned ringmaster while the band locked into a groove that felt both brutally tight and effortlessly fun. Danko Jones. Photos by Samuel Stevens Photography The middle of the set leaned hard into fan favourites and pure crowd-pleasers. “I’m in a Band,” “I Gotta Rock,” and “Everyday is Saturday Night” hit like a three-song mission statement, each one bigger and louder than the last. The Park Theatre crowd shouted along, fists and horns in the air, turning the floor into a bouncing, sweaty singalong. Tracks like “Code of the Road,” “Bounce,” and “Good Time” kept the momentum sky-high, proving once again that Danko Jones’ catalogue is basically engineered for live rooms. There were also moments where the band let the songs breathe just enough to show their range. “You Are My Woman” and “Full of Regret” added a touch of swagger and grit, while “I Love It Louder” did exactly what the title promised—pushing the volume and the crowd’s energy even further into the red. After tearing through “Had Enough,” the band disappeared briefly, only to return for an encore that felt less like a bonus and more like a victory lap. “Guess Who’s Back,” “Lovercall,” and “My Little RnR” closed the night on a high, leaving the crowd sweaty, smiling ear-to-ear, and very clearly satisfied to the core. The Rising Canadian Tour stop in Winnipeg wasn’t about spectacle or overproduction—it was about riffs, volume, and connection. With The Leftists delivering a strong hometown opening and Danko Jones proving once again why they’re one of Canada’s most reliable live rock bands, the Park Theatre got exactly what it came for: a loud, joyful reminder of how good rock ‘n’ roll can feel when it’s done right. Now, hopefully, Danko and the band live up to the commitment to return to Winnipeg without another eight-year absence.

On January 27, 2026, the Burton Cummings Theatre in Winnipeg was transformed into a room full of shared feelings, quiet sing-alongs, and a whole lot of misty eyes as Dean Lewis brought his tour through town with support from Matt Hansen. It was one of those nights where the production didn’t need to be flashy, because the songs—and the crowd’s emotional investment in them—did all the heavy lifting. Photo by Samuel Stevens. Matt Hansen opened the evening with a set that felt intimate and disarmingly honest, even in a theatre of this size. Walking onstage to warm applause, Hansen immediately set the tone with “Strangers Again,” pulling the audience into his world of tender, diary-like pop. His voice carried a fragile sincerity that made tracks like “Don’t Look Back” and “Versions of Forever” land with extra weight, especially as the room gradually quieted to really listen. “Better Off Without Me” and “Something to Remember” showcased his knack for writing songs that sit right on the edge between heartbreak and healing, while “Somewhere In Between” and “yellowstone (holding you)” leaned into atmosphere, letting the melodies breathe. By the time he reached “Chemicals” and closed with the song “Let Em Go,” Hansen had clearly won over a big chunk of the crowd, earning a warm, well-deserved response that felt less like polite opening-act applause and more like genuine appreciation. After a brief intermission, Dean Lewis took the stage to a roar that made it clear Winnipeg had been waiting for this one, after a couple of hiccups had postponed the show by a few months. Kicking things off with “Empire,” he immediately established a big, anthemic mood before easing into “Hold of Me” and “7 Minutes,” both of which had the audience singing along nearly word for word. Lewis has always had a gift for turning deeply personal stories into communal moments, and live, that quality hits even harder. The middle of the set leaned heavily into fan favourites and emotional heavy-hitters. “All I Ever Wanted,” “Hurtless,” and “Stay Awake” kept the momentum strong, while “I Hate That It’s True” and his brand spanking new single “I Am Getting Well” showed off his ability to balance vulnerability with hope. “Memories” and “With You” were particular highlights, with hundreds of phone lights glowing across the theatre, turning the venue into a sea of soft white stars. Photo by Samuel Stevens Lewis also sprinkled in a couple of covers, putting his own heartfelt spin on Gracie Abrams’ “That’s So True” and the Goo Goo Dolls’ “Iris.” Both fit seamlessly into the set, feeling less like detours and more like natural extensions of his own catalogue—songs chosen not just because they’re popular, but because they live in the same emotional universe as his own style of writing. As the night went on, the energy never dipped. “Half a Man” and “Seconds Before Sunrise” hit with full emotional force, while “Waves” remains one of those songs that seems almost designed for a crowd to sing back in unison. By the time he reached “Enjoy It While It Lasts” and “How Do I Say Goodbye,” there was a real sense of catharsis in the room—the kind that comes from collectively sitting with big feelings and realizing you’re not doing it alone. Of course, the night wouldn’t have been complete without an encore, and Lewis delivered with “Be Alright,” a song that has long since become a sort of emotional anchor for many fans. Hearing the entire Burton Cummings Theatre sing it back to him was a powerful, full-circle moment—one of those reminders of why live music still matters so much in an era of endless streaming. Overall, the Dean Lewis and Matt Hansen show felt less like a standard tour stop and more like a shared experience—two artists, a completely sold-out room full of people, and a collection of songs that hit right where it hurts (and heals). Winnipeg got a night of heartfelt performances, honest storytelling, and the kind of crowd connection that lingers long after the last note fades.

Today, Brenn! returns with his new single, “brand new car,” a beautifully written, stripped-back folk track that captures the tension of a relationship on the verge of collapse. Following his previous release, the song marks his second single ahead of a more cohesive project slated for later this year. Anchored by warm guitar chords and intimate, unguarded lyrics, “brand new car” draws listeners into the aftermath of a love story gone wrong. The Tuscaloosa native offers a poignant reflection on a partner slipping away. “If you're gonna leave, just leave me,” he wails, his raw vocals cutting through untethered guitars. Rich in metaphor, Brenn! likens himself to smoke lingering in his love interest’s new car—imagery that feels pulled straight from a diary. Dry, hazy guitar layers and stacked vocals deepen the mood, amplifying the song’s emotional weight. “brand new car” is haunting and quietly cathartic for every passenger along for the ride. Brenn! says of the track: “brand new car has been a challenging song to make but a huge step in a new direction as I begin to produce my own music fully by myself. I am super excited to share everything else I've been working on!” Brenn!’s last single “Footing” marked a new chapter of creative and spiritual clarity, blending folk-rooted storytelling with the heartbeat of modern pop. With a growing TikTok fanbase of over 400,000 followers, his universe is just taking shape. His continued themes of lost love and coming of age narrate his natural blend of folk, rock and Americana, making something uniquely Brenn!. Listen to "brand new car" HERE .   Brenn! first captured audiences with his viral breakout “4Runner,” which landed on the Billboard Top 50 and amassed millions of streams and social media views. Following his debut EP County Line, he embarked on a sold-out headline tour and graced the stages of Lollapalooza, Hangout Fest, and Sing Out Loud Festival. Named to Billboard’s “21 Under 21” and hailed as One to Watch, Brenn! continues to carve out his space as one of folk-pop’s most compelling new voices. Learn more about the song directly from Brenn! HERE . More about Brenn!: Brenn! has everything he needs at home in Tuscaloosa. Surrounded by rolling green acres, thriving farm life, and a vibrant Southern history, the Western Alabama city serves as the undeniable backbone of the young star’s cathartic, jangling folk-pop. Though barely out of his teens, the old soul born Brennan Keller possesses an uncanny knack for blending classic folk storytelling with modern pop hooks and shout-along choruses. His music evokes the intimacy of artists like The Lumineers while maintaining a sound entirely his own, capturing fans around the world with wistful melodies, passionate delivery, and soul-excavating lyrics that intimately explore coming-of-age themes such as lost love, heartache, and finding strength in faith.   Brenn! has sparked a growing fervor on streaming platforms (amassing more than 164 million global plays) and built a dedicated TikTok fandom of more than 400,000 fans who turn up for his rough-hewn charm and obvious talent, his road to success has had a pothole or two. Before putting out his deeply personal and expansive 2024 debut EP County Line , Brenn! released “4runner,” a heart-wrenching track about long-distance love that builds from a quiet strum to an all-out sprint, carrying Brenn! into Billboard’s Top 50 for the first time and onto 23 global charts, and garnering 1.4 million weekly Spotify streams. With sold-out shows and festival appearances like Lollapalooza and Hangout Fest, Brenn! continues to captivate audiences and solidify his place as one of today’s most compelling artists.   Find out more from Brenn!: Instagram | TikTok | Spotify

More about the podcast: The Music Storm Podcast is an interview podcast about getting to know people within the music industry. From musicians, photographers, venue hosts, and even lighting and sound techs, you name it, they may appear. This podcast will be very diverse and asking people what they think the music industry will become, where it’s heading to, and so much more. You can find the podcast wherever you listen to podcasts HERE .

Stabbing has never been subtle, but Eon of Obscenity , out January 30, 2026, makes one thing abundantly clear: subtlety was never the point. The Houston, Texas foursome doesn’t just operate within the boundaries of brutal death metal—they gleefully bulldoze them. As their Century Media debut, Eon of Obscenity  feels less like a sophomore album and more like a declaration of intent, positioning Stabbing as one of the most ferocious and forward-thinking voices in modern brutal death metal. From the opening moments of “Rotting Eternal,” the album wastes no time dragging the listener into its suffocating world. The transition straight into “Inhuman Torture Chamber” is seamless and punishing, immediately showcasing what sets Stabbing apart: sheer extremity executed with purpose. Bridget Lynch’s vocals are the album’s most jaw-dropping weapon—gutturals plunge to abyssal depths before snapping into chittering, almost inhuman cadences that barely sound possible, let alone controlled. It’s brutal, but never sloppy. While Stabbing’s early material leaned into primal savagery, Eon of Obscenity  feels like a refined evolution of that chaos. Tracks like “Masticate the Subdued” and the title track strike with relentless speed and density, but there’s a sharper sense of structure underneath the carnage. Guitarist Marvin Ruiz’s riffs—honed further by his work with Devourment—are suffocating and precise, locking in tightly with drums that feel less like rhythms and more like sustained assaults. One of the album’s most surprising moments comes with the instrumental “Ruminations.” Rather than acting as a breather, it highlights the band’s growing technical confidence, weaving shifting time signatures and layered riffs into something unsettling and cerebral. It’s a reminder that brutality and musicianship aren’t mutually exclusive—and that Stabbing are more than capable of balancing both. The record hits another high point with “Reborn to Kill Once More,” a track that feels emblematic of the album as a whole. It’s vicious, focused, and brimming with conviction, underscoring Lynch’s own sense of rebirth behind the mic. Later, “Nauseating Composition,” featuring Suffocation vocalist Ricky Myers, adds an extra layer of old-school credibility while feeling entirely earned rather than gimmicky—a full-circle moment following Lynch’s now-legendary stint filling in for Myers on tour. Sonically, Eon of Obscenity  benefits from a production that understands restraint. Recorded at Southwing Audio in Houston and mixed and mastered by Chris Kritikos (Oceans of Slumber, Cryptic Void), the album is raw without being muddy, aggressive without being over-polished. Every blast beat, riff, and vocal eruption lands with clarity, preserving the grimy honesty that defined the genre’s ’90s and early-2000s roots. Beyond the sheer sonic violence, Eon of Obscenity  also carries a subtle but important sense of perspective. Lynch’s presence as one of the few female vocalists in brutal death metal isn’t treated as a novelty—it’s a strength. Her approach to lyrics and delivery flips expectations, injecting the genre with a voice that’s both confrontational and necessary, continuing a lineage forged by bands like Cerebral Bore while carving out something distinctly her own. By the time closer “Sinking Into Catatonic Reality” collapses into silence, it’s clear that Eon of Obscenity  is more than just a heavier follow-up to Extirpated Mortal Process (2022). It’s a defining moment for Stabbing—a record that elevates their sound, sharpens their identity, and sets a new benchmark for contemporary brutal death metal. In a genre built on excess, Stabbing have found a way to push further, faster, and harder—and make it feel essential. Check out more from Stabbing: Facebook | Instagram

Harajuku-core trailblazers HANABIE. are back once again with their most confident and culture-clashing release yet. With their new EP, HOT TOPIC , out January 28, 2026, via Sony Music Japan, it feels less like a casual drop and more like a statement piece—five blistering metalcore tracks that cement the Tokyo quartet’s place as one of heavy music’s most exciting global exports. Following the kinetic chaos of Bucchigiri Tokyo  (2024), HOT TOPIC  sharpens HANABIE.’s already unmistakable identity: bubblegum J-pop aesthetics colliding headfirst with metalcore aggression, playful pop hooks stitched into breakdowns that hit with serious force. It’s maximalist, unapologetic, and—true to its name—absolutely impossible to ignore. The EP opens with the electronicore track, “ICONIC,” a mission statement if there ever was one. It’s explosive from the jump, pairing YUKINA’s ferocious shouts with hyperactive instrumentation that refuses to sit still. The track thrives on contrast: cute vocal inflections snap into guttural intensity, mirroring the band’s visual-versus-sonic duality that has become their calling card. It’s bold, self-aware, and dripping with main-character energy. Previously released single “Spicy Queen” remains one of the EP’s standout moments. It’s a swagger-filled anthem that leans into confidence and chaos in equal measure, driven by crunchy guitar riffs and chant-ready hooks. There’s a sense of fun here that never undercuts the heaviness—HANABIE. sound like they’re enjoying every second of pushing genre boundaries. The following track, “Tokimeki about you (トキメキAbout you),” offers a slightly softer—but no less dynamic—shift in tone. The track leans into melodic sensibilities, blending emotional warmth with controlled bursts of heaviness. It highlights the band’s growth, especially in how seamlessly they weave pop instincts into a metal framework without diluting either side. The fan-favourite track “GIRL’S TALK” continues to shine within the EP’s context, bursting with personality and attitude. It captures HANABIE.’s playful spirit while still delivering the punch longtime listeners crave. Whereas the closing number, “Theme of Hanabiechan. (はなびえんちゃん。のテーマ),”  is unlike the rest of the EP, and it feels like a love letter to their world—but still quirky and unmistakably them , wrapping the EP with a wink and a grin. Formed in 2015 by YUKINA, MATSURI, and HETTSU as a high school club project and later solidified by the addition of CHIKA in 2023, HANABIE. have evolved into a powerhouse that refuses to be boxed in. Their viral hit “Pardon Me, I Have To Go Now”—with over 11.1 million YouTube views and 5.3 million on TikTok—was only the beginning. From making history at Lollapalooza 2024 as the first Japanese women to perform on the main stage, to gearing up for their first-ever North American headlining tour this March and April 2026, their momentum shows no signs of slowing. HOT TOPIC  is HANABIE. at their most refined and fearless—a compact, high-energy release that proves their global buzz is well-earned. It’s loud, stylish, and wildly fun, capturing a band in full stride as they continue to reshape what modern heavy music can look and sound like. If this EP is any indication, HANABIE. aren’t just part of the conversation—they are  the conversation. Check out more from HANABIE.: TikTok | Instagram | Facebook | Twitter | YouTube

On January 24, 2026, the Park Theatre in Winnipeg became a dimly lit confessional as Jade LeMac brought her It’s Always At Night Tour  to town, which was her first time performing in the city, delivering an emotionally charged set that felt equal parts intimate diary entry and communal release. Joined by rising alt-pop artist Chiara Savasta as support, the night leaned fully into vulnerability, catharsis, and the quiet power of shared feelings. Chiara Savasta. All photos by Samuel Stevens. Toronto's Chiara Savasta kicked things off with a set that was sharp, stylish, and refreshingly self-aware. Opening with “Cross Control Patrol,” Savasta immediately set the tone with her cool, detached vocal delivery layered over punchy production. Tracks like “I Hate DJs” and “Bodies” carried an effortless confidence, blending sardonic lyricism with danceable beats that had the crowd locked in early. Her set continued to build momentum through “Playlist” and “Necktie,” showing off her knack for crafting songs that feel both playful and cutting. A standout moment came with her cover of Metric’s “Black Sheep,” which earned a wave of recognition and cheers from the Winnipeg crowd while still feeling unmistakably Savasta in tone. Closing out with “Brand New Girl, Brand New Machine” and “Superstar Loser,” she left the stage having clearly won over new fans—proof that she’s more than ready for bigger rooms. Jade LeMac. All photos by Samuel Stevens. By the time Jade LeMac emerged onto the stage sharply at 9 PM, the Park Theatre was buzzing with anticipation. She opened with “Heaven’s Sake,” immediately pulling the audience into her world—one built on emotional honesty and unfiltered storytelling. Songs like “Last Day On Earth” and “Same Place” hit with a quiet intensity, LeMac’s voice carrying a rawness that made even the largest moments feel deeply personal. Mid-set highlights included “You’re Not A God,” “Intertwined,” and “Love Bites,” each drawing the crowd further into the emotional push-and-pull that defines her music. “Meet You In Hell” and “Sweet Dreams” leaned toward a darker tone, while the pair of tracks, “Got Me Obsessed” and “There’s People Watching,” showcased her ability to balance heaviness with pop sensibility. One of the most visually striking moments of the night arrived during “Pink Balloon,” as fans throughout the venue held up pink balloons, transforming the room into a soft, glowing sea of colour. It was a simple gesture, but one that underscored the connection between LeMac and her audience—a recurring theme throughout the entire evening. The main set closed with “Sleep With The Lights On” and “Car Accident,” leaving the crowd emotionally spent but still hungry for more. LeMac returned for an encore that hit hard, launching into a triple header. First on the plate was “Aimed To Kill,” followed by the atmospheric “Constellations,” before she ended the night with the song “Running Home,” a fitting closer that felt both hopeful and unresolved. By the end of the night, it was clear that the It’s Always At Night Tour  isn’t just a concert—it’s an emotional experience. Jade LeMac’s Winnipeg stop proved her ability to turn personal pain into something communal and healing, while Chiara Savasta’s sharp, confident opening set made for a perfectly matched pairing. For those in attendance at the Park Theatre, it was a night that lingered long after the lights came back on.

Katie Tupper’s debut album, Greyhound , feels like a long, slow exhale after years of movement—between cities, between versions of herself, between the person who chases and the person who can’t be caught. Out January 21, 2026, via Arts & Crafts, the record is both a homecoming and a reckoning, rooted in the wide-open Saskatchewan plains while shaped by the sidewalks and skylines that have framed her rapid ascent. Led by Tupper’s unmistakable deep alto—warm, elastic, and quietly devastating— Greyhound  blends soul, indie, alternative, and R&B into something that feels lived-in rather than polished to a fault. It’s a sound she’s been refining since her EPs Towards The End  (2022) and Where To Find Me  (2023), releases that earned her a JUNO Award nomination and over twenty-two million streams worldwide. But where those projects hinted at her emotional range, Greyhound  stretches it fully across the horizon. The album’s central metaphor is as elegant as it is heavy. Greyhounds race endlessly toward a mechanical rabbit that will always stay just out of reach, speeding up whenever the fastest dog gets close. For Tupper, that image became a lens for examining her own relationships and patterns—how she can be both the pursuer and the unattainable prize. This cycle of chase and retreat runs through the album like a heartbeat, shaping songs that explore romantic love, platonic devotion, and an almost spiritual attachment to place. Greyhound  opens with the track “Disappear,” setting the tone with hushed intensity and a sense of emotional gravity that never quite lifts, even in the album’s lighter moments. The pair of tracks, “Tennessee Heat” and “Whitney,” follow with a hazy, sun-warmed intimacy, Tupper’s voice gliding effortlessly over arrangements that feel equal parts grounded and airy. There’s a cinematic quality here, like watching memories flicker past a car window on an endless highway. One of the album’s emotional anchors arrives with the album's fourth track, “Safe Ground,” a platonic love song written to Tupper’s best friend. It’s tender without being saccharine, a promise of stability in a world defined by motion. In a genre landscape that often prioritizes romantic longing, “Safe Ground” stands out for its sincerity—proof that some of the most profound love songs aren’t about heartbreak, but about showing up. That emotional clarity contrasts sharply with the knot-in-your-stomach tension of tracks like “Sick To My Stomach” and “Obviously Desperate,” where Tupper dissects the uneasy spaces between wanting, needing, and knowing better. “Right Hand Man” pushes the album into a more funkier territory, pairing groove-forward instrumentation with an unflinching look at co-dependency. It’s one of Greyhound ’s most striking moments, capturing the crushing weight of being someone’s sole source of happiness and the quiet erosion of independence that can follow. Later tracks such as “Jeans (fall on my knees)” and “Round and Round” lean into the cyclical nature of the album’s themes, reinforcing the idea that growth isn’t always linear. By the time the final two tracks, “Original Thoughts” and the closing “Cowboy Lullaby” arrive, Greyhound  feels less like a destination and more like a pause—a moment of stillness before the next stretch of road. “Cowboy Lullaby,” in particular, embodies the album’s prairie soul, riding gently into the sunset with a sense of earned calm. Ultimately, Greyhound  feels like having a late-night drink with your best friend—laughing, confessing, pointing fingers, and owning your part in the mess. It’s nuanced, honest, and self-aware without taking itself too seriously. Katie Tupper doesn’t pretend to have all the answers here; instead, she documents the chase itself, finding beauty in the motion and meaning in the near-misses. With Greyhound , she delivers a debut that is expansive, intimate, and deeply rooted—a sonic ode to the Saskatchewan plains and the complicated hearts that roam them. Check out more from Katie Tupper: Website | Instagram | TikTok | Spotify | YouTube | Apple Music

Out January 21, 2026, via AWAL, rising indie pop singer-songwriter Delaney Bailey will release her long-awaited debut album, Concave . The album tackles a palette that is rich with grief, anger, self-interrogation, and hard-won tenderness. It's not just the culmination of Bailey’s meteoric rise from bedroom uploads to hundreds of millions of streams; it’s the clearest, most immersive articulation of who she is as an artist. Across its thirty-six-minute-long runtime, Bailey builds a world that feels vast and inward at once, pairing her ethereal yet piercing vocals with expansive, living soundscapes that ebb and swell like emotional weather systems. The result is an album that doesn’t merely invite listeners in—it surrounds them. Bailey has long approached music like visual art, and Concave  is steeped in the ethos of romanticism. Much like the movement’s towering landscapes and tiny human figures, the album emphasizes emotional magnitude over narrative neatness. Feelings loom large here: heartbreak caves inward, uncertainty stretches endlessly, and moments of clarity feel like brief openings in the clouds. Bailey’s voice—often stacked, warped, or hovering just above the mix—becomes both guide and focal point, grounding the album’s otherworldly production in something deeply human. The record opens with “How To,” an understated entry point that immediately establishes Concave ’s contemplative tone. From there, “Nightshade” stands out as one of the album’s most devastating and necessary moments. Addressing her complicated relationship with eating and self-erasure, Bailey frames the song not around body image, but around the instinct to make herself smaller—mentally, emotionally, existentially. The track’s restrained production mirrors its subject matter, slowly unfurling as Bailey reclaims space for herself, turning vulnerability into quiet defiance. “Wake Up,” which was one of the album’s early singles, marks a turning point both sonically and thematically for Delaney. Built on layered, almost choral vocal stacks that nod to Bailey’s choir roots, the song captures the isolating realization that no one is coming to save you. It’s stark without being hopeless, landing somewhere between resignation and resolve. Bailey doesn’t dramatize depression here—she names it, sits with it, and then dares herself to move. Elsewhere, Concave  wrestles with the unease of growing older and knowing less. “Far Away” captures this tension beautifully, reframing uncertainty as both frightening and freeing. Bailey’s writing shines in these moments, where introspection doesn’t spiral inward but instead opens outward, allowing room for change, contradiction, and self-rediscovery. Songs like “Wound,” “Wither,” and “Know” further this emotional arc, drifting through loss and healing with a patience that feels intentional rather than indulgent. One of the album’s most striking tracks, “Retainer,” zeroes in on a moment of painful self-awareness—the instant you realize something is wrong, but you’re not yet sure how to fix it. The song sits in that discomfort, its production subtly unsettled, as Bailey traces the line between anxiety and deeper reckoning. It’s a pivotal point on the record, where avoidance gives way to responsibility. “Baby Dream” and the title track “Concave” bring the album’s themes of womanhood and expectation into sharper focus. Rather than offering up answers, Bailey leans into ambiguity, especially around the idea of motherhood and inherited roles. These songs feel suspended in time, mirroring the way such questions linger unanswered, shaping identity through their very uncertainty. The album’s most confrontational moment arrives with “Lion,” a bold departure from Bailey’s earlier work. Set against a gothic house pulse, the track bristles with restrained fury as she addresses the societal pressure placed on women to want children. Her vocals are icy, hypnotic, and unflinching, floating above the beat with a sense of hard-earned anger. It’s not just a sonic risk—it’s a statement, signalling Bailey’s willingness to challenge expectations both personal and cultural. By the time Concave  closes, there’s a palpable sense of release. Not because everything has been resolved, but because Bailey has allowed herself to fully feel and articulate what once felt too heavy to hold. The album doesn’t offer catharsis through closure; it offers it through honesty. With Concave , Delaney Bailey delivers an emotional masterpiece that honours complexity over clarity and feeling over form. It’s an album that understands pain as something expansive rather than isolating, and in doing so, creates space for listeners to feel seen within its vast landscapes. Like the romantic paintings that inspired it, Concave  reminds us that even when we appear small against the enormity of our emotions, there is power in standing within them. Check out more from Delaney Bailey: Website | Instagram | TikTok | YouTube