Black & White – Joelle Charan

Joelle Charan’s ‘Black & White’ feels like a song that knows exactly where it comes from – and where it’s going. Here, the Amsterdam-based singer, pianist and songwriter opens a new chapter that fuses her early soul, funk and jazz influences with the precision of her current craft. Lyrically, she steps out of the comfort zone of classical romanticism and turns her gaze to the power of the surface: to those moments when beauty shifts our perception and reality briefly becomes blurred. Musically, a tight, hand-played foundation holds everything together; the vocals provide clear definition, the piano drives the track forward, and a funky guitar solo marks the turning point. ‘Black & White’ is a groove with attitude – timeless, focused, uncompromisingly unique.

poltergeist – Outlaw Cartier

“poltergeist” hits like a night-time electric shock: sharp guitars, a driving bass and dark synths create a soundscape that brushes against the shadowy world of The Cure, but surges forward with far greater intensity. The vocal flow is rhythmic, almost percussive, clearly hip-hop-inspired, whilst the trap-style vocal processing lends the track a modern edge. This blend creates a hybrid that combines the raw, gritty energy of Fontaines D.C. with the melodic, ethereal rap sensibility of Travis Scott. ‘poltergeist’ is not a stylistic mash-up, but an identity all of its own — dark, feverish, uncompromisingly forward-driving.

sCArs – robotfamilies

robotfamilies’ “sCArs” feels like a snapshot that starts to blur the very moment you look at it – nothing remains truly in focus, yet everything still carries that peculiar warmth that only things which were once important possess. As the song drifts through blurred scenes and lingering emotional remnants, it tentatively explores the question of what actually remains when memories no longer function reliably, but instead get lost in hints and fragments. The blend of haunting atmospheres and alternative-rock edges creates a space in which holding on and letting go merge into one another, as if both movements were part of the same breath. The vocals sound less like narratives than like inner logs – an attempt to reconstruct a former self whose contours have long since vanished. “sCArs” asks whether scars mark pain or bear witness to survival, and deliberately leaves this question hanging. An atmospherically charged indie-rock moment for anyone who has ever tried to piece together a past that can no longer be brought into focus.