Electric 5’s New Offering: Hear “Enter Sandman” Like Never Before

Electric 5 didn’t just cover Metallica’s “Enter Sandman”—they detonated it, rewired the wreckage, and rebuilt something sharper. Their debut release doesn’t chase novelty, it declares identity. With three electric violins, two electric cellos, zero backing tracks, and an unapologetic sense of purpose, the Chicago-based quintet offers a version of the metal classic that feels at once intimate and immense.

There's something visceral about hearing a track so tied to thrash history rendered with strings that aren’t trying to mimic guitars—they’re reinventing what it means to play with force. This isn’t about gimmick or irony. It’s a high-wire act of composition, craft, and dare. From the wah-pedal solo that slices through the arrangement like a siren to the deep, percussive growl of the double cello bassline, every section feels earned.

The band speaks openly about how this piece nearly got shelved when they were a quartet. Only after expanding their lineup did the puzzle click into place. That detail matters—it’s the kind of behind-the-scenes recalibration that speaks to Electric 5’s obsessive attention to sound. You hear it in the arrangement: tight without being sterile, inventive without sacrificing aggression.

Visually, their performance video is stripped to the essentials—five women, dressed to impress, locked in formation, playing like the stage is theirs. No narrative filler, no CGI fog. Just energy and elegance colliding in real time.

Some covers are tributes. This one is a mission statement. Electric 5 isn’t translating rock into classical—they’re reimagining what both can be when you throw out the rulebook and amplify feeling.

Power Jackson Shares Intimate New Single “Keep You Safe”

Rising Hip Hop and R&B artist Power Jackson has released a new single titled “Keep You Safe,” offering listeners a stripped-back and emotionally resonant look into love, trust, and vulnerability. The track dropped across streaming platforms earlier this week, quietly making its way onto the radar of fans of alternative R&B and minimalist soul.

Built around a repetitive, hypnotic vocal hook—“You know I love you bae / You know I’ll keep you safe”—the song doubles down on intimacy rather than grandeur. Clocking in at just over two minutes, it blends ambient textures with unfiltered vocals, creating an atmosphere that feels confessional and raw.

Power Jackson, known for his lo-fi aesthetic and emotionally charged songwriting, continues his streak of self-produced releases with “Keep You Safe.” The single arrives without a traditional rollout or major label backing, reflecting the artist’s independent ethos and direct-to-listener approach.

Though brief in runtime, the song’s impact lies in its repetition, which plays more like a mantra than a hook. Listeners have responded to the simplicity and sincerity of the track, with early social media comments calling it “soothing,” “haunting,” and “a song for people who need to hear ‘I got you.’”

Power Jackson has yet to confirm whether “Keep You Safe” is part of a larger project, though fans speculate it could lead into an upcoming EP or visual release. For now, the single stands as a quiet statement of care in a genre often defined by grandiosity.

Penomeco’s “My Chick”: A New Sound of Artistic Freedom in 2025

Penomeco is in a rare position right now—post-label, post-crew, but somehow more expansive than ever. His latest single, “My Chick,” featuring Lil Cherry, feels like a recalibration of what artistic freedom can sound like when it isn’t forced to prove itself. It’s raw, confident, and self-contained—a mission statement disguised as a late-night ride.

Tarric Confronts the Quiet Collapse on “Lying With You”

It’s easy to talk about love when everything is going right. Tarric ’s new single “Lying With You” is about what happens when it all quietly falls apart—and you stay anyway.

Built on glimmering synth textures and hollowed-out percussion, the track is emotionally raw but musically composed, like a breakup conversation in a perfectly curated gallery space. Tarric doesn’t scream through the pain—he whispers it with precision. “You make me say things I would not do / Cause I’ve been lying with you,” he sings, peeling back the layers of emotional self-distortion that creep into relationships like mold under wallpaper.

This isn’t a revenge song or a dramatic farewell. It’s a self-inventory. A reckoning.

That kind of maturity isn’t new to Tarric, but it’s more distilled than ever. While his debut album Lovesick danced through infatuation and its collapse, Method seems like the inevitable chapter two: disillusionment, clarity, survival. “Lying With You” sets that tone like a cracked mirror—beautiful, fractured, and reflective.

Raised on a diet of The Smiths and Depeche Mode in the American Midwest, Tarric’s taste for melodic melancholy has always been clear. But it’s his ability to adapt those influences into something relevant—and resonant—that sets him apart from his contemporaries. After moving to Los Angeles with barely enough to survive, he built his world from scratch: working behind the scenes at NBC and Fox by day, sculpting his sonic identity by night.

The visual strength of his work, evidenced in videos that landed on MTV, isn't just a bonus. It's a core part of the equation. Tarric makes music that feels like film—romantic, atmospheric, precise.

“Lying With You” carries all that cinematic weight, but without ever feeling overproduced. It feels lonely in the right ways. Uncomfortable in the real ways. And in a world of over-engineered indie pop, Tarric has carved out a lane where vulnerability is the flex.

Tino Kamal’s ‘Switch’ Is Style, Struggle, and Survival in Six Tracks

Tino Kamal isn’t experimenting—he’s living out loud. On Switch, the London-born shape-shifter throws six tracks into the fire and watches what survives. What comes out is a record that feels like a moodboard of his life: unpredictable, raw, and completely his own.

This isn’t music made for clean playlists or genre tags. Switch is an instinctual response to living in a world that demands clarity from someone who finds power in chaos. It’s loud and layered—“Rodeo Ranger” sounds like a punk club and a warehouse rave had a baby. “24365” plays the other side of that coin, opening a window into the grind, the quiet collapse, the emotional static that’s harder to name.

But what makes this EP hit different is that every track feels lived-in. “Curry Goat Riddim” isn’t just a banger—it’s a reflection of heritage, swagger, and the tension between cultural pride and creative freedom. Tino Kamal doesn’t spell it out, but you can feel the weight behind it. “Girl Better Know” carries that same duality—part love song, part confession booth.

What he’s doing here isn’t genre-blending for the aesthetic. It’s survival. It’s a document of someone making space for all versions of themselves—loud, soft, defiant, vulnerable.

Switch just dares to be honest.

Kara Major’s “Can’t Control Me” Sparks a Powerful Burn of Purpose

When Kara Major punches in, she doesn’t clock out until she’s dismantled a system. In her new single “Can’t Control Me,” she doesn’t just offer another dance track to sweat through—she launches a full-bodied challenge to addiction, energetic manipulation, and conformity culture, wrapped in the volatility of EDM.

“Can’t Control Me” demands full presence. Produced by Grammy-winning Vinny Venditto, the track opens with a lean, tightly wound build, teetering on the edge of restraint before erupting into a serrated drop.

And that’s where Kara’s vocals land—front and center, unbothered and raw. It’s that confident, spoken edge that pulls from both rap and club traditions, but refuses to be boxed in by either. She’s here to remind you who’s running the room—and more importantly, who’s running herself.

The most striking part of “Can’t Control Me” is the shift in perspective Kara Major employs. She doesn’t just tell her story of growth and recovery from the outside in—she voices the chaos, the seduction of the forces that once had her under. There’s a quiet brilliance in that choice. It gives the song a kind of possession; not just thematic, but rhythmic. The result is a piece that plays like a spiritual confrontation at 128 BPM.

Kara Major’s entire trajectory has resisted simplicity. She is a senior executive and a national boxing champion—credentials that already set her apart in an industry full of familiar backstories. Her turn toward music is the story of a high-performing individual with no tolerance for compromise, finding the only medium vast enough to carry everything she has to say.

That’s perhaps what separates her from the glut of purpose-branded pop that often lacks teeth. There’s no empty empowerment rhetoric here. Her previous singles—“Win” and “White Collar Gangsta”—make it clear she’s not interested in performing strength for the algorithm. She’s dissecting it, redefining it, and feeding it through a sonic lens that knows exactly how much adrenaline and self-awareness today’s listener can handle.

XTINE Won’t Sugarcoat It: “Nobody Stays” Stings Like the Truth

XTINE doesn’t make music to be liked. She makes it to be felt.

On "Nobody Stays", the Devon-born alt-pop artist rips into the raw nerve of abandonment with surgical precision. There’s no metaphorical padding here, just clean, direct lyricism that lands like a sucker punch: “Will I keep you, or will I end up pushing you?” It’s a question that doesn’t want an answer—it wants blood.

First premiered on May 15, "Nobody Stays" builds itself on a foundation of beautiful contradiction: orchestral strings crash into glitchy electronics; XTINE’s voice floats but never flinches. It’s Björk in the therapy room. It’s Sia with her guard down. It’s the kind of track that doesn’t ask for your attention—it commands it.

More than just a song, "Nobody Stays" functions as a protest—against sanitized emotion, against the silence around mental health, and against the pop industry’s obsession with polish. It’s deeply personal, openly referencing XTINE’s own struggles with borderline personality disorder. But it never asks for pity. Instead, it leans into the chaos with intention and power.

Her decision to anchor the accompanying music video in a bare studio setting—just her, a mic, and her notebook—isn't some lo-fi aesthetic stunt. It's a reminder: production is her instrument, and this is her war room. You believe it when she says she never wants listeners to just hear her music—she wants them to live inside it.

There’s real weight to her ethos, too. Through her collaborations with mental health orgs like Under the Sisterhood and the DMAX Foundation, XTINE blurs the line between artist and advocate. She’s not using mental health as a marketing angle—she’s weaponizing her platform to connect, reflect, and, ultimately, to help.

XTINE’s journey from winning IndabaMusic contests to grabbing a cosign from Sia isn’t some indie fairy tale. It’s grit and vision sharpened into form. On "Nobody Stays", she doesn’t just prove she can hang with alt-pop’s best—she challenges them to be as brave.

Styngray’s “Be Mine” Breaks the Mold: A Love Song With Teeth

Hip-hop isn’t exactly known for wearing its heart on its sleeve—but Styngray is flipping that script. With his latest single “Be Mine,” the Chicago-born, Atlanta-based rapper steps away from tough talk and into something far riskier in today’s climate: emotional honesty. It’s not just a love song—it’s a declaration, delivered with the same clarity and conviction he’s been building his name on.

Produced by hitmaker Mr. Hanky, whose fingerprints are on club anthems like “Wobble,” the track could’ve easily leaned into radio polish. Instead, it threads soulful warmth through Styngray’s gritty cadence, creating something that feels raw, uncalculated, and deeply personal. The beat is plush, melodic—more R&B than trap—but Styngray keeps it anchored in hip-hop with a delivery that’s restrained yet deliberate.

Then there’s Chertrease. Her contribution to the hook is more than a vocal flourish—it’s the emotional center of the song. Her voice trembles, then soars, lifting the track from a simple back-and-forth into something like a dialogue between two real people trying to love each other right. It’s the kind of chemistry you can’t fake, and it’s the reason the track feels more lived-in than lab-grown.

What’s more impressive is how Styngray manages to bring tenderness into his world without softening his edge. This is still the same artist who spit survival bars on “Unbreakable,” but here, he’s swapped armor for honesty. And it’s working. With “Be Mine” sitting at #7 on the Digital Radio Tracker’s global indie chart and breaking into Mediabase’s Top 200, this isn’t just a passion project—it’s a statement.

Styngray is crafting a career. From open mics in Chicago to showcases in Atlanta, he’s been putting in the kind of work that algorithms can’t measure. “Be Mine” is his latest step forward, and it’s a big one.

Stream “Be Mine” through First Kings Entertainment.

New Pop Voice Vini Serves Emotional Truth on “I’m Happy for You”

When your best friend trades late-night talks for date nights with someone who gives you the ick, it stings. Vini knows the feeling and he’s turned it into “I’m Happy for You,” the pop song that perfectly captures being left behind with a forced smile and a broken heart.

This 21-year-old Brazilian-Argentinian rising star has been quietly crafting a world of late-night glitter, crying-in-your-room vulnerability, and soft-boy rage—and this track is its perfect entry point. With verses that feel like diary entries and a chorus that swings between "I just hate your boyfriend" and "I swear it’s true, I’m happy for you," the duality is delicious.

What makes Vini stand out is his ability to capture how messy emotions really are. He doesn’t try to be poetic when he’s angry, and he doesn’t apologize for being jealous. And that’s refreshing. This isn’t about toxic love or fake friendships. It’s about what it feels like when your person stops choosing you.

The music video is packed with Easter eggs—stars, glitter, late-night vibes—all symbolic if you know Vini’s story. It reflects the aesthetic of someone who grew up worshipping Disney Channel icons and then turned that sparkle into raw honesty. A total Swiftie move.

Add to that his TikTok roots (over 130k followers), his history of overcoming eating disorders, and his passion for blending pop with rock and alternative, and you’ve got an artist who isn’t just catchy—he’s meaningful. “I’m Happy for You” isn’t just a bop. It’s therapy in disguise.

Longboat’s New “Word Gets Around” is a Must-listen Concept Album

Forget everything you think you know about pop albums. Longboat ’s Word Gets Around isn’t here to soundtrack your breakup or pump you up on the treadmill. It’s here to make you think—then dance a little weirdly while doing it.

The avant-garde composer-slash-pop provocateur has released 32 albums and counting, but Word Gets Around feels like a new chapter in an already wild book. The songs aren’t just songs—they’re micro-fictions, complete with protagonists, unresolved dilemmas, and sonic twists that defy expectation. If you’re used to predictable verse-chorus-verse structures, buckle up: Longboat doesn't play by those rules. In fact, he says rule-breaking is “the only way things get done.”

Tracks like “Euro vs. Disco” blend campy dance tropes with haunting suspense—think Saturday Night Fever scored by Goblin. Word Gets Around is a short story collection, a sonic puzzle, a challenge to lazy listening. And for the casual stumbler who finds Longboat without context? “Welcome! There’s something for you here. Stay as long as you want.”

He’s not just breaking musical boundaries—he’s rebuilding them from scratch. One weird, wonderful, head-spinning record at a time.