ifitbeyourwill Podcast

Stornoway make the kind of indie music that refuses to sit still: folk one minute, orchestral, wild and wonderfully odd the next. After splitting, regrouping and finding their way back to each other, the Oxford band return with *Beyonder* — a record packed with birds, oceans, memory and big questions. Oli Steadman and Brian Briggs talk beginnings, breakups, folk songs, conservation, Ladysmith Black Mambazo and why, after all these years, Stornoway still sound gloriously like Stornoway.https://www.stornowayband.com/Send us Fan MailSupport the showlinktr.ee/colleyc

Jacob Brodovsky joins If It Be Your Will to talk about Tell the Kids We Tried, the strange business of making art, and the increasingly ambitious project of keeping it together. We get into songwriting, fatherhood, community, climate dread, and why Canadian indie music seems uniquely qualified to make existential crises sound charming. There’s melancholy, wit, guitars, and just enough optimism to keep the whole thing from collapsing. A smart, funny conversation with one of Canada’s quietly great songwriters—and proof that “we tried” can be both a shrug and a pretty decent philosophy.http://www.jacobbrodovsky.com/Send us Fan MailSupport the showlinktr.ee/colleyc

Two records in two years, and GVTH DVDDY are clearly not slowing down. Their latest self-titled album pushes the sound even further into the dark—massive guitars, strange textures, raw emotion, and songs that hit with the weight of lived experience. On this episode, we go back to Kevin Robinson’s years in Viva Voce, trace the path that led to GVTH DVDDY, and get into what happens when a band keeps pushing forward instead of looking backward. Heavy, hypnotic, epic, and completely human—this is GVTH DVDDY at full volume.http://gvthdvddy.com/Send us Fan MailSupport the showlinktr.ee/colleyc

Johanna Samuels makes songs that can turn a tiny memory into something that suddenly feels enormous. On this episode, we get into Sorry, Kid, revisiting old songs, getting older, the weirdness of memory, and how the places and people in our lives keep finding their way into our music. Johanna is thoughtful, funny, and refreshingly honest about the messy process of making sense of the past while still moving forward. A great conversation with a songwriter who knows how to make the personal feel universal—and a lot of fun along the way.https://www.johannasamuels.com/Send us Fan MailSupport the showlinktr.ee/colleyc

What happens when a non-binary, trans artist comes back to country music and refuses to leave anything out? On Assigned Country Singer At Birth, Rae Spoon puts trans lives, disability, harm reduction, religious trauma, solidarity and colonialism alongside the trucks, beer and heartbreak traditionally associated with the genre. On *If It Be Your Will*, we get into why country still matters, what happens when you make music outside the boundaries of expectation, and what it means to claim a genre—and a country—that hasn’t always made room for you.https://raespoon.ca/Send us Fan MailSupport the showlinktr.ee/colleyc

Darren Hayman's been at this for three decades, and he's still treating songwriting like a puzzle he hasn't solved. Best known for fronting Hefner — the band a record label basically forced into existence by asking "is this a band or just you?" — Hayman's gone on to release records governed by self-imposed rules: witch trials, place names, entire concept records where the research threatens to swallow the songs whole. On this episode, he talks getting jumped after a gig, turning a fractured skull into The Violence, and the mild indignity of people treating your trauma like content. Also: 10,000 unfinished voice memos, an "Archivist" untangling his back catalog, and a theory that bands should die young. Not a comeback story — a guy who never stopped.https://hefnet.com/Send us Fan MailSupport the showlinktr.ee/colleyc

Four albums deep, Toronto's Kiwi Jr. arrive at Blowin' Up by doing something quietly radical: playing it live, together, in a room. Jeremy Gaudet traded the tight compression and Pro Tools tinkering of past records for the sound of four people breathing the same air—guitar solos left unswapped, drums left unmoved. The result opens up where earlier Kiwi Jr. records clenched, trading whimsical, pop-culture-soaked lyricism for something more spacious and unguarded. Gaudet talks candidly about writing from title first, riff last, and the Neil Young listening sessions that shaped the room-sound instinct. Out August 7th, it's the sound of a band trusting the take.Send us Fan MailSupport the showlinktr.ee/colleyc

Amelia Day’s EGO TRIP is country music with the safety rails ripped off—part heartbreak, part self-interrogation, and part refusal to play by somebody else’s rules. Amelia isn’t interested in sanding down the messy edges: the songs move between country, indie rock, and pop while wrestling with identity, desire, ego, and what it means to be seen. On this episode of If It Be Your Will, we get into the emotional wreckage behind EGO TRIP, reclaiming country as a queer space, and the strange freedom that comes from making music on your own terms. It’s sharp, vulnerable, and unapologetically Amelia.https://www.ameliadaymusic.com/Send us Fan MailSupport the showlinktr.ee/colleyc

For more than a decade, Monster Rally has occupied a curious corner of contemporary music, where faded postcards, forgotten library records, and golden-age hip-hop production dissolve into richly imagined landscapes. On Echoes of the Emerald Sands, Ted Feighan opens that world to other voices for the first time, inviting collaborators including LEISURE, TV Girl, Sessa, Jordana, Mei Semones, and even the timeless presence of Henry Mancini into his meticulously assembled sonic atlas. The result is less a departure than an expansion—a record that blurs collage, memory, and fantasy while asking how place can be conjured from sound alone. We explore the art of sampling, world-building, and the strange beauty of music that seems to exist outside of time.http://monster-rally.com/Send us Fan MailSupport the showlinktr.ee/colleyc

Some artists write songs. Colin MacIntyre seems to collect entire lives. For more than 25 years, the man behind Mull Historical Society has turned grief, small-town stories, oddball observations, and big melodies into one of Scotland's most distinctive catalogues. Along the way he's become an award-winning novelist, playwright, and the kind of creative who somehow makes writing a musical seem like a perfectly reasonable side project. His latest album, In My Mind There's a Photograph, takes memories shared by some of the world's best writers and transforms them into songs that are funny, moving, and deeply human. We talk about memory, storytelling, growing up on Mull, and why the best songs often begin with someone else's story.http://mullhistoricalsociety.com/Send us Fan MailSupport the showlinktr.ee/colleyc

There are artists who make records, and then there are artists who seem to build entire worlds. On this episode of If It Be Your Will, Nina Winder-Lind joins us to discuss Wild Love, a debut solo album that feels both intimate and expansive. From growing up in Sweden and discovering music through Led Zeppelin and a teenage gang of misfits, to finding a creative home with The New Eves, Nina reflects on mythology, poetry, collaboration, and why the most personal songs often become the most universal.https://transgressiverecords.com/artist/nina-winder-lind/Send us Fan MailSupport the showlinktr.ee/colleyc

Montreal has always known how to make great punk bands, and General Chaos are proving the tradition is in very good hands. Formed when they were just twelve years old, the trio has quickly evolved from local curiosity to one of Canada's most exciting young punk acts. On this episode of If It Be Your Will, Constantin Blondy joins me to talk about Can't Please 'Em All, growing up in Montreal's legendary punk scene, DIY culture, songwriting, Pouzza Fest, and why honesty—not nostalgia—is keeping punk alive for a new generation. https://stomprecords.com/bands/general-chaos/Send us Fan MailSupport the showlinktr.ee/colleyc

Chicago singer-songwriter Max Subar joins If It Be Your Will to discuss his stunning debut album, Anything Could Be, released on Merge Records. We explore the quiet power of solitude, trusting instinct over perfection, and how a frozen lakeside retreat became the foundation for an intimate, expansive record. Max reflects on collaboration, vulnerability, and embracing uncertainty, revealing how the album became both a personal transformation and the beginning of an exciting new chapter in his career. linktr.ee/maxsubarSend us Fan MailSupport the showlinktr.ee/colleyc

Jaco Jaco's music exists in that rare space where groove and introspection become inseparable. Formerly of the Oklahoma indie-rock band Sports, Jacob Theriot has steadily carved out a solo identity rooted in warm bass lines, psychedelic textures, and songs that wrestle with uncertainty without ever losing their sense of joy. On the heels of his new album, On the Levee, Jacob joins If It Be Your Will to talk about leaving behind the only band he'd ever known, rebuilding his life in Philadelphia, finding confidence as a vocalist, and why the meaning of his songs often reveals itself only after they're written. It's a conversation about creative reinvention, trusting instinct over certainty, and discovering that the best records aren't built on answers—they're built on curiosity.Send us Fan MailSupport the showlinktr.ee/colleyc

Chicago's Widemouth joins the podcast to explore the friendships at the heart of their remarkable debut, No Gasoline. Mak Carnahan and Jamie Eder reflect on finding collaborators through a simple flyer, writing songs rooted in memory and community, recording with trust instead of perfection, and why the quiet moments between people often make the most enduring music. It's a thoughtful conversation about growing up, staying grounded, and building a band that feels like home.https://bfan.link/no-gasoline-albumSend us Fan MailSupport the showlinktr.ee/colleyc

Some records don't age—they deepen. Nearly thirty years after Knife in the Water quietly reshaped the edges of alt-country and slowcore, Aaron Blount joins ifitbeyourwill to revisit the landscapes that first inspired the band and the memories that still echo through its songs. It's a conversation about Austin before it changed, music that refuses easy categories, and the strange privilege of watching old songs find new lives in new listeners.Send us Fan MailSupport the showlinktr.ee/colleyc

Some debut albums arrive with the urgency of a first statement. Chinook feels different—it carries the weight of years spent listening, collaborating, and quietly becoming. On this episode, Mallory Hawk reflects on a childhood soundtracked by records and military helicopters, the winding road through New York's DIY underground, and the moment she stopped writing for everyone else and trusted her own instincts. It's a thoughtful conversation about memory, resilience, and the beautiful uncertainty that fuels great songs.https://www.malloryhawk.art/Send us Fan MailSupport the showlinktr.ee/colleyc

Josaleigh Pollett has quietly become one of indie music's most compelling voices, expanding from intimate folk confessionals into lush, emotionally charged songs where synths, noise, and vulnerability coexist. On this episode of ifitbeyourwill, we discuss the making of If I Let It Quiet, recording across continents with longtime collaborator Jordan Watko, the strange gift of physical distance, and why learning to be seen may be the hardest—and most rewarding—part of making art.Josaleigh ’s https://linktr.eeSend us Fan MailSupport the showlinktr.ee/colleyc

This week on ifitbeyourwill, Andrew Sa joins the podcast to talk about American Rough, his striking debut on Bloodshot Records. We trace a path from childhood karaoke nights and family musical roots to country music, identity, belonging, and the voices that shaped him along the way. It's a conversation about finding your place in a tradition while making room for something entirely your own.https://www.andrewsamusic.com/Send us Fan MailSupport the showlinktr.ee/colleyc

On this episode of ifitbeyourwill Podcast Jason Edmonds of Magic Castles joins us for a conversation that begins in a basement record collection filled with psychedelic treasures and winds its way to Realized, the band's latest album. Along the way, we talk about the enduring pull of 60s psych, building a musical universe outside the spotlight, recording in Minnesota, and why Magic Castles continue to make music that feels less like a collection of songs and more like a place to disappear into. A thoughtful, cosmic conversation with one of modern psych's most quietly compelling voices.Send us Fan MailSupport the showlinktr.ee/colleyc

For Canadians who came of age somewhere along the Montréal–Toronto corridor, Charlotte Cornfield’s music carries a particular resonance. On this episode of ifitbeyourwill, the Toronto songwriter reflects on the cities that shaped her, the Plateau music scene that made a life in music feel possible, and the long road from jazz drums at Concordia to releasing Hurts Like Hell on the legendary Merge Records.What unfolds is a conversation about creative practice, parenthood, community, and the strange act of looking back at your younger self with equal parts tenderness and humour. Charlotte discusses recording the album live off the floor with a hand-picked band, collaborating with artists she deeply admires, and finding new freedom in songwriting by letting go of the need to always be the narrator of her own stories.Part music conversation, part Canadian cultural geography, this is a thoughtful look at how places, people, and time shape the songs we carry with us long after they've been written.Send us Fan MailSupport the showlinktr.ee/colleyc

Evan Redsky grew up on Mississaugi First Nation, on the north shore of Lake Huron, between Sault Ste. Marie and Sudbury — a small community of maybe 500 people, and a history much larger than that. Four generations of his family attended the Cecilia Jeffrey Residential School. His great-grandfather James was the last elder to hold their community's birch bark scrolls before they were dispossessed by the Glenbow Museum. Redsky carries that lineage into everything: the punk fury of Indian Giver, and the quieter, harder work of his solo music — Canadiana-rooted folk that sits closer to Neil Young than Nashville, and closer to truth than either. His 2024 album The Language of Fishermen and the recent single "Red Dress," drawn from losses he witnessed working at a Toronto First Nations youth centre, are artifacts in the fullest sense — stories left behind for the next generation to find.Send us Fan MailSupport the showlinktr.ee/colleyc

Montreal’s Second Body returns with up and coming release Gift Horse, a record born from curiosity, confidence, and the willingness to let songs become something unexpected. In this conversation, songwriter and former drummer Yann explores the leap from the back of the stage to the front, the creative freedom found in surrendering control, and the balancing act of music, family, and everyday life. We dive into songwriting as discovery, the vibrant Montreal music community, and why some of the best songs arrive when you simply keep showing up and listening.Send us Fan MailSupport the showlinktr.ee/colleyc

On this episode of ifitbeyourwill, zzzahara talks about the new album Distant Lands — a record shaped by distance, emotional drift, and the search for connection inside everyday uncertainty. The conversation moves through formative musical memories, relationships, identity, and the comfort of making songs that don’t try to hide their bruises. From discovering emotion through the Selena soundtrack to embracing vulnerability in their songwriting, zzzahara reflects on creating music that feels lived-in, intimate, and deeply human. A thoughtful conversation about longing, memory, and finding clarity inside the noise.Send us Fan MailSupport the showlinktr.ee/colleyc

Cincinnati's Sungaze make the kind of shoegaze where the haze finally lifts. On this episode, married duo Ivory Snow and Ian Hilvert trace the unlikely arc from death-metal speed runs to restraint—the notes you don't play—and the slow build toward a sound with intent. They talk Slowdive and Tame Impala, a homemade guitar gifted for a 26th birthday, and the quiet domestic alchemy of writing as a couple. Their new record, I Am No Longer Afraid of Heights, lands May 22nd, ahead of a June tour through New York and Boston.Send us Fan MailSupport the showlinktr.ee/colleyc

Blending dream-pop haze, indie folk intimacy, and jazz-inflected songwriting, After Ours creates music that feels suspended between memory and late-night confession. On Imaginary Friend, Kayla Janowitz folds soft textures, diaristic lyrics, and understated hooks into songs that linger long after they end. In this conversation, she reflects on learning jazz standards with her brother, navigating perfectionism in studio, and the emotional residue that shapes her writing. What emerges is a thoughtful discussion about nostalgia, identity, and the strange beauty of becoming someone new while still carrying older versions of yourself forward. A great listen for all aspiring musicians.Send us Fan MailSupport the showlinktr.ee/colleyc

A wide-ranging conversation with Michael Feuerstack that traces the arc from Snail House bedroom recordings to a decades-long solo practice shaped by collaboration and quiet persistence. He reflects on how songs emerge—sometimes as fragments, sometimes as loops you can’t shake—and what it means to stay open enough to follow them. Moving through Montréal’s indie community and his own shifting identity as an artist, the episode lands on a simple throughline: make the work, finish it, and put it into the world.Send us Fan MailSupport the showlinktr.ee/colleyc

Marc Ostermeier and Tanya Maus of the cult shoegaze duo Should stop by for their first ever podcast interview to celebrate the deluxe reissue of Feed Like Fishes, out now via Numero Group.From basement 8-tracks in early 90s Austin to a new generation of fans discovering their music on Instagram — Should's story is one worth hearing. Marc breaks down his obsessive approach to crafting atmospheric sound, Tanya reflects on finding her voice in unexpected places, and both drop a tantalizing hint about new music.Thirty years later, Should still sounds like nothing else.Available on Bandcamp. Go give it a listen.Send us Fan MailSupport the showlinktr.ee/colleyc

More than a decade into Common Holly, Brigitte Naggar still writes the way she did as a teenager — quietly, in her bedroom, not quite ready to let anyone hear. On this episode, Chris sits down with the Montreal songwriter to talk about Anything Glass (June 2025) and its companion EP They Will Draw Halos Around Our Heads (February), two records that feel like siblings.Brigitte talks about going back to the piano for the first time since she was a kid, letting poems turn into songs without forcing them, and her long run with producer Devon Bate (Jean-Michel Blais, Jeremy Dutcher) — a collaborator so unshowy you stay with him for ten years because he just gets it. She's warm on Montreal too: friendships that go back fifteen years, monthly jams with Ada Lea and Cedric Noel, and the quiet reset Common Holly and the rest of the city's scene went through after the pandemic.Also: why the slow songs landed hardest this time, a Left of the Dial date in Rotterdam, and some loose hints at what comes next — maybe an all-vocal record, maybe something built around cello. Nothing rushed. Whatever feels right.Send us Fan MailSupport the showlinktr.ee/colleyc

The Leaf Library have spent two decades quietly building one of indie music's most singular worlds — and their fourth album, After the Rain, Strange Seeds, might be their finest yet. ifitbeyourwill sits down with Matt, the band's driving force, to trace a journey that began with a Stereolab ad in Reading and wound through DIY networks, John Peel plays, and six years of painstaking work on a record that finally feels like vindication. They talk craft, collaboration, and the particular delusion it takes to finish an album. Stay for the song.Send us Fan MailSupport the showlinktr.ee/colleyc

Bristol's The New Cut have built their grungy, clunky, twangy world from the outside in — and frontman Henry Gerrard wouldn't have it any other way. On this episode, he sits down with ifitbeyourwill to trace the band's DNA: OCD, social anxiety, and the particular relief of finding your people in a room full of outsiders. They dig into the new EP, the strange paradox of performing your most vulnerable self to strangers, and why their live show hits hardest when there's nothing left to prove.Send us Fan MailSupport the showlinktr.ee/colleyc

ifitbeyourwill Podcast sits down with Karina Gill of San Francisco indie band Cindy to discuss their forthcoming album Another Country, out May 2026. From stumbling upon an abandoned guitar in a basement to touring France, England, and an upcoming Japan trip, Karina reflects on the unlikely journey of five-plus records and a slow-burning, dreamy sound that keeps surprising even her. They dig into the organic, tape-recorded making of the new album — fresh takes, minimal rehearsal, and a subtle country spirit woven throughout. A warm conversation about music, nerves, and gratitude.Send us Fan MailSupport the showlinktr.ee/colleyc

Episode 168 — Jay Hammond brings Trippers & Askers to the show from Durham, North Carolina, ahead of his May 2026 album Tried to Do's — a record about grief, healing, and what it means to put things back together. Drawing from indie folk, jazz, and experimental textures, Hammond's sound resists easy categorization. We talk growing up in Jackson, Tennessee, finding his songwriting footing in his early twenties, and why music remains his most honest outlet. East Coast tour dates and a handful of UK shows are on the way.Send us Fan MailSupport the showlinktr.ee/colleyc

ifitbeyourwill Podcast sits down with Adam Morrow of Sister Ray Davies — a shoegaze duo based in the legendary music town of Muscle Shoals, Alabama. They dig into the making of their debut record Holy Island, the duo's deep love of ambient and post-punk sounds, and an upcoming remix EP dropping April 20, 2026. Plus, a  track from Holy Island closes out the episode. Essential listening for fans of atmospheric, genre-defying music.Send us Fan MailSupport the showlinktr.ee/colleyc

The Flip Phones write songs like they're in no hurry to impress you—and that's exactly the point. On this episode, the married duo breaks down Spinning Adrift, an EP that trades algorithmic urgency for melodica hum and earned harmonies. They talk craft: how classical instincts and Britpop muscle share the same arrangement, why the best lyric sometimes waits years to finish itself, and what it means to close a record on its darkest, most necessary note.Send us Fan MailSupport the showlinktr.ee/colleyc

Link 3 recorded their slowcore debut with gaming mics and bathroom fans—now it's soundtracking weddings. James and Sunniva unpack the guitar-first writing, dual-vocal chemistry, and DIY grit behind On The Outline, a record that chose intimacy over polish and found an audience craving exactly that. Send us Fan MailSupport the showlinktr.ee/colleyc

A packed car pointed west, and a travel-size instrument wedged between sleeping bags—this is how records get made when life is crowded and the need to create won’t wait. We sit down with Brian Russ of Hand Gestures to trace the long arc behind a self-titled album that sounds lived-in, melodic, and unforced.Russ maps a route from college shows in Philadelphia to AmeriCorps on Pine Ridge, then into Brooklyn’s warehouse-show ecosystem, where CMJ weekends blurred into community and bands kept each other afloat. Along the way, he built Campers Rule Records—a micro-label with pragmatic ideals: small cassette runs, break-even math, and hands-on help that gets music over the line.The mechanics matter. Voice memos from a cross-country drive became song kernels; late nights with an interface turned sketches into arrangements; a remote drummer locked in the pulse. Brian tracked guitars, bass, keys, and vocals himself, then sequenced the record for an arc that rewards close listening.There’s life in the margins, too—two teachers, two kids, and a creative practice built one quiet hour at a time. We talk rebuilding a live band post-COVID, why the album title became the band’s name, and how to stay sane about press and reach. For anyone invested in DIY recording, Brooklyn indie circuits, sustainable labels, or the alchemy of turning notes into songs, this conversation offers a clear, hopeful blueprint.Send us Fan MailSupport the showlinktr.ee/colleyc

A small amp, a whispered “Beatrice,” and four players standing in a circle, daring the songs not to flinch.In this conversation with Neil Osborne of 54-40, Porto emerges as a document of risk—shadow work, live-wire performances, and the kind of imperfection that lets a song haunt you instead of explaining itself.Send us Fan MailSupport the showlinktr.ee/colleyc

A name can work like a north star. Jason P. Woodbury and the Nightbird Singing Quartet points straight toward songs built for company—melody-first, ensemble-minded, rooted in the desert but restless for elsewhere. We sit with Woodbury to trace the long arc from church songleading and clarinet rehearsals to record-store immersion, music journalism, and a self-titled album that wears its influences lightly and its confidence quietly.He talks about the records that calibrated his ear at Zia Records—the open-sky ache of Big Star, the haunted intimacy of Chris Bell’s I Am the Cosmos, Neko Case’s nocturnal drama, Destroyer’s wry sprawl, and the cosmology of Lee Scratch Perry—and how those discoveries rewired his sense of arrangement and feel.We dig into the making of the record itself: some songs arriving whole, others pieced together from Dropbox shards and rehearsal-room patience. The quartet’s chemistry lifts the material into focus—power-pop hooks catching pedal-steel glow, soul-informed details settling into an alt-Americana, desert-rock atmosphere that feels lived-in rather than posed.Beyond the music, Woodbury explains why he launched Always Happening Records—to put this album out on his own terms and build a flexible home for future ideas, from tactile seven-inches to Bandcamp-first releases. It’s a conversation about time, trust, and the strange joy of hearing a band take a song somewhere you couldn’t have planned.If you’re drawn to independent music made in community—records that breathe, shimmer, and tell you where they came from—this one’s for you. Spin it loud, pass it along to a Big Star or Calexico devotee, and tell us the album that first flipped your lid.Send us Fan MailSupport the showlinktr.ee/colleyc

A melody looping in a hospital hallway. A chorus that took six years to learn its own name. Sitting down with Brad Barr, we talk about writing when life insists on co-author credit—kindness traded for drum lessons, heartbreak turned into breath, and a city that lets a voice arrive on its own time. From Providence to Montreal, Brad and Andrew built a shared language—first as The Slip, then as The Barr Brothers—rooted in groove, generosity, and patience.The focus is Let It Hiss, their first record in eight years, and the clarity that came only after the songs could stand on their own. Jim James adds a spectral lift to “English Harbor.” Elizabeth Powell and Ariel Engle color the margins. Klô Pelgag reframes a verse in French, returning harmonies that feel like a second producer’s hand.There’s tactile joy—cassettes, handheld recorders, chord voicings shared online—and a clear ethic: measure success by honesty, not algorithms. Ahead: Let It Hiss outtakes, North American and European dates, Sleeping Operator finally stirring, and Brad’s first vocal solo record as he learns which songs belong to which home.Send us Fan MailSupport the showlinktr.ee/colleyc

Snow hushes the streets; songs do the same to the head. We open on a coast-to-coast weather check and drift into a story that starts in Philly basements and only really clicks once Emily Yacina loosens her grip. Confidence, she says, was something the scene lent her early on—small rooms, big hearts. Most songs still arrive as a fragment: a phrase, a melodic flicker. Writing becomes a place to set feelings down when there’s nowhere else to put them.There’s a pivot here—from hardline DIY to letting collaborators leave fingerprints. Control gives way to trust. A pianist widens the frame, a violinist pulls a thread, a great engineer sharpens the picture. Emily talks about the awe of unfamiliar studios and the humbling realization that audio engineering is its own deep craft, not just a means to an end. Then comes release-day whiplash: years of work suddenly gone, the quiet after the drop, the itch to check a feed for proof of life. She’s honest about the pressure to “go viral,” and how she learned to measure success by connection instead of metrics.Touring again—after time away—reset the temperature. Nightly rooms, real conversations, and a sense of abundance replaced scarcity. Move your body, move your ideas. Momentum follows motion. She’s carrying that energy into 2026: more sessions, more collaborators, and a steady aim to make songs feel as alive as the feelings that sparked them.If you’re into indie folk with DIY roots, the mechanics of songwriting, and the quiet courage it takes to share something personal, this conversation sketches a practical map for sustainable creativity.If it hits home, follow the show, pass it to a friend who lives for singer-songwriters, and leave a review—so the right ears can find it.Send us Fan MailSupport the showlinktr.ee/colleyc

What if the quickest way to sound like yourself is to stop chasing your heroes? That question sits at the centre of our conversation with Kevin Basko, the mind behind Rubber Band Gun—a project that slides easily between indie rock, psych, and playful concept albums, all shaped by a hands-on, hybrid analog setup where limits become part of the sound.Basko traces his path from backyard lyric notebooks to a sudden elevator text that landed him in Foxygen’s touring band, sharpening his instincts without dulling his DIY core. We dig into RBG25, the self-imposed challenge to release dozens of records in a year, and how working fast reshaped his sense of tempo, arrangement, and when a song is actually done. Along the way, he talks borrowing without imitating, turning tradition into raw material, and why momentum—and not perfection—is the real engine of creative work.Send us Fan MailSupport the showlinktr.ee/colleyc

HighSchool formed during Melbourne’s lockdowns, making songs fast and with intention. In this episode, they talk about starting with images and mood before melody, recording wherever they could, and keeping tempos high so the songs stayed sharp and emotional. We get into how Lily’s shift from drums to synth helped shape the band’s sound, why restraint matters more than polish, and how Sony Ericsson came together in a single day after nearly being dropped. From writing in London to releasing a self-titled debut, this is a conversation about momentum, trust, and finding your sound by keeping things simple.Send us Fan MailSupport the showlinktr.ee/colleyc

A granddad blasting Pink Floyd at school pick-up and a jealous six-year-old’s first guitar lesson—hardly the start of a band, but that’s where Eades began. Frontmen Harry Jordan and Tom O’Reilly trace how a bedroom project became a songwriting engine that produced 50-plus lockdown tracks and the refined Final Sirens Call. From four-mic drum kits and happy-accident compressors to Dylan, Lou Reed, and Wilco-inspired craft, the duo reveal how trust, vetoes, and risk shape their sound. We dig into sequencing headaches, translating dense studio layers to the stage, and chasing the live spark on their next record.For fans of post-punk energy, garage roots, and Wilco-era ambition—this episode dives inside Eades’ engine room.Send us Fan MailSupport the showlinktr.ee/colleyc

From a shy kid singing Christina Aguilera behind a bedroom door to teaching voice at Concordia, Alexandra Levy the power behind Ada Lea has lived every side of finding your sound. In this episode, she talks tendonitis, creative do-overs, and the three-day songwriting challenge that sparked When I Paint My Masterpiece. We dig into mentorship, Montreal roots, and the art of building a music career you can actually live with.If you’ve ever felt late, stuck, or told you’re “not a singer,” this one’s for you.Send us Fan MailSupport the showlinktr.ee/colleyc

A happy mistake at a concert.A guitar rediscovered in the back of a closet.Two students on totally different paths who somehow found the same sound.That’s the origin story of sundayclub, a rural Manitoba duo whose music feels like it was pulled from an ’80s Polaroid—warm, hazy, and quietly intentional. Their new EP, Bannatyne, captures that balance perfectly: pop instincts wrapped in dream-pop atmosphere, four tracks that melt into one continuous mood.When you talk to Courtney Carmichael and Nikki St. Pierre, you get the sense that their process is equal parts chaos and craft. Courtney writes with a diarist’s honesty, often chasing the feeling a moment left behind. Nikki builds the sonic world around those words, leaning on production chops and an obsession with tone. A simple tuning shift to open C cracked something open—suddenly, new harmonies and melodies started falling out of the guitar.They work fast to capture the spark, then slow down for the final stretch, refusing to rush a lyric or sand off a rough edge just to be “done.” That patience shows. Bannatyne isn’t a playlist of singles—it’s a short film in sound, one that breathes and unfolds with intention.Their path to Paper Bag Records came with its own lucky breaks—a well-timed mastering grant, a few key community ties, and a lot of persistence. Listeners have already gravitated toward Nuclear Fallout, a track that wasn’t meant to be the standout but hit something unexpected. Courtney and Nikki say that kind of connection means more than any genre label could.Looking ahead, they’re teasing a reimagined “Last Christmas”, a run of Canadian shows, and new singles that stretch their sound without losing its heart.If you’re into indie pop, dream pop, odd guitar tunings, and the craft behind a cohesive EP, this one’s for you. Stream the episode, spin Bannatyne front to back, and see which moment sticks. And if you love what you hear, share it with a friend—because that’s how good music travels.Send us Fan MailSupport the showlinktr.ee/colleyc

Dream pop isn’t about turning everything down — it’s about tuning everything in. That’s the pulse of our talk with Mirrorball, the Los Angeles duo behind those lush, cinematic songs that somehow still feel like they’re whispering right to you. From the first late-night demo to a surprise label release, their story drifts through noisy beginnings, an obsession with sound, and the quiet confidence that comes with learning when not to play.We get into how they write: Scott starts with grooves, guitars, and synths in Logic. Alex listens, and melodies spill out — sometimes all at once, sometimes over time. Some songs bloom in a day; others sit for months, waiting for the right mood to arrive. Recording, for them, is a kind of home — layering overdubs until the room disappears and only the song remains. Playing live, though, demands something different: less control, more trust. The goal isn’t to be louder, it’s to make people feel. Small choices, big emotion.There’s honesty, too, about what it means to be an indie band now. Without a label, they’ve handled everything themselves — the videos, the press, the endless scroll — keeping things moving with a steady run of singles. Now they’re building toward a full LP, something that captures the whole arc of who they’ve become. With producer Chris Coady’s touch — tiny shifts in timing, arrangements that breathe — the songs pulse and shimmer instead of shout. At home, Alex tracks vocals dry, chasing raw takes; Scott trims the noise, staying closer to what feels real.If you’re drawn to guitars that glow, vocals that drift just out of reach, and rhythms that dance a little behind the beat, this one’s for you. Press play, sink into Red Hot Dust, and stay awhile. If it hits, tell a friend — the dream gets brighter when more people are in it.Send us Fan MailSupport the showlinktr.ee/colleyc

A clarinet in fourth grade doesn’t usually lead to fuzz pedals, pedal steel, and a packed tour van, but that’s the path Brendan Wright of Tiberius traces on Troubadour. We start with the spark—how a quiet kid found a home in melody—and follow the trail to the moment those bedroom songs finally stepped into stage lights. Through it all runs one through-line: honesty. The kind that feels safe when you’re singing alone, and the kind that feels a little dangerous when a room goes silent to hear it.Brendan talks about walking that line between catharsis and the reality of sharing their work. They used to write like they were passing secret notes to themself. Now the notes have to breathe among strangers. They open up about shifting from super-specific diary lines to lyrics built around wider feelings—anxiety, persistence, the weird fog of transition—so more people can slip inside the songs. It doesn’t dull anything; it actually sharpens it. You can hear it in a line like “Why do I try to keep on trying?” and in the way the band lets silence hang before a chorus hits.We dig into the making of Troubadour, from the piece-by-piece construction of Fish in a Pond to focused sessions at The Record Co. in Boston. Drummer Ben Curell, bassist Kelven “KP” Polite , and guitarist Christian Pace helped pull the songs into their live shape, with Nate Scaringi behind the board helping the drums land just right. The result is a sound Brendan jokingly calls “farm emo”—folk bones, a little country dust, and an emo heart—wrapped in those loud-quiet-loud dynamics that feel as much Neil Young as they do modern indie. It’s tender one moment, towering the next, built for small rooms that don’t stay small for long.We close on motion. The northeast run—Burlington, Portland, Boston, Albany, Philly, New York—feels like both a celebration and a goodbye to a set they’ve lived inside for two years. New songs are forming. Brendan’s headspace is shifting again. That’s the promise here: a record that captures exactly where Tiberius is right now, and an artist already leaning toward whatever comes next.If this one hits you, tap follow, share it with a friend who needs a cathartic chorus, and leave a quick review—it helps more listeners discover Tiberius and stories like this.Send us Fan MailSupport the showlinktr.ee/colleyc

A deluxe release hits different when the songs feel like they’ve been kicking around in the dirt for years. On release day for Tear Your Heart Out (Deluxe), we sat down with villagerrr to walk the long, crooked road behind it—a story that starts in a small town, rattles through a red Pontiac Sunfire, and settles into the stubborn, hand-built joy of figuring out recording alone. Mark Scott talks about how long runs in cold air, odd hours cutting concrete, and a phone overloaded with gritty voice memos shaped a 16-track world that blends indie twang, folk warmth, and slowcore quiet. It’s the kind of record that asks to be played in sequence, the way you’d leaf through an old photo album—front to back, smudges and all.We get into the slow shift from solitude to letting other people into the room, and why he only opens the door when the feel is right. The Merce Lemon feature arrived the old-fashioned way: see a set, feel something, and send a message that isn’t coated in industry varnish. Drummer Zane Dway adds heartbeat without sanding the rough edges, while Boone Patrello shows how a single late-night vibe call can lead to parts that sound like they were dug up rather than written. Most of the songs were nearly done before the guests stepped in, which is why the whole thing still sounds unmistakably Villager—one voice, one hand on the wheel, just more colours in the dust.Real life hums in the background too: fans quietly singing the deep cuts, someone shyly handing over a record to sign after an opener slot, the strange feeling of seeing slow growth in places that aren’t algorithms or charts. We map out the Ohio college dates and a December run with Teethe, then lift the tarp on what’s coming next: another album already mastered, still self-recorded in the margins of real jobs and real days, sharper but cut from the same honest cloth.If you care about albums built to be lived with, about DIY recordings that prize feel over polish, and about indie music that smells like cold air, old cars, and real life, this one is for you.Spin the conversation, let the deluxe play straight through, and if it hits you right, follow the show, pass it on, and leave a quick note. It keeps the whole thing moving.Send us Fan MailSupport the showlinktr.ee/colleyc

There’s something beautiful about a guitar line that smiles while the lyric aches — that’s the trick Autocamper pulls off again and again. The Manchester band’s debut What Do You Do All Day? shimmers with that mix of brightness and bruising honesty.Their story feels fittingly accidental: friends of friends, a project that almost happened, and finally a pub meeting that did. Out of that came a lineup stitched from deep-house childhoods, folk-festival summers, and an indie-pop instinct that just feels right. The result is a sound that breathes — light, melodic, a little dreamy, and grounded in real feeling.When we talk about writing without irony, Jack laughs — it’s harder than it sounds. He writes from feeling first, letting words find their place once the music starts to move. Songs might begin as rough acoustic sketches or on a laptop at 2 a.m., but they only really live once the band’s in a room together. Everyone adds something different: the drummer’s electronic sensibility, the little melodic turns, the patience to leave space. It’s what makes the album flow the way it does — shifting vocals, thoughtful pacing, and hooks that sneak up on you later.The reactions have been wild — singalongs in Glasgow, thoughtful notes from fans, and the odd review that missed the point entirely. That last one kicked off a bigger chat about how we listen, how we care, and why honest fanzines still matter.At the heart of it all is sincerity. Autocamper’s not chasing cleverness or cool detachment — they’re after connection. And as they look ahead, they’re set on moving forward, not repeating themselves. The goal: keep it real, keep it human, keep it melodic.If you like your indie rock with heart and a hint of ache, start here.Spin the record, find your moment, and if it hits — tell someone. That’s how good music travels.Send us Fan MailSupport the showlinktr.ee/colleyc