The Predatory Wasp
Lots of good music out today but this is the bleakest aka the best. Taken from the new album antichamber which sees him stepping away from the full-band setup, focusing instead on stripped-back electronics and acoustic textures. Ideal listening for the bleak midwinter.
I just read a review that compared Night Tapes’ latest single to Boards of Canada, and no, that’s absolute nonsense, but I’m still very happy to see new material from my favourite musical discovery of last year. Television ticks all the boxes I need it to; dreamy, nostalgic, electro-pop fare that hints towards a debut album in 2025. Fingers crossed.
Since their 2019 debut, Glasgow duo Cloth have carved out a space between dream pop and post-rock, with 2023’s Secret Measure one of my favourite LPs of the year . Now the Swinton twins are back with Golden, the first taste of their upcoming album Pink Silence, due in April. Stripped-back yet emotionally loaded, the track leans into the quiet devastation of a breakup – hazy guitars, whispered vocals, and that signature Cloth restraint making every moment feel weightier.
In 2018 Sam Barker released his Debiasing EP and pretty much changed the techno game. He wasn’t the first to do away with kick drums, but with Look How Hard I’ve Tried especially he demonstrated just how powerful restraint could be. His recently announced second album Stochastic Drift now sees Barker creating tracks with a fresh deftness and by “letting go of expectations”, and the first single Reframing is fucking magnificent, although if I was being super critical I reckon it could be at least twice as long. Roll on April.
The Berlin-based artist on a song that inspires her to let go
The premise of One Track Mind is pretty simple: I ask artists to pick one track that means a lot to them – either something they’ve discovered recently, something that’s been with them for years, or one that reminds them of a specific time in their life or career – and tell me what makes it so special to them. I get to talk to the artists I love, and they get to talk about the artists they love. Love all round!
Anna Erhard’s music exists in that hazy space between indie rock and offbeat pop, where dry wit and deadpan delivery meet angular guitars and restless beats. Originally from Switzerland, now based in Berlin, she first caught attention with Basel’s folk-leaning Serafyn before stepping out solo, swapping acoustic delicacy for something more unpredictable.
Her latest album, Botanical Garden, is a further evolution of her idiosyncratic sound—more wired, more playful, with Anna turning mundane observations into strangely addictive earworms. The title hints at something lush, but Erhard’s garden is full of overgrown thoughts and half-remembered conversations, set to clattering rhythms and sun-faded synths. Tracks like “Horoscope” and “Teenage Earworm” toy with nostalgia but refuse to settle into it, while “170” turns a casual argument over someone’s height into a hook-laden, side-eyed anthem.
For her One Track Mind selection, Anna has picked out a song the humor and charm of which is reflected in much of her own work.
The opening track from Oklou’s new album choke enough is pitch-perfect: icy, sparse beats, billowing melodies and her hushed, gently autotuned vocal. It will have a hard job to surpass her exceptional debut Galore, but signs are good so far.
“It is a constant and newfound and likely lifelong journey to stay in touch with myself”
Brooklyn-based singer-songwriter Camille Schmidt has quickly carved out a space for herself in the indie-folk world with her raw, introspective songwriting. Her debut EP, Good Person, released in June last year, introduced her deeply personal storytelling, exploring themes of shame and perfectionism with an acoustic, intimate sound.
Since then, Schmidt has expanded her sonic palette, embracing elements of punk and synth-pop on her excellent debut full-length album, Nude #9, which arrived last month.
In her interview for TPW, Camille reflects on the shift in her musical style, the personal experiences that shaped Nude #9, the challenges of navigating vulnerability in songwriting, the pitfalls about writing about people you know, and the awkward conversations that follow.
The themes on Nude #9 span everything from queer identity to mental health and familial relationships. How did you navigate balancing such deeply personal topics without feeling overwhelmed or overly exposed in the process?
Oh yeah yeah great question. I felt more exposed when I originally wrote the songs, when the people close to me were hearing some of my thoughts and experiences for the first time. That felt scary. But the experiences themselves, most of them I had processed pretty fully before writing about them. And I will say that the songs are, yes, very personal, but there was a lot that I intentionally did not include: verses I took out, songs I didn’t put on the album because they were too personal to have out in the world.
I can’t quite get over how great this is; without doubt one of his best songs to date. Completely ridiculous. For the full experience listen to the segue from the previous album track. Just astonishingly good.
“My recent work is about the potential for transformation, finding or creating a space for that to take place.“
As Pefkin, Gayle Brogan crafts slow-burning, devotional soundscapes that feel less composed than conjured – ritualistic folk hymns steeped in the rhythms of landscape and seasonal shift. Also known for her work in Burd Ellen, Greenshank, and Meadowsilver, Brogan’s solo output exists in a more liminal space, where drone, voice, and texture dissolve into something elemental.
Her latest album, The Rescoring, was written in the autumn of 2023, as she prepared to uproot from Glasgow to Sheffield. Its three longform pieces map the psychic and physical contours of change. Working with a deliberately restricted toolkit – synth, voice, and viola, an instrument she had never played before – Brogan embraced immediacy, layering each track in a single take.
Each composition functions as a kind of sonic sigil: one piece reflects on the land she left behind, another on the place she was moving to, and the final track, Change, contemplates transformation itself. The result is a record that doesn’t just document transition but enacts it, lingering in the fertile instability between past and future.
What drew you to the viola as an instrument for this album, especially as it was your first time playing it?
I can answer that in two words – John Cale. I’ve played violin since I was 7 but always focused on the lower end of that instrument, and more recently manipulating that sound by pitch-shifting it down. It’s obviously similar to play but you need to extend your fingers more. I love all the scratch and scrape sounds, and the viola just does it better. I suspect cello does it even better but that’s more of a workout for the fingers and wouldn’t fit in my car!.
Written and recorded in a repurposed fish-packaging factory in the remote Icelandic village of Stöðvarfjörður, Kathryn Mohr’s Waiting Room is an eerie and intimate exploration of solitude. Her debut LP for The Flenser, it’s sparse yet deeply affecting, built from skeletal guitar lines, occasional piano, and field recordings that capture Iceland’s stark beauty. Songs drift between ghostly folk and surrealistic soundscapes, with Mohr’s vocals hovering between detached murmurs and visceral intensity.
The Predatory Wasp 