RADIO WRAPPED 2025

ear has become **the** If You Know, You Know band. Name-drop them for some instant clout among people active on Perfectly Imperfect and/or Nina Protocol. (AKA, music snobs.)

The duo seemingly came out of nowhere, amassing 200 thousand monthly listeners on Spotify before their album was even released. They performed at UCLA first in August and again in November and supported Yung Lean at his two shows in Canada. 

I first heard about ear while reviewing the lineup for LA’s one-and-only shoegaze/electroclash festival, And Always Forever (Yes, I know how that sounds). Their set was the highlight of that weekend. I was very charmed.

ear is comprised of fine artists Yaelle Avtan and Jonah Paz. The band was born on the second day of knowing each other at an impromptu open-mic set. They later recorded their first song in a library at Bard College. 

Before that, one half of the duo was an experimental electronic DJ. The other was in a folk-twee band. ear is a marriage of those histories. Each track has its own complex soundscape, built with 

dozens of different synths, snares, and samples. Hot tip: listen to the album with headphones. 

ear songs are tenderhearted in nature. They remind me of Simpler Times, the colder months, my childhood. Holding my subject/object(s) of adoration close to my chest. They deliver sweet lyrics in hushed, deadpan voices. In their titular song, “The Most Dear and The Future,” they whisper-sing: “I wanted to say / I missed you when you walked away.”

But what’s really compelling about ear is in what they don’t tell you. The lyrics fade, and their production leaves a throbbing in your chest – from both the bass and the evocativeness. It’s the experience of talking without words that reminds me of childhood: experiencing life for the first time but lacking the vocabulary to articulate any of it. ear is all about fondness, about acting out.

I’m telling you now – twee indietronica is going to be **the** sound for annoying people in 2026. ear is at the forefront of this movement. Tap in while you still can. 

Standout track: “The Most Dear and The Future”

“You can change…you can change…” – the three syllable melody that Cameron Winter solemnly chants in “Au Pays du Cocaine.” All I can say is that listening to Geese’s Getting Killed did in fact change me.

 Like every 20-something year old, I endured a dragged out, low-commitment situationship with a guy who preaches Dostoevsky and exclusively wears worn-in clothing fit for a carpenter. The silver lining to this was my introduction to Geese, the Brooklyn-based indie rock band that has been taking the music scene by storm. 

At first listen, I thought Getting Killed was good, but it didn’t really speak to me. However, when I went back to Oakland for Thanksgiving break, I found myself gravitating back to the album… again and again. As soon as I knew it, I couldn’t stop listening to the entire album all the way through. Whether I was studying in a cafe or merely walking around the neighborhood, Winter’s rich vocals and the band’s avant-garde instrumentals were blasting through my earbuds everywhere I went. 

Geese’s embrace of noise, something that has seemed to be a lost art in mainstream music, is what really makes Getting Killed so striking. Whether it’s Winter screaming “There’s a bomb in my car!” in “Trinidad,” or the chaotic blend of instruments in the end of “Islands of Men,” this album’s sound is anything but predictable. This project marks a new step in Geese’s legacy, as it is shifting listening experiences and shaping new understandings of what music can be. 

In a recent Instagram post, New York legend Patti Smith shared: “Geese were on the radio…100 Horses, suddenly I felt optimistic.” Smith captures the essence of hope Geese brings to the future of rock. As listeners continue to discover their name, Geese’s impact on the music scene will continue to grow exponentially. 

Standout track: “Half Real”

Labyrinthine by Los Angeles natives Faetooth has that atmospheric, dark, and gloomy feeling that I love in metal. Forming in 2019, this is the band’s second studio album, accompanying their first studio album, Remnants of the Vessel, and their debut EP, … An Invocation. Labyrinthine differs from its predecessors in that it relies less on echoey build-ups and instead delivers a powerful wall of sound from the start. I’ve been a fan since early 2020, and every release has lived up to the last. 

Labyrinthine was released on September 5th, and in these last few months, it has secured a spot in my regular rotation. This album feels like when sadness burns into anger. Faetooth does a great job bringing the genre of doom into the modern sphere by incorporating elements of shoegaze. Fans of bands like Electric Wizard and Windhand will recognize that familiar fuzz screaming its way from the bass and the haunting vocals fighting their way through the sound. One thing that I find unique about this band is how they blend those graceful ghostly vocals with guttural screams. Easily one of my favorite harsh vocals in metal. 

My standout track for the album would be the opening song on the album “Iron Gate”. The moody guitar in the beginning really sets an almost mysterious tone for the album. If you’re looking for a soundtrack to set the mood for your next trudge to class in this recent gloomy weather, give Labyrinthine a listen.

The most obnoxious Asian person you know cheered when this album dropped. Annoying bitches, we are so BACK! (for reference, I am, in fact, an Asian woman)

Hyperpop + electroclash + EDM + indie sleaze — just all this exhilarating, neurotransmitter-flooding, production-maxxed music — has seen such a revival. And god, I love noise music.  

One album, although short, has been on repeat for me in 2025. E by Effie is honestly closer to an EP — with just seven songs and 16 minutes of play time — but that’s nothing to discredit. If you have 20 minutes tomorrow, put it on. 

I was first introduced to Effie through her 2024 track, “미워미워 (I hate you, I hate you).” It leans more K-rnb, almost reminiscent of artists like CAMO and WOODZ. During this time, the 22-year-old South Korean artist had released a slew of singles post her 1st EP, Neon Genesis. However, my interest was peaked when tracks like “SRRY♥” and “down” dropped. It was clear a new sound was coming, blending familiar bouncy pop melodies with bold EDM production. 

Each song on E is so strong alone — so interesting and intricate — yet they all work together immensely well to create a cohesive and compelling EP. “forever (feat. Manaka)” is the perfect dance-ready electronic pop song. Like, yes! A pep in my step has been revived — one that is taking me straight to the club. 

“코카콜라 (coca-cola)” slows the pace down, yet maintains all of the production and direction that defines this album. This ballad-esque tune gives me time to appreciate each carefully crafted piece in the heavily layered instrumentals. 

On the internet, Effie has been deemed the “female Bladee” or “Korean 2hollis.” The song that best exemplifies this comparison has to be “maybe baby.” Featuring kimj’s stellar production, the bombardment of sound is all perfectly detailed and placed. The overall effect is a thumping pulse that never lets up, driving the album toward its conclusion. 

What is most striking to me about E, its collaborators, and the surrounding releases has to be the calibre of music coming out of Asia right now, especially in the underground, rap, hyperpop, edm-scene — however you choose to define it. From producers on this album like kimj and SEBii, to artists like The Deep, jackzebra, and Billionhappy, so much innovative and boundary-pushing music is being dropped. Please listen. 

Standout track: “put my hoodie on” 

It’s difficult for me to think of an artist who’s defined my 2025 anywhere near as much as Olivia Dean. She had been on my radar since her debut album Messy in 2023, but it wasn’t until I heard her stunning voice playing over the Bridget Jones: Mad About the Boy credits earlier this year that I decided to finally see what the hype was all about. Diving into her discography was one of the best decisions I made in 2025, and looking back, it seems incredibly fitting that Bridget Jones, of all people, was the one to properly introduce me to Olivia Dean. There’s a timelessly romantic, yet distinctly British, quality to both the Bridget Jones franchise and Dean’s music. That vulnerable, diaristic approach both women take to their writing radiates warmth and comfort in the way only good romance can. Dean perfectly captured and elevated the classic British comfort she’s known for with my personal favorite album of 2025, The Art of Loving.

Olivia Dean’s silky voice paired with her neo-soul production is a match made in music Heaven, and her ear for heartful yet elegant lyricism is what keeps me coming back for more. There are plenty of great tracks to dance to (like the infectious single “Man I Need”) or soundtrack your aesthetic morning routines, but it’s the equally magnificent deep cuts that bring this album from good to great and modern to timeless. One listen to “A Couple Minutes” should be all it takes to be thoroughly convinced Dean’s 2025 success is much more than just a flash in the pan. An enchanting trance that, from its opening strings to its closing harmonies, conjures the image of Dean as a princess serenading a crowd of forest animals puts her appeal into perspective perfectly. With the charming relatability of Bridget Jones and the dreamy effortlessness of a storybook princess, The Art of Loving truly is “the perfect mix of Saturday night and the rest of your life” — just as Dean prophesied.

Standout track: “A Couple Minutes”

Los Angeles local and lyric genius Audrey Hobert has become an indispensable addition to my music rotation this year. Truthfully, she’s been around for a while. As a longtime collaborator of Gracie Abrams, Hobert has served as a prominent figure in the making of some of Abrams’ biggest hits, including “That’s So True” and “I Love You, I’m Sorry.” But now, she’s no longer just the Audrey that Gracie sometimes name-drops in her songs. This year, Hobert rose as a pop star in her own right. 

She dropped her debut single, “Sue Me,” in early May, and it didn’t take long for the world to catch on. And it makes sense; it’s catchy, lighthearted, relatable, lyrically inventive, and perfectly encapsulates her quirky and honest songwriting. 

While “Sue Me” made me an instant fan, it wasn’t until she released her second single, “Bowling Alley,” that I knew with full confidence she’s a talent to watch. She managed to spin the widely known feeling of fomo into a song centered about a bowling alley. The intentionality of Hobert’s songs is built on her gift for effortlessly turning universal emotions into vivid, specific stories that pull you in instantly.

Then came “Wet Hair,” another single that captures the common desire to appear effortlessly unbothered around people from your past. She walks into a bar with wet hair, signaling she didn’t care enough to waste time getting ready. Yet, her mind is spiraling. It’s clever and so distinctly her. With just these three singles, she had already established her style and garnered millions of listeners eagerly awaiting her debut album. On August 15, 2025, the anticipation came to an end. 

From the witty “Sex and the City,” where she pokes fun at the gap between expectation and reality, to “Chateau,” about how the LA celebrity social scene can feel worse than high school, to “Thirst Trap,” a brilliant meditation on the art and terror of posting one, to “Don’t Go Back to His Ass,” a heartfelt plea for a friend to pick someone better, to “Drive,” a breezy and simple anthem about freedom, Who’s The Clown is smart, charming, and wildly replayable. 

Standout track: “Bowling Alley”

Ever since Men I Trust rocketed to critical and public acclaim off of back-to-back hits, “I Hope to Be Around” (2017) and “Show Me How” (2018), I’ve placed them somewhere on the margins of my mind. Forming in Quebec City in 2012, Men I Trust consists of lead vocalist Emmanuelle Proulx, guitar-and-bass-player Jessy Caron, and keyboard-player Dragos Chiriac, who represented (to me, at least) a sonic solution of intergenerational angst. During the pandemic, when melancholy was sexy, and The Virgin Suicides (1999) had found a new home in the hearts of many a young ingenue, I heard a lot of Men I Trust. Mostly on TikTok. The smooth and self-contained “Show Me How” sounded over tightly-cut and choreographed flickers of young women casting themselves as Lux Lisbon; smoking cigarettes, blowing bubblegum, empty and beautiful. I liked them, in the distant, estranged way you like any artist you first encounter on Tik Tok. They filled a hole in the zeitgeist with dreamy, airy pop rock resin and I respected it, but I assigned no more value to it than that. However, with their latest double-album tour de force, I’ve reevaluated Men I Trust and their presence as one of many fashionably retro indie outfits. With Equus Asinus and Equus Caballus, Men I Trust has gradually migrated from the margins of my mind towards its center, and their release stands as one of my favorites of 2025. 

In March, Men I Trust Tweeted, “Early in the writing and recording process, we realized we had a collection of songs with distinct energies yet equally meaningful to us. became clear that we wanted to release them as two separate entities both from the same genus: Equus Asinus and Equus Caballus.” In March, they released Equus Asinus, a velveteen daydream, Equus Asinus has a wistful intuition, the power of suggestion that does not overwhelm nor obscure. Through its lacy guitar riffs, and jazzy modalities, Equus Asinus is Men I Trust at their best: clever, tempered, and tantalizingly slow. “Girl (2025)” is seductive and slow, a duet sung partially in French that rivals Serge Gainsbourg for extroversion and the artistic mise-en-scene. “I Don’t Like Music” is mellow and morose, winnowing with instrumentation and space at juncture.  

Equus Caballus was released in May and, as promised, the album is a charming compliment to Equus Asinus. Where Asinus is downtempo and relaxed, Caballus is spirited and upbeat. Where Asinus is guitar-laden and oneiric, Caballus is synth-heavy and confident. While I prefer the former, there are plenty of standout tracks on Equus Caballus, from the cool and measured “Billie Toppy (2025)” to the nervesick “To Ease You.”

One could argue that Men I Trust has been married to this sound and concept since their inception, that since they deal in nostalgia and infectious baselines they will always be in a lucrative trade. Though this may be true, who could blame them when the music sounds this good?

Standout track: I Don’t Like Music (Equus Asinus) Standout track: Carried Away (Equus Caballus)

“Lorde doesn’t release music when you want her to. She releases it when you need her to.” 

So the saying goes among her fans. And as a longtime Lorde listener—I first saw her live at the Greek for the “Pure Heroine” tour in 2014—I can confirm that it’s absolutely true. 

Like the rest of the internet, I lost my mind when Lorde shared a sneak peek of her new single “What Was That” in a cheeky TikTok back in April (cue the onslaught of Paul Revere “LORDE IS COMING!” memes and group chats blowing up). Even though this snippet was only fifteen seconds long, I was already hooked on the song’s earworm synth-pop melody and lyrics. Lorde singing about a breakup and being seventeen again? Sign me up! 

But it was her second single, “Man of the Year,” that spoke to me on a deeply personal level. On this track, Lorde delves into her gender fluidity and expanding sense of self in recent years. She expresses fear of never finding someone who will love her for who she truly is but ends on a note of self-acceptance and empowerment. As an individual who exists outside the gender binary, it’s a song that made me feel genuinely seen and understood. “Take my knife and I cut the cord / my babe can’t believe I’ve become someone else / someone more like myself.” 

Leading up to its highly-anticipated release, I knew that Virgin wouldn’t disappoint. And I was right: this album was well worth the four-year wait. From upbeat hits like “Favorite Daughter”—which explores Lorde’s complicated relationship with her mother and fame—to ethereal tracks like “Shapeshifter”—a song about constantly changing your identity in a new romantic relationship—Virgin is a complex work that grapples with grief, vulnerability, rebellion, and self-discovery. But ultimately, it’s a celebration of rebirth. Throughout 2025—a particularly challenging year of my life marked by loss, significant change, and growth—this album proved to be the perfect musical companion. 

So thanks, Lorde. Once again, you were right on time. 

Standout track: “David”

SpongeBob big guy pants okay.