I saw a pigeon wearing a tiny top hat yesterday. It has absolutely nothing to do with Rich Allen's new single, "No Pinks", but, honestly, what does? The song unravels like a worn photograph, the edges blurry with regret, a silent conversation shouted in the spaces between plucked guitar strings. Allen, known around Tampa for his poignant songwriting, digs deep, like a fossil hunter...

Well now. Here’s a feeling bottled, or rather, pressed onto a piano key. "Alone." Caitty, out of Margaret River – which, in my head, conjures images of dramatic cliffs and maybe someone losing their favourite hat to the wind, oddly fitting – gives us a stark landscape of sudden departure. https://open.spotify.com/album/05CkW9piuni9Ckoo5PLNWo?si=kom6wwPNRxWYaohA_qaWgA The piano isn't just accompaniment; it feels like the architecture of the emptiness. Chord by...