Listening to Paul Louis Villani's new EP, The Other Side of Silence, feels less like pressing play and more like cracking open a locked diary found in a derelict building. It’s a messy, confrontational, and deeply private affair, where industrial-strength riffs grind against lyrics that feel surgically exposed. Villani doesn't write anthems for crowds; he seems to be recording the dissonant hum of his...

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...