punk
My Exclusive Interview With Jane Rey
From ghost sightings in Raleigh to photoshoots with gothic metal bands, Jane Rey's had a lot of adventures in her career. Her photography helps local bands get more exposure and relive their best performances, and while not every photographer is up to the challenge, Rey's skills allow her to capture the perfect shot in the midst of the rowdiest crowds and darkest venues. Luckily, she doesn't hide her secrets from the public; in fact, she was willing to go in depth for an interview that may transform the way you think about music photography.
By Kaitlin Shanks5 days ago in Beat
My relaxing songs
Songs that help me relax and to escape the world are ones that would work for almost no one else. I relax to the most aggressive songs around, I also went to concerts to relax to aggressive live bands till poor health stopped it. Even though I am getting old the music hasn't changed, in fact its probably become more extreme over the years.
By ASHLEY SMITH11 days ago in Beat
Sinister Fate: A First‑Hand Look at Chicago’s Long‑Running Shock‑Rock Trio. Content Warning.
There’s a certain kind of band that doesn’t just play music — they survive it. They bleed into it. They build something out of the chaos life hands them and then scream it back into the world with amps turned up high enough to rattle the bones of anyone standing too close. That’s Sinister Fate.
By Syl De'Vil12 days ago in Beat
10 Obscure 90s Alternative Rock Tracks With an Emo Tinge. Top Story - October 2026.
While grunge went mainstream in the 90s, hundreds of pop-punk, post-hardcore and early-emo bands were bubbling under the radar, waiting for their genre to have its turn in the spotlight. Unfortunately, many of these bands dissolved before the culture shifted in the mid-2000s. We can't go back in time and change the course of history, but we can enjoy their albums today--and I think it's time for the Internet to appreciate what these groups contributed to the music world.
By Kaitlin Shanks15 days ago in Beat
Notes from the Mind Palace.
Music doesn’t just “inspire” me. It rewires me. It grabs my skull like it’s trying to tune a radio, and suddenly every part of me snaps into alignment. My thoughts stop tripping over each other. My nerves stop buzzing. The world gets quieter, even when the volume is stupidly loud. I don’t listen to music — I use it. The louder the music gets, the quieter those internal voices become — the ones that try to tell me I’m nothing, the ones that show up when I’m tired or hurting or stretched too thin. Volume becomes a shield. Bass becomes a boundary. A song becomes the thing that steps between me and the parts of my mind that don’t always play fair. It even helps with the autoimmune pain. Not in some magical “healing frequency” way — just in the way drowning in sound gives me something stronger to focus on than the ache. When the music is loud enough, my body stops screaming for a minute. I get a little space. A little breath. A little control. It’s the switch that flips me from “overstimulated parent with seven kids doing parkour through my sanity” to “feral writer pacing the room like a crow deciding which shiny object to steal.” If the song hits right, my whole brain goes cinematic. I stop seeing words and start seeing scenes: fog rolling in, headlights cutting through it, someone yelling in the distance, maybe something crawling out of the dark that shouldn’t exist. Music is the fuse that lights all of that. People think playlists are just background noise. Mine are battle plans . Each song is a mood, a memory, a weapon. Some tracks drag me back to Maine. Some drag me into the fog. Some drag me into the parts of my head I don’t talk about unless I’m writing. And some songs hit so hard I feel like I’m remembering a life I didn’t actually live. Music is the only thing that can match the chaos in my head without getting drowned out. It’s the one thing that keeps me steady. It’s the one thing that makes the stories come out clean instead of tangled. Music doesn’t just affect me. It possesses me. And honestly, I let it — because it’s one of the few things that makes the noise inside me survivable. Music doesn’t just affect me — it kidnaps me. It drags me by the hair into whatever universe it feels like throwing me into. And the louder it is, the quieter everything else gets. The voices that tell me I’m nothing? They get smothered under layers of distortion and screaming. They can’t compete with a sonic avalanche. I listen too loud everywhere. Car? Loud enough to rattle the bolts out of the doors. Shower? Loud enough the shampoo vibrates. Headphones? Weak. Earbuds? Pathetic. Party speaker? Coward. Nothing gets loud enough. So I keep turning it up anyway. Because when Yeah Yeah Yeahs — “Y Control” hits, something in my chest snaps awake. It’s like someone kicked the generator in my soul and yelled RUN . When Tegan and Sara — “Dark Come Soon” comes on, the world finally dims enough for me to breathe. Tiger Army — “Valley of Dreams” drowns the autoimmune pain under rhythm and pulse. Choking Victim — “In My Grave” lights a match in my ribcage and tells the darkness to fight back. Rancid — “St. Mary” is every too‑fast drive I’ve ever taken. Bad Brains — “F.V.K.” is adrenaline in audio form. Talking Heads — “Psycho Killer” is the part of my brain that laughs at the chaos, and shakes her butt a little at the sound. Social Distortion — “Far Behind” is grit and memory. something I would rather keep to myself. Bad Religion — “Generator” is the spark that keeps me writing. reminds me that there's more than what you see. Dramarama — “Anything, Anything” is the scream I never let out and the song I sing every time I feel like I could fall in love. then remind myself that love... its not for me. Then there’s The Church — “Reptile” , crawling under my skin like electricity. And Misfits — “Devils Whorehouse” , kicking open the door to the feral part of my brain. But you want chaos? Here’s chaos: Otep — “Special Pets” makes my blood feel like it’s boiling. It’s the one that shuts the internal voices up because they know they can’t compete with that kind of rage. Tool — “The Pot” hits like someone dropped a brick through my skull and rearranged the furniture inside. Mudvayne — “Dig” isn’t a song — it’s a detonation. It’s the moment the world goes white‑hot and I stop feeling anything except the beat. Volbeat — “Still Counting” is the soundtrack of every time I’ve said “I’m fine” while absolutely not being fine. Marilyn Manson — “Kill 4 Me” slinks through my nerves like a threat wrapped in velvet. Chevelle — “Take Out the Gunman” is the pulse that keeps me upright when everything hurts. Incubus — “Nice to Know You” is the moment I slam the door on the past and don’t look back. A Perfect Circle — “Magdalena” turns my brain into a cathedral full of ghosts. Straight Line Stitch — “Conversion” is the part of me that refuses to die, even when everything else is screaming. Wage War — “High Horse” is the moment I stop apologizing for being loud, chaotic, messy, and alive. "Teeth" the song that reminds me exactly where I stand with those in my life. These songs aren’t just tracks — they’re weapons . They’re shields. They’re pressure valves. They’re the only things loud enough to drown out the parts of me that try to drag me under. Music is the only thing that matches the chaos in my head without getting swallowed by it. It’s the one thing that keeps me upright. It’s the one thing that makes the stories come out clean instead of tangled.
By Syl De'Vil23 days ago in Beat
14 Songs I Found on a Burned CD from 2007
Before streaming took over, you had a few options for listening to your favorite songs: waiting for the song to play on the radio, trying to catch the music video on TV or paying $15 for a CD that might have only one good track. As a child, I fantasized about owning a CD that magically played all my favorite songs. Unfortunately, this seemed like a fairy tale until Napster and Limewire disrupted the music industry, allowing users to download virtually any song for free--albeit illegally.
By Kaitlin Shanksabout a month ago in Beat
7 Worst Rock Bands of the 2010's
It has been nearly a decade since I published my lists of the 7 worst rock bands of the 2000's and 1990's, and I am pleased to announce that I have spent the intervening years becoming older, wiser and only marginally less interested in complaining about music. This time around, we are moving into the 2010's: a decade in which rock music continued its gradual retreat from the center of popular culture while pop, hip-hop and electronic music happily took over what remained.
By Matt Knight3 months ago in Beat
Exploring the Music of GreenHouse 2
The Exploration For about 25 years my musical partner, Jose, and I had taken different paths. He joined a new band called Hundred Acre Wood, and I formed a hard rock band called the Thunder Lizards and then sang with a Gospel choir.
By Rick Henry Christopher 3 months ago in Beat
