This list borrows its namesake from an excellent 1999 article in The Wire that put forward 100 albums that had a lasting impact on music and culture even though few ears were tuned. While many of those records have grown in notoriety and acclaim since, we can’t promise to be the whistleblowers for these records’ futures. Nevertheless, we’ve compiled 16 records released deep into the underground we hope will land swaths of listeners in their lifetime. Unburdened by genre or scene, as well as pressure from well-meaning publicists, the following albums were released in between April and October without widespread critical attention, industrial support, or rabid standoms.
Graphic by Shannon McMahon
Amelia’s Best Friend – Amelia’s Best Friend
The titular LP from Amelia’s Best Friend has few lyrics, too many guitars, and arrangements so melancholic it seems as though the five-piece released slow-mo versions of their recordings. As chords stretch to meet an always-late melody and lyrics repeat haphazardly as if to fill dead air, it’s clear that the Austin-based rockers are a bit too slacker, or simply don’t have enough energy, to commit wholeheartedly to the country label.
But it works, sort of like the backyard fire kindled by your drunk friends; structure is precarious and topics of existentialism are imminent. Take the track “Ceebee,” for example, where mortality is confronted in just three simple lines: “Did you know my kid? / He rode the bus that day / That day you took his life.” When listening to Amelia’s Best Friend, the light always seems to be going out, like a slow and steady burn that exhausts the wood until you can no longer see. It’s probably because Amelia’s Best Friend knows the muggy, pitch-black Texas nights can be on the mend, too. – Levi Langley
Bending Your Sauna – Green Tea
You’re punched in the gut by tremendous amounts of low end and a grinding sound like an old crypt door rolling open. A blast of feedback takes you like the Tasmanian Devil. With his new project Green Tea, Harsh Noise veteran Nick Forté has rung in a new age of Harsh Noise. “Bending Your Sauna” blends strung out synth drones, delicate organic textures, and sweeping walls of noise. Forté draws distinct lines with surgical precision between each element and stitches them together like Frankenstein’s monster, contrasting organic with abrasive. This high-fidelity meditative collage culminates in a surprisingly user-friendly noise release, as Forté’s style allows listeners to select individual components of his tracks and view them in the context of the rest.
This maximalist style of composition sets a precedent for Noise to come. While, at times, Forté seems to challenge his listeners with this style, he likewise smothers them with a playful optimism. “Bending Your Sauna” carefully crushes listeners with dense textures, only to uplift them even higher with compassionate outbursts of pure emotion. – Barner Konvicka
Bite the Hand – GIVE ME THE MONEY
Blending electronic, noise, and hardcore elements, GIVE ME THE MONEY’s Bite the Hand is a gem of genre fusion. On the surface, the simpler noise and hardcore aspects are apparent, with fast moving rhythms and intense vocals sliding between chanting, whispering, and screaming. At times, the electronic elements are allowed to shine on their own, when the instruments and vocals pause to make way for them. At points, these electronic aspects also take sharper, higher-pitched forms that give the overall music a sound vaguely reminiscent of a video game soundtrack or the anime theme songs. These compelling and variable amalgamations of electronic stand out without dampening the fierce intensity of Bite the Hand’s noise rock. – Lena Haziq
Body – Finnish Postcard
Finnish Postcard—currently comprised of three guys from Los Angeles—first emailed me in March about this record. Body would be their first album and they wanted to know whether or not I would be “interested in collaborating on its release.” It was my first time hearing of the group and, as a new DJ, I was beyond flattered. Personal feelings aside, Body ventures sonically into odd crevices that I don’t find many indie rock groups exploring. And, trust me, I’m sure indie rock groups explore plenty of crevices. “Gun Shaped Key,” a shoegaze “standard,” and “Kolesq,” an atmospheric experimental track fit for Schoenbrun’s We’re All Going to the World’s Fair, are two standouts from the album. – Sydney Figueredo
From the Floor – Audrey Price
I first came across Audrey Price’s folk songs through good old fashioned word-of-mouth: a friend of a friend’s ex-girlfriend sent me her recent release, From the Floor, after its release in June. Sensitive and simple, the 19-year-old UT Austin student is releasing tracks that feel as though they could only be written in Texas; the state’s landscapes serve as breeding grounds for heartbreak. With open guitar chords and a capo, Price writes a coming-of-age album while she is still literally coming of age, too young to know and certainly too soon to reflect.
Maybe it’s more interesting this way — songs stuck in the middle of a feeling — and maybe, it’s also what Price adds to Austin’s over-saturated indie-folk scene of oldheads: unfeigned, unknowing, and totally unchecked vulnerability. – Levi Langley
I love MUSIC – Mifu
In some Italian fellow’s dream, nine Samsung ringtones became sentient and were given eternal life. The unfortunate temporal restrictions of recorded music have made the reality a bit shorter – the longest sequence of blips and beeps tops out around four minutes. Time, space, and melodic structures aside, I love MUSIC carves out a teeming atmosphere, as if you could lift up rocks from a moss soundscape in FL Studio. One thousand tiny sonic pillbugs crawl around on “˙ ⢨ヽ⣿ . , ♪ ⠀⠈⠛ ⣿˙ (https://bffmusicbffmusic.bandcamp.com/track/-)”; on “telephone.. … …” new life worms its way through ambient soil – and the moment you’ve settled into the electro-tender Mifu ecosystem, “i forgor.. .” knocks gentle wind out of you, pastoral guitar in hand.
The titles date themselves earnestly (“forgor” will probably undergo the same linguistic cannibalization as “eepy” and other such compatriots) but are aptly ascribed to the open-hearted execution of I love MUSIC. How to capture what somebody’s brother playing video games next to you five years ago sounds like (see “spooky cumbia of Love and Resignation”)? Inevitably in an aged way, but so is any sweet, digitally altered memory. – Bernarda Basualdo
Johnny Skin – Johnny Skin
Off in the distance there is a radio playing classic pop hits from yesteryear’s biggest stars. The sound travels through windowpanes, locked doors, kitchen appliances, swimming pools, and traffic jams and the resulting distorted remains make up Johnny Skin’s self-titled debut. The vaguely biblical and fleshy moniker is the pseudonym of Kellen Baker, front man for the midwest jangle-pop group, Good Flying Birds. His solo explorations take a step away from the full-band distortion in favor of a hollow, primitive sound centered around a drum machine. Tracks like opener “I Need You,” and “You’ve Really Got a Hold on Me,” are vaguely reminiscent of a distant memory at a haunted circus drawing similar melodies from that of a broken-down horse carousel. – Shannon McMahon
my ambience – zayaq
my ambience by zayaq is an extremely versatile refresh to the underground rap sound. His fourth EP and by far his most versatile, he touches on sounds ranging from Che and Prettifun, to Osamason and Summrs, combining genres like Pluggnb and rage. In this EP he shows off his insane versatility in contrast to his heavily rage inspired ep Crisis. Each song works as party fodder, a soundtrack to a party, or quiet listening in headphones. It’s hard to fault him for leaning on his influence; he’s only 16 making music on par with the juggernauts of the underground. If you like Che’s Sayso Says, Prettifun’s FunHouse, OsamaSon’s Osama Season or just a fan of the underground sound, you’ll love Zayaq’s My Ambience. – Isaac Ciravolo
PORTRAiTS – PARKiNG
Like a bulletproof tire with a pulse and a disembodied heart thrown in like a hand grenade, the debut by Louisville, Kentucky’s PARKiNG is a brutal, seismic volcano that surely would have been loved by the likes of Katia and Maurice Kraftt. Informed by the champions of Louisville’s local past (Slint, Rodan, Squirrel Bait) and modern midwest-power-pop sensibilities, the trio–consisting of T Moore (drums, vocals), Lizzie Cooper (bass, vocals), and Boss Benson (guitar)–are the ideal blend of consistency, clamour, and teenage disaffection. Separated into three sections by looming, harmonic string interludes, the record is highlighted by touchstone tracks: “Siren”, “Mike Johnson is a Mechanic,” (live renditions of which include harrowing screams from Cooper), and “Statements,” the record’s only single. – Shannon McMahon
Shy at first – cootie catcher
Toronto-based four-piece cootie catcher is a taste of youthful sweetness. Released in March of this year, their second album Shy at first, has all the hallmarks of a DIY classic: his-and-hers vocals, some weird lo-fi electronics, a crochet tutorial voice over, etc etc. Shy at first is surprising but undeniably earnest to its core, it is a playful look into indietronica that tackles the uneasy head on with heart — check out “Friend of a friend” if you are interested in jumping up and down! – Hanne Brabander
First Taste of Heaven – Nuclear Daisies
Nuclear Daisies are drunk and unafraid — at least that is what’s realized after parsing through the act’s sophomore LP, full of over-processed, shoegazy guitars and abrasive percussions, which sound more like they’re being dropped on the ground rather than commonly played. Paired with that of traditional dance electronics, the Ringo Deathstarr offshoot sighs lines like “You gotta find heaven in your head/Oh no, things will go on” with a type of heedlessness that could only result in some immense loss, as the band’s debut album was dedicated to the bassist’s late stepfather. It’s as if dance music, for the Nuclear Daisies, is the only remedy to the fact that we are still here on this earth, despite the deaths of those we love, despite its immense awfulness. – Levi Langley
Standing on the Corner (2025) – Standing on the Corner
This record isn’t on the list because the Standing on the Corner is a particularly obscure group. Gio Escobar’s work on Earl Sweatshirt’s Some Rap Songs and collaborations with Solange have given the experimental sound collage/R&B outfit an outsized reputation considering their austerity. No, Standing on the Corner II is here because if you didn’t make a trip to Times Square on September 11th to buy a DVD from Mickey Mouse, you’re not listening to this any time soon, good luck. Sure, Dropbox links float around on their Reddit, though even those are quickly taken down; it’s been somewhat confirmed by Escobar that this record should be considered unreleased, which is a funny term for something with legally sold physical copies out in the world.
No matter your views on Gio Escobar’s weird capitalist performance art, the record is absolutely worth pursuing. The group push their limits into more fractured yet beautiful territory, morphing R&B rhythms and rap grooves into totally unrecognizable homunculuses that, somehow, still move like a club hit. There’s a Danny Brown feature towards the end, which automatically makes Standing on the Corner worth pursuing or praying over. – Benny Sun
Ten Times More – Welwyn
United by roomy drums and dizzying guitar, each song on Ten Times More offers its own mood. This self-mixed and mastered debut LP sets itself up to feel like a straightforward punk rock album with its first two or three tracks, but as we should have learned from Welwyn’s 2021 EP of four years prior, the band does not seem interested in satisfying genre expectations. They weave a spacey lullaby between feedback-filled instrumentals and charismatically pitchy scream-rock moments. Understanding the lyrics might take a considerable amount of psychoanalysis and interpretation, though the more immediately resonant lines make it seem possible (“Push pace under size/ And sat my ease in a line”). And anyways, the vocal delivery transmits the necessary affect – there’s a tenderness in the falsetto and joviality in the screams which complement for a disorienting emotionality. Ten Times More is proof that Gen Z still has much to offer to NYC punk rock. – Trent Mopsick
The Pennys – The Pennys
The Pennys are the kind of band whose music would’ve echoed through an English residence hall around 1993. Despite coming from the sun-drenched mountains of Northern California, The Pennys make music that sounds like they emerged from the rain-soaked Scottish streets of The Pastels and The Vaselines. Grounded by the dual vocals of songwriters Mike Ramos and S.E. Seraphin, the self-described “occult heartbreak pop” band explore a languid, lo-fi side of twee pop, bringing together the melodious precision of The Go-Betweens with a grungy, alt-country listlessness. “No More Tears Pt. 2” exemplifies that tinge of Americana with its reverb-drenched country solo, whilst “Say Something” is more reminiscent of a classic twee ballad vis-à-vis the Shop Assistants’ “Somewhere in China,” but with additional instrumental flourishes like piano and a gentle horn section. – Lachlan Wong
they shoot horses, don’t they? – ofalltheirbrokenparts
The three-piece Texas emo project ofalltheirbrokenparts, like many other DIY bands across the nation, get their fanbase and clout from their local scene. The band regularly hosts free shows in their hometown of San Antonio, grounding their music in accessibility. Their debut album they shoot horses, don’t they? dabbles in a multitude of genres, including screamo, shoegaze, Midwest emo, and many others in a show of genre-bending freedom of sound. The first song “better off apart” leads us into the album with model screamo charm, while also containing a melodic interlude (“smells like moon and dust”) that utilizes a voiceover from the film It’s Such a Beautiful Day and string instrument features. “Open heart wound” incorporates screamo vocals with classic Midwest emo chord progression, creating a unique dissonance that is found and perfected in local music. Most cities will have their own ofalltheirbrokenparts and they shoot horses, don’t they? – an artist and album that resists commercialization and profit, and leans into community and innovation in sound. – Wei Zhou
Weston Hunter & The Angels of Midnight – Weston Hunter
Weston Hunter is opening up a dusty, lived in and cobweb-ed up world into your phone. His record Weston Hunter & The Angels of Midnight is best enjoyed in a dark room via a 42-minute YouTube video that pours over with inky, maroon lighting and a sonic euphoria you only thought possible in some Southern saloon that doesn’t exist. Trying to know Hunter in any other way than his music is like solving a half-missing puzzle: you might glean his Nashville origins from Instagram hashtags and the unironic obsession with wolf paraphernalia, but it’s better to leave the mystery untouched. It’s harmonicas. It’s cowboy hats. It’s a buzzing brass. He’s offering you his own take on country mastered and nurtured in eight short songs, and nobody knows about it. – Ariya Reddy
Yeah, I Bet – My Wife’s An Angel
My Wife’s An Angel relentlessly boast wry humor to mask cathartic misanthropy on their latest record, Yeah, I Bet. Conveying gritty themes through simplistic yet layered lyrical babble, the Philly no-wave band is ferociously breaking sonic walls. Yeah, I Bet bends the contrived chaos of no-wave music through the strained instruments essential to noise rock. The Philadelphians demonstrate how eccentricity can fuel pushing what was already ballistic into extremity, utilizing blazing instrumental techniques, deadpan vocals, and the occasional voicemail or news segment to further loop the listener into their grim and unruly mindscape. The oxymoronic lyricism is laughably serious, touching on conventionally difficult topics with a certain bluntness; thoughtlessly morbid on the surface but actually meticulous and facetious. With each shocking line, the vocalist hauntingly continues to double down and dig himself deeper, leaving the audience frightened to see just how far he’ll go.
The novelty of their sound is captivating; most records of such sonic singularity don’t come packed with as much energy as Yeah, I Bet does. The listening experience becomes effortlessly shiftable between a thrilling clutter of comedy and a frenetic expression of rage. Both musically and lyrically, this project scratches an itch in your brain that you never realized needed scratching. – Beau Bialow