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Indie rock emerged in the early to mid-1980s in the UK, US, and New Zealand, originally referring to rock music released by independent labels before evolving into a distinct genre. Its roots lie in the jangly, melodic Dunedin sound of bands like the Chills and the Clean, as well as early college rock staples like the Smiths and R.E.M. The genre solidified with the UK’s *NME* C86 cassette and the underground rise of Sonic Youth, Dinosaur Jr., and Unrest in the US. By the late 1980s and early 1990s, indie rock expanded with bands like the Pixies and Radiohead signing to major labels, while subgenres such as slowcore, Midwest emo, and shoegaze took shape.
The mainstream success of grunge and Britpop in the ’90s drew attention to indie rock, creating a divide between radio-friendly acts and more experimental artists, ultimately shifting “indie” from a label-based definition to a stylistic one. In the 2000s, the genre resurged through the garage rock and post-punk revival, led by the Strokes and the Libertines, with later success from Bloc Party, Arctic Monkeys, and the Killers, leading to the “landfill indie” wave that oversaturated the market.
Beach Bunny – Honeymoon Honeymoon is a vibrant and emotionally charged debut album that captures the intensity of young love and heartbreak through a lens of bright indie-rock energy. Released in 2020, the record is characterized by its irresistible melodies, punchy rhythms, and Lili Trifilio’s evocative, honest songwriting, which brings raw vulnerability to the forefront….
*Father of the Bride* is Vampire Weekend at their weirdest and most open—sunny melodies masking existential dread, West Coast ease clashing with quiet chaos. It’s a sprawling, pastel-tinted album full of contradictions that somehow feels at peace.
Wide Awake! is a protest record disguised as a house party. It’s twitchy, lean, and pissed off with style. Parquet Courts don’t offer solutions. They throw noise, dance breaks, and sharp one-liners instead. And somehow, in all that noise, they find clarity.
Courtney Barnett – Tell Me How You Really Feel This isn’t an album that shouts to get your attention. It mutters, shrugs, glances sideways, then lands a line that stings for days. Tell Me How You Really Feel trades in the whip-smart observational charm of Barnett’s debut for something heavier, darker, and more internal. The…
Out in the Storm is a document of self-preservation—loud, vulnerable, and utterly human. Waxahatchee doesn’t offer closure. Katie Crutchfield offers truth. And it stings in all the best ways. It’s louder than her past records, but the volume doesn’t hide a thing.
The magic in Puberty 2 lies in how contradictions coexist. There’s fuzzed-out distortion slamming up against dainty melodies. Violence and sweetness collide in lines that land like punches wrapped in lace. Mitski’s voice can sound detached one second, then bloodletting the next.
Teens of Denial is Will Toledo’s messy, brilliant letter to himself—funny, anxious, and loud. It’s raw indie rock turned catharsis, where imperfection hits harder than polish, and every awkward shout feels like a personal victory.
Frayed, anxious, and razor-smart, this album trades post-punk detachment for raw introspection. It jitters, spirals, and simmers—less rebellion, more survival. Messy, honest, and wired like insomnia at 3AM with a notebook full of unfinished thoughts.
Moody, neon-lit, and quietly haunting, this reunion drifts through dub, synth, and post-punk like a band ghosting its own past. Reflective, restrained, and razor-sharp, it whispers rather than shouts—and somehow lands even deeper because of it.
Courtney Barnett’s Sometimes I Sit and Think, and Sometimes I Just Sit is a deadpan monologue of overthinking, overanalyzing, and occasionally just shrugging at life’s absurdity.