I See Stars’ return was one of my most anticipated releases of the year, so there was that nervous excitement you only get with bands you genuinely care about. I See Stars have always been about evolution: never settling, never repeating themselves. Pushing at the edges of electronicore without losing their identity. After nine years of silence, The Wheel feels like the full realisation of what Treehouse set in motion.
Some of these songs lived rent-free in my head long before the album dropped. Split especially after hearing it live. Nothing better than screaming SPLIT with a bunch of strangers in a dark room. Others, like Eliminator, I listened to alone, minutes after its release late at night, lying in bed with my headphones on.
Exploring themes of grief, vulnerability, and hope, the lyrics of Float accompanied me through the uncertainty of the current state of the world. Flood Light stuck with me. And the collaboration with Palaye Royale on Lost It was the perfect crossover between two very different bands that share the same core.
The record knows when to be heavy and when to pull back when the melodies need it. The drums go hard. Devin Oliver’s vocals are impeccable. This is a front-to-back listen – no skips, no filler.
An album that rewards attention. Spin the wheel, and let it take you where it wants. I’ll still be doing that next year.
– Listen to The Wheel by I See Stars
I Feel Everything marks a real shift for Maggie Lindemann. More musically diverse, more confident, and way more honest than anything she’s done before. The record doesn’t fit into a box, it is the album that it needed to be.
The tracks feel connected, like chapters rather than standalone tracks. Hyperpop influences on some tracks (Hi there, One of the Ones!), pop-punk moments on others, softer songs that catch you off guard. But she never loses that alternative core that made people pay attention in the first place.
If you’re someone who genuinely feels everything, this album gets under your skin.
– Listen to I Feel Everything by Maggie Lindemann
I counted the minutes down to the release of Specter. Bad Omens never disappoint and I knew this track was gonna mark a pivotal moment in my year.
Specter starts slow. Piano loop. Space. Tension. You can feel something building straight away. It’s industrial, controlled, and very much in the Bad Omens world, bringing some similarities from The Death of Peace of Mind era.
When the drums and bass start creeping in, it feels deliberate. Nothing rushes. And when the full band finally hits, it lands because they waited for it to land.
The instrumentals are insane, but Noah’s vocals are what really pushed me to the floor. The cleans sound unreal, but it’s that raw breaking point later in the song that got me. Not a metalcore scream. Not clean. Just pain, human. Honestly, I don’t think he’s ever sounded better.
The singles around this release built on that sound instead of abandoning it. Impose became another favourite, especially live. Seeing them in Berlin just a few weeks ago was probably my highlight of the year. The lights, the visuals, the atmosphere. I don’t think I’ll be moving on from that anytime soon.
– Listen to Specter by Bad Omens
“A love letter to life, in all its fucking madness.” That’s how Yungblud describes Idols, and listening to it, you understand exactly what he means.
The album leans heavily into classic rock ‘n’ roll: big riffs, orchestral swells, unapologetic drama. You can hear the artists who shaped him woven through the sound. It’s clean, emotional, sometimes messy, but never boring.
This is him embracing the noise instead of trying to polish it down. His voice is made for this genre – raw, fearless, completely unfiltered. The production is sharp, but it keeps those rough edges that make it feel real. A celebration of being alive. An album that finds you right when you need it.
Released shortly after the Death or Glory era ended, Sad Generation sits in that transitional space between chapters. Alongside the track Feel Something, Great, it captures Palaye Royale in a moment of reflection.
The song is catchy, raw, and gets straight to the point. It channels frustration, disillusionment, and questions of identity while taking aim at how screens and social media warp our sense of reality. In true Palaye fashion, it captures the hopelessness of a generation and turns it into something communal: we’re all f*cked, but at least we’re not alone in it.
– Listen to Sad Generation by Palaye Royale
This is, without question, the collaboration of the year for me. End of You brings together three of the most iconic women in alternative and heavy music.
Poppy, Evanescence’s Amy Lee, and Spiritbox’s Courtney LaPlante: three distinct voices, all converging in one track. What makes it work is how their voices carry the song together, merging and separating, building on each other rather than competing for space. The production is smart about it, giving each of them room to shine while layering them into something massive.
It channels feminine rage without watering it down. They lift each other up, and when their voices blend together, it hits harder than any of them could alone.
– Listen to End Of You by Poppy ft. Amy Lee, Courtney LaPlante
This album surprised me. Before, I mostly knew Sleep Token through their bigger songs. Seeing them headline Download Festival 2025 changed that completely. Suddenly, I was a Sleep Token enjoyer.
Even in Arcadia shifts between soft and heavy without warning, like the album is breathing with you. Caramel ended up being my song of the summer without me even planning for it. I just kept coming back to it. Now it takes me straight back to those warmer months, that specific feeling I can’t quite name but don’t want to let go of.
The record demands your attention and rewards it. Once it pulls you in, it’s hard to leave.
– Listen to Even in Arcadia by Sleep Token
A cinematic tribute to the city of Los Angeles – not just the glamour, but the darkness beneath it. Hollywood Forever explores growing up in a city that gives and takes relentlessly, capturing both its beauty and its brutality.
Pop melodies sit alongside dark, alt production, creating something ethereal yet unsettling. Lyrically, it confronts the story of the dreamers and non-believers and the resilience it takes to survive. Romy’s experiences bleed through every track: the beauty of and the cost of chasing something real.
Dreamlike, but never detached from reality.
– Listen to Hollywood Forever by DeathbyRomy
This album moves like water: shifting, flowing, never stagnant. Fata Morgana is a killer opening track, immediately pulling you under and setting the tone for what follows.
Throughout Tsunami Sea, Spiritbox balance atmosphere and aggression effortlessly. At times it feels like an evolution of their earlier work; at others, a complete departure. Heavy, experimental, and immersive, it keeps you on edge from start to finish.
Courtney LaPlante remains one of the most compelling voices in heavy music today, and this album proves exactly why.
– Listen to Tsunami Sea by Spiritbox
Anyway, here’s Wonderwall.
Bring Me The Horizon covering one of the most overplayed songs in British music history was always going to be risky. The maestros of their genre, instead of leaning into nostalgia, they dismantled it, rebuilding the track with distortion, atmosphere, screams, and breakdowns where none belonged before.
And yes, it’s already in my playlist going into 2026.
– Listen to WONDERWaLL, cover by Bring Me The Horizon
2025 was a good year. I lived, had beautiful experiences, explored my creativity, took risks I didn’t know I could take. These albums and songs became part of that story.
I don’t know what 2026 is going to sound like yet. But I know these records and songs will still be in rotation. Still playing on all the moments that matter.
If music is a time capsule, this is mine. And this is the music from 2025 I’m bringing into 2026.
