Under The Radar | January 2026 Playlist

Cardinals (foto de Ariane Quignon)

New year, new music? The January playlist gives a glimpse of who's already starting to rehearse their leading role in what's to come.

January always arrives with the productive illusion of a fresh start: a month of attentive listening, of projected expectations, of old movements returning transfigured by the generations that inherit them with (or without) reverence. The decade begins in suspense, more given to announcement than to consecration. Albums with a historical vocation are scarce, singles abound as promises. There's talk mainly of the upcoming Grammys, although their criteria remain difficult to grasp, even within the logic of popularity; perhaps that's why this month I prefer to pay attention to what's being announced in the shadowy corridors of the underground , rather than the anxiety for superfluous validation.

This start to the year isn't just about enthusiasm: it also brings loss and reflection. We pay tribute to Matt Kwasniewski-Kelvin, founding guitarist of Black Midi and a talented human being, whose absence serves as a reminder of the urgency to ask for help (and to know how to listen to it). The initial impact of Schlagenheim will not be forgotten; largely due to the irreplaceable visceral nature of its post-hardcore riffs .

Still, the January Playlist vibrates with complex feelings: the emotional reinvention of Robyn, the melodic weariness in Joyce Manor, the intimate chaos of By Storm, the frank revivalism of Gladie. An engine that starts with restraint, promising without shouting. For now, we prefer to ignore predictions and future awards and focus on the essentials: the music that matters, now.

January 2026 Playlist | The Singles

“Talk To Me” emerges as the most immediate and disarming gesture of Robyn's return after almost eight years of recording silence. Included in the announcement of Sexistential , the song presents itself bluntly as pop in a state of controlled excitement: a luminous, synthetic banger ; built for the dance floor, but attentive to emotional detail. There is a symbolic reunion here: Robyn composes again with Max Martin (for the first time since Time Machine ), and that old chemistry is felt in the melodic clarity, the catchy chorus, and the pulse that directly recalls the Every Heartbeat era , now filtered through an artist fully aware of her body, her voice, and her desire.

Composed during the pandemic, “Talk To Me” transforms the absence of physical contact into an affirmation of sensuality mediated by words. The production (shared between Klas Åhlund, Martin, and Oscar Holter) is polished but never sterile, balancing vocal sweetness with a bubbling energy. In the context of Sexistential , an album she herself describes as a return to herself after an exploratory phase that distanced her from her essence, “Talk To Me” is accessible, confident, and delightfully vibrant.

ROBYN | "TALK TO ME"

Gladie , a promising Philly band , is all about presence and resilience. “Future Spring” is a whirlwind of punk hooks, led by satisfying fuzz guitars and Augusta Koch’s sharp vocal melodies. Her conversational delivery gives the track an uncomplicated energy, but the band skillfully balances the driving force between the spiky and the sweet, layering cutting distortion over an irresistibly catchy chorus. The result is galvanizing, cathartic, impossible to ignore. The lyrics follow suit: “The parts that you’ve been avoiding/ Oh they’re catching up to you/ What makes you quiet/ What keeps you small/ Why do you give up power/ When they don’t care at all?”.

Koch explains: " Future Spring is about grappling with the isolation and loneliness that's created by the cruelty of the world we live in. I wanted to capture the feeling of being in conversation with a friend, questioning why at times we can let outside influences shrink us. I think the world would be a lot better if we encouraged each other to be kinder to themselves and by extension others. It's good to remind people that you are happy they're here."

The track is an invitation to active empathy: punk and vulnerability have always coexisted in perfect harmony. “Future Spring” prepares us for No Need To Be Lonely , an album arriving on March 20th via Get Better Records .

GLADIE | “FUTURE SPRING”

Finally, the Irish band Cardinals places the accordion at the center of "I Like You," while guitars and drums punctuate each pause with impact, and Euan Manning's Oberts-esque voice traverses the song with restrained anguish. Manning transports us to the following scenario: a festival tent, clinking beer and swaying shoulders, as we discover a new favorite band. The track is the last single from their debut album Masquerade (February 13th, So Young Records).

Manning recalls the genesis of the song: “This is the first song we wrote with the album in mind. After a very long period of not working on anything we started and finished this some bright morning last February in our practice studio. It felt cathartic, a completely grounding moment after feeling slightly lost for months. The first lyric is stripped/ paraphrased from the tune "My Funny Valentine". I don't think it was written by Chet Baker but that's the version we know.”

CARDINALS | “I LIKE YOU" LIVE

January 2026 Playlist | The Albums

The best album of the month is so fleeting that, by the time we realize the magnitude of the life experience it sets out to narrate, we're already on the last track. This doesn't diminish it. On the contrary. Joyce Manor have this rare ability to encapsulate a world in less than two minutes. To fit past, present, and future hesitation into songs that end before we even realize it. This is one of their most complete records. On their seventh LP, *I Used To Go To This Bar *, the band finds a balance between the turbulence of youth and the idealization of maturity. There is melancholy. There is reflection.

The mundane emerges here as a faithful repository of a unique meaning. Cannabis addiction. The unremarkable bar, chosen simply because it was close to home when cars didn't exist yet. Joyce Manor are honest and moving through their portrayal of the banal. Musically, the album covers the band's entire palette. “I Know Where Mark Chen Lives” is anthemic. “All My Friends Are So Depressed” recovers the early cowpunk twang. “Grey Guitar” closes with a drama reminiscent of “Constant Headache”. “Well, Whatever It Was” and “Well, Don't It Seem Like You've Been Here Before” condense humor and pop-punk hooks. Joyce Manor continue to prove that emotional density isn't measured in duration.

JOYCE MANOR | I USED TO GO TO THIS BAR

My Ghosts Go Ghost springs from an exercise in restructuring memory. The death of Stepa J. Groggs in 2020 definitively ended Injury Reserve and led the remaining members, Parker Cory and RiTchie, to reorganize under the name By Storm . My Ghosts Go Ghost is based on the notions of deviation and suspension. A fusion of experimental hip-hop and neo-psychedelia, with hints of illbient and folktronica, that seems to portray a mental state in its purest form.

The album unfolds like a drunken conversation deep into the night, where truths emerge fragmented, abstract, sometimes difficult to grasp. The creativity remains dizzying, but filtered through a meditative haze: minimalist landscapes, enveloping noise, and cathartic explosions. My Ghosts Go Ghost is an album that doesn't try to replace the past, choosing instead to coexist with its ghosts.

BY STORM | MY GHOSTS GO GHOST

Finally, we decided to split the last highlight of the month between two albums that need time to be listened to and reinterpreted. We are referring to Can I Get a Pack of Camel Lights? by Geologist, and With Heaven On Top by Zach Bryan. In the case of Geologist, we are faced with Brian Weitz's (of Animal Collective fame) first truly solo album. In Can I Get a Pack of Camel Lights?, Weitz uses hurdy-gurdy drones, organic electronics, krautrock pulses, free jazz, and minimalist ambient to create a twilight post-rock landscape where ancestry and futurism intertwine peculiarly. In return, it requires constant attentive listening: to detail; to hypnotic repetition.

GEOLOGIST | CAN I GET A PACK OF CAMEL LIGHTS?

Zach Bryan remains a difficult figure to digest: prolific, emotionally exposed, and sometimes erratic; yet visibly capable of moments of raw truth that justify attention. With Heaven On Top is the seventh chapter of this creative compulsion: long, uneven, sometimes redundant. Still, this is his most ambitious album sonically, with arrangements of brass, strings, and harmonies that expand the scale of the songs without making them artificial. Some tracks don't immediately impact him. However, Bryan can also be instantly devastating: in songs about his mother and in portraits of loss and guilt. His raspy voice carries honesty and a process of trial and error that aims to reward those who accept the long journey contained in a double album to uncover the moments when everything seems to make sense . Who knows, perhaps each listen will reveal the potential of previously overlooked tracks. Authentic works are like that... especially when they consist of twenty-five songs.

JANUARY 2026 PLAYLIST | HIGHLIGHTS OF THE MONTH

• Zach Bryan, With Heaven On Top (Belting Bronco, Warner , January 9)

• Dry Cleaning, Secret Love ( 4AD , January 9)

• Mary Lattimore & Julianna Barwick, Tragic Magic (In Finé, January 16)

• ASAP Rocky, Don't Be Dumb (AWGE / ASAP Worldwide, RCA Records, January 16)

• Sassy 009, Dreamer+ (PIAS, January 16)

• Victoryland, My Heart Is A Room With No Cameras On It (Good English Records, Many Hats Distribution, January 23)

• Searows, Death In The Business Of Whaling (Last Recordings On Earth, January 23)

• Geologist, Can I Get A Pack Of Camel Lights? (Drag City, 30 January)

• By Storm, My Ghosts Go Ghost (deadAir, January 30)

• Joyce Manor, I Used To Go To This Bar (Epitaph Records, January 30)

• AG Cook, The Moment (The Score) (A24 Music, 30 January)

JANUARY 2026 PLAYLIST | SPOTIFY