Weekly Discover #52
- Fernando Triff
- 17 hours ago
- 15 min read
Welcome to Weekly Discover 52 — not just a playlist, but a reflection of where music is headed right now.
This week's selection offers a wide spectrum of sound—from laid-back atmospheres to pulse-quickening energy. Each track has been handpicked to evoke emotion, stir curiosity, and mirror the ever-evolving rhythm of the times.
You’ll hear voices you may not know yet, but won’t forget soon. Rising talents blend seamlessly with bold production and genre-bending ideas, where classic influences are reimagined through a modern lens.
Weekly Discover 52 is about movement—musical, creative, and personal. Whether you're a long-time listener or dropping in for the first time, there’s something here to catch you off guard in the best way.
Step into the soundscape of 1111CR3W. Every track tells a story, and every beat brings us closer to what’s next.
MrMessy – I Want to Make Her Happy

There’s a certain charm to chaos when it’s carefully curated, and MrMessy knows exactly how to turn creative debris into something intimate, infectious, and deeply human. His latest record, I Want to Make Her Happy, isn’t just a collection of electronic tracks—it’s a personal redemption arc, a return from the ashes of data loss and artistic heartbreak, sculpted into a surprisingly fresh and thoughtful sonic experience.
Hailing from Switzerland, MrMessy (aka Lukas) has long operated in the shadows—both as a producer for a roster of indie and alt acts and as a solitary alchemist of his own musical experiments. But I Want to Make Her Happy feels like the moment he finally lets that quiet perseverance shine through the surface. The album is melodic and groovy in all the right places, layered with a gentle but persistent dynamism that echoes the emotional tightrope walked in the title. Is happiness really something we can offer someone else? And if so, how do we even begin?
The record dances in this tension. It’s not a wall-of-sound kind of electronic record. Instead, it weaves textures—synths that hum like glowing city lights, rhythms that thump with understated confidence, and melodies that move like thoughts you can’t shake in the middle of the night. There’s restraint here, but not hesitation. Every beat feels deliberate, even in its looseness—almost as if Lukas is letting us into his process, his “creative mess,” and showing us that mess can be beautiful too.
The backstory only adds to the mythos. Years ago, the original versions of these songs were nearly lost in a catastrophic hard drive crash, a haunting event that turned MrMessy’s studio into a graveyard of forgotten potential. And yet, as if from a dusty attic of memory, four comatose tracks were unearthed and eventually revived. It’s rare that music so tied to loss and imperfection feels this effortlessly modern. The sonic palette feels clean but lived-in, like a favorite shirt—well-worn but not worn out.
There's also something quietly revolutionary in the record's ethos. In an industry often obsessed with instant virality and polished perfection, MrMessy doubles down on individuality and the long game. He doesn’t scream for attention—he seduces with subtlety, with detail, with care. I Want to Make Her Happy reminds us that dance music doesn’t have to be brash to be bold. Sometimes it just has to be honest.
Whether you find yourself swaying alone in a kitchen at midnight or lost in headphones on a rainy walk, MrMessy's latest feels like a companion. It's a record for dreamers and realists alike—for those who’ve ever tried to give happiness to someone else and discovered in the process a few hidden pieces of themselves.
In short: this is electronic music with a heartbeat. And that heartbeat belongs unmistakably to MrMessy.
Aakira Fae – Overrated

If you haven't heard of aakira fae yet, that’s about to change. The Brighton-based alt-pop enchantress has been quietly building a world of her own—an iridescent blend of dreamy vocals, intimate lyricism, and enough emotional honesty to make you question your last three situationships. Her third and latest single, Overrated, is the sonic equivalent of texting someone you shouldn’t at 3AM and dancing about it in your kitchen anyway.
Overrated isn’t just a song—it’s a story. Written in a single session two years ago with longtime producer Alex Collins, the track was an instant favorite for both of them. But in a very Gen Z twist of fate, the original file was lost after being mistakenly labeled and buried deep in Collins' drive. For over a year and a half, it sat there—dormant, unbothered, and unaware it would become a feral summer anthem. The track resurfaced, fittingly, on New Year’s Eve, like a cosmic green light to bring it back to life. And now? It’s here, fully formed and dangerously addictive.
What makes Overrated hit so hard isn’t just the backstory—it’s the mood. Aakira leans fully into her chaos, painting a picture of longing that’s as euphoric as it is destructive. She sings like she’s floating above the mess, glittering and glowing, while underneath, the production pulses like a heart that knows better but doesn’t care. You can feel the tension between restraint and recklessness in every beat.
Lyrically, Overrated is a fever dream of desire—wanting something, or someone, you know isn’t good for you. The track speaks to the rawness of craving the unattainable, especially through the lens of queer identity and the emotional tightrope that often comes with it. Aakira’s delivery doesn’t just evoke feeling—it demands you feel it too.
If her debut butterflies was the innocent blush of new love and upstate was the quiet unraveling, Overrated is the moment you light the match and watch it all burn—grinning, mascara-smudged, and barefoot in the street. It’s unhinged in the best way: glittery chaos wrapped in sultry vocals and haunting, late-night melodies.
It’s also clear that aakira fae isn’t trying to follow anyone else’s path. Yes, you can hear flickers of her influences—Biig Piig’s fluidity, Miley’s wildness, Arlo Parks’ intimacy—but the final product is undeniably her own. Her voice, delicate but confident, drips with intent. She’s not just here to sing; she’s here to tell you her truth, no matter how messy.
With Overrated, aakira fae doesn’t just stake her claim in the alt-pop space—she dances circles around it, casting glitter in every direction. Don’t be surprised if this track becomes your summer obsession. Unapologetically chaotic, achingly beautiful, and totally unforgettable—Overrated is anything but.
Steven Browley – Linda Moo and Piggy Sue
Released May 3, 2025
There’s something quietly radical about Steven Browley’s latest single, Linda Moo and Piggy Sue. Clocking in at just under four minutes, it’s not merely a song—it’s a plea. A melodic, at times whimsical, at times sobering cry for compassion aimed at those often overlooked in our human-centered world: animals.
Emerging from the modest, music-loving town of Leverkusen, Germany, Browley is far from the typical activist. His approach isn’t fiery—it’s tender. Armed with vintage gear from the late ’90s and early 2000s, he recorded the track in the warmth of his home studio, using not only the familiar hums and twangs of retro equipment but also the unexpected voices of dogs, cows, and pigs—literally. These animal sounds aren’t gimmicks; they’re woven into the song’s DNA, serving as poignant reminders of who the message is really for.
There’s a charming intimacy in the way Linda Moo and Piggy Sue was created. Browley invited a longtime friend to lay down guitar parts, and the chemistry shows. The arrangement is loose but purposeful, nostalgic without being stuck in the past. You can trace his influences easily—from the melodic sensibilities of the Beatles to the layered storytelling of the Eagles, with a dash of Kraftwerk’s sonic curiosity lurking beneath the surface.
But what truly makes this track stand out is its heart. The lyrics are disarmingly simple, almost childlike in their sincerity: They have no choice to raise their own voice. That single line encapsulates the emotional weight Browley carries throughout the song. It's not trying to be a hit. It’s trying to be heard by the right people—those who still believe that empathy should extend beyond our own species.
There are no stadium tours or festival slots on the horizon for Browley, and that feels fitting. Linda Moo and Piggy Sue wasn’t made for the spotlight. It was made for your headphones during a quiet morning walk, or perhaps for the car ride home after volunteering at a shelter. It was made to make you feel something—and then, ideally, to do something.
In a world of calculated pop and polished personas, Steven Browley’s earnestness feels like a breath of fresh, hay-scented air. This isn’t just music for animal lovers—it’s music for anyone still brave enough to care.
Standout Line: “Enjoy life with your pets.” It’s not profound in a literary sense—but in an age of cruelty and disconnect, it's a radical reminder of love in its simplest form.
Rating: ★★★★☆
(Heartfelt, handmade, and quietly revolutionary.)
Sourwood – On the Road: A Record Review

There’s something undeniably magnetic about a debut that doesn’t try to impress but instead invites you in—quietly confident, emotionally grounded, and refreshingly honest. Sourwood’s On the Road, released April 29, 2025, is exactly that kind of record. Recorded live off the floor at Halo Studio in Hamilton, Ontario, the single isn’t just a song—it’s the audible imprint of a spontaneous musical collision, fueled by shared intention and restless soul-searching.
At its core, On the Road is a narrative of movement—physical, emotional, and spiritual. Written by vocalist and guitarist Lucas Last, the track leans heavily on themes of yearning, displacement, and the elusive hunt for belonging. But unlike many road-worn metaphors that litter the Americana and folk-rock lexicon, Sourwood’s take feels lived-in, vulnerable, and devoid of posturing.
Musically, the song doesn’t sit still for long. Drawing from bluegrass roots and stretching into Celtic, classical, and jazz motifs, On the Road is both grounded and expansive. There’s a subtle boldness in how the band plays with time and space—most notably in the hook, which lands off-kilter in a seven-bar phrase that gives the chorus a kind of unresolved propulsion. It’s the kind of detail you might not catch on first listen, but once you do, it becomes hard to ignore. That rhythmic jolt encapsulates the band’s ethos: structured but instinctive, traditional but unafraid.
Last is joined by Liam Lewis (mandolin), Olivia Bridenthal (fiddle), and Patrick Dinnen (upright bass), each bringing distinct backgrounds from different corners of North America. What’s remarkable is that this lineup came together just two days before recording began. With the addition of Ontario banjoist Larry Johnston, this unlikely collective became a real band almost by accident. What was supposed to be a one-off session to document Last’s back-catalogue quickly turned into something much more resonant.
The chemistry is undeniable. The interplay between Bridenthal’s fiddle and Lewis’s mandolin brings a buoyant tension to the track, weaving through Last’s voice with a kind of conversational energy. Dinnen’s upright bass glues everything together without demanding attention—a testament to the band’s commitment to collective voice over individual spotlight.
For fans of Molly Tuttle, Fleet Foxes, and Jason Isbell, there are familiar echoes here. But Sourwood isn't simply wearing its influences on its sleeve—it’s metabolizing them into something personal. There’s also a ghost of late '90s indie-folk sincerity—think Pedro the Lion or early Death Cab—hovering at the edges of Last’s lyricism, lending emotional gravity without descending into melodrama.
They’re planning a tour in 2026. Don’t be surprised if, by then, this “accidental band” becomes one of Canada’s most talked-about names in progressive roots music. This isn’t just a song—it’s the start of a journey worth following.
TerraTara – Reunite
Released May 2, 2025

In a time when the world feels increasingly fragmented, TerraTara offers a gentle yet powerful antidote with her latest single, Reunite. Released on May 2, 2025, this track isn’t just a song—it’s a heartfelt invocation for unity, a sonic gathering under the stars where listeners are invited to reconnect with each other and with something deeper than themselves.
What makes Reunite stand out isn't just its message, but how that message is delivered. There’s an earthy authenticity running through every layer of the track. Mixed by renowned producer Adham Shaikh, the production is warm and fluid, grounded in organic instrumentation that feels more like a fireside ritual than a studio session. Mandolin, guitar, and subtle percussion ripple beneath TerraTara’s voice like currents of memory, anchoring the listener in something ancient yet timeless.
Lyrically, Reunite resonates with a spiritual clarity that feels rare in contemporary music. TerraTara doesn’t preach—she opens a space. There’s a genuine vulnerability in the way she sings, as if she’s channeling centuries of ancestral wisdom through a modern lens. It’s not just about harmony in sound, but harmony in spirit.
Of course, TerraTara herself is no ordinary artist. With roots stretching from New York to Toronto, and lineage that bridges Irish and Italian heritage, her very identity is a mosaic of movement, myth, and meaning. Named after Ireland’s sacred Hill of Tara, she has made duality her muse—embracing both “Terra” and “Tara” as parts of herself. And that liminality shows up in her music. She dances effortlessly between genres, weaving together folk, world, and spiritual traditions from East and West into something wholly her own.
From her mandolin-playing on European streets to her offerings in global plant medicine ceremonies, TerraTara brings a lived sincerity to her art. Reunite is a culmination of that path—both personal and collective. It's more than a listening experience; it feels like a ritual. One that asks us to slow down, to listen—not just to the music, but to each other.
In a world hungry for connection, Reunite feels like a much-needed offering. With its lush production, global influences, and heartfelt spirit, it’s a reminder that music still has the power to mend, to gather, and to guide. TerraTara doesn’t just sing about unity—she embodies it. And through this track, she gently reminds us that maybe, just maybe, we’re not as far apart as we think.
Tomek Zdyb — Never Have I Ever

With a name that’s been quietly buzzing through Poland’s underground creative scenes, Tomek Zdyb emerges with Never Have I Ever, a track that straddles the line between theatrical storytelling and raw emotional confession. It's not just a song—it's a confrontation. A question mark wrapped in a pop beat. And it’s one that’s likely to resonate far beyond its origin story.
Originally conceived as part of a bold stage production titled Alice in Burlesque-land—a burlesque-inspired reimagining of Alice in Wonderland—Zdyb wrote the Polish version for the Cat character, a curious provocateur who questions Alice into self-reflection. That same spirit of confrontation and internal probing carried over into the English version, which takes on a more universal narrative, tracing back to Zdyb’s own adolescence and the hormonal chaos of self-discovery.
There’s no sugarcoating in Never Have I Ever. Zdyb tackles the hush-hush themes—sexuality, identity, confidence—without flinching, yet his delivery has a playfulness to it. Produced by Polish beatmaker PishOne, the track pulses with a "sexy" beat that draws energy from diverse influences—imagine a sonic spectrum that runs from the shimmer of Kylie Minogue to the unapologetic boldness of CupcakKe. But even with such references, Never Have I Ever feels entirely its own. It doesn’t try to be an homage; it’s a declaration.
One of the most refreshing things about the track is its intimacy—not just in theme, but in production. It was recorded at home, a deliberate choice for Zdyb, who values the comfort and freedom of his own space. It was also the first time he recorded without a vocal coach, giving him the freedom to explore, experiment, and—quite literally—reach new heights, with his backing vocals pushing his vocal range to places he hadn’t gone before. It’s no surprise when people tell him it sounds like more than one person is singing; Zdyb relishes inhabiting different vocal personas, a reflection of the many sides of himself he’s learned to embrace.
While Never Have I Ever will undoubtedly strike a chord with the LGBTQ+ community—especially those who’ve walked the uncertain tightrope of early self-discovery—its message is far from niche. It’s about moments we all face: when we’re forced to question who we are and who the world tells us to be. It’s about choice, fear, liberation. And at its heart, it’s about daring to say, “This is me,” even when it feels like no one’s ready to hear it.
The track makes its live debut in mid-May during the Alice in Burlesque-land musical, with more performances planned into summer and autumn, culminating in The Untold Stories concert series—a project that promises to dive even deeper into the hidden corners of lived experience.
And that’s what makes Never Have I Ever more than a track—it’s a layered journey through taboo, tenderness, and triumph.
MrParker – Lord Show Me
An Anthem of Purpose in a Time of Pretenders

In an era where algorithm-driven trends and throwaway singles flood the digital landscape, MrParker’s Lord Show Me feels like a recalibration. It’s a soul-baring appeal for guidance, steeped in spiritual vulnerability and delivered with the quiet confidence of an artist who’s spent over two decades honing his voice—not just for fame, but for purpose.
Emerging from Peoria, Illinois, MrParker is no overnight sensation, nor does he posture like one. He’s a vet in the trenches—a truth-teller who’s remained rooted in community while stretching his voice across oceans. On Lord Show Me, that duality is front and center. The production leans into classic soul—warm chords, steady drums, and just enough space to let the message breathe. But it's Parker's delivery that does the heavy lifting: measured, weathered, and brimming with intention.
“This song is a prayer,” Parker explains—and it shows. Each verse unfolds like a conversation with the divine, but also with self. There’s weariness, sure, but not despair. There’s struggle, but not defeat. In fact, the beauty of Lord Show Me is in how it uplifts without preaching. It’s personal, but instantly relatable. Whether you're sitting in a corner office or a prison cell (where Parker’s music is available via JPay), the plea hits the same: Help me see the path forward.
What sets MrParker apart isn’t just his artistry—it’s his mission. While many chase virality, he’s spent the last 20+ years building something real. Through Peoria Pulse Music, he champions indie artists. Through his affiliation with BMI, he ensures his art—and the art of others—has value. And with international airplay, including traction in Brazil, his message clearly resonates far beyond the Midwest.
Bloggers and critics often ask what’s missing from today’s hip-hop. The answer might just be people like MrParker—artists who haven’t abandoned the idea that rap can still be a vessel for truth, growth, and connection. Lord Show Me isn’t just a good record—it’s a necessary one. It reminds us that authenticity still matters. That asking for help isn’t weakness. And that, yes, there’s still space in hip-hop for faith, depth, and soul.
Standout Lyric:
"Lord show me what I can’t see / I’ve been fighting battles that no one believes..."
Verdict:
4.5/5 – A stirring, timeless track that reminds us why hip-hop, at its best, still speaks to the spirit.
Raynald Grenier – The Compilation Album

Raynald Grenier’s The Compilation Album is not just a collection of compositions—it’s a panoramic journey through the mind of a composer whose work is equal parts refined, emotive, and cinematic. With this release, Grenier invites listeners into a world where every note feels like it was crafted with intention, every swell of strings whispers a story, and every piece echoes his lifelong devotion to classical composition.
Grenier has long been known for his deep-rooted love for orchestral music. Before establishing himself as a full-time composer, he worked within cultural circles, contributing to vocal and instrumental groups. That early collaborative spirit remains, but now it manifests in his masterful control over musical textures and structures that feel both intimate and expansive.
Drawing inspiration from classical giants like Mozart, Beethoven, and Mahler, Grenier doesn’t mimic the past—he converses with it. The Compilation Album is proof of that. More than a dozen carefully curated works pull from his rich catalogue, each brimming with a quiet majesty and a storytelling sensibility often reserved for film scores or ballet productions.
From the first track onward, there’s a sense that you’re being led through an emotional landscape: melancholic valleys, triumphant peaks, and still, reflective interludes. Grenier’s compositions don’t clamor for attention; they envelop the listener slowly, gracefully. They’re deeply human in their emotional range—rich in harmony, nuanced in rhythm, and filled with delicate shifts in tone that reflect his experienced ear.
The production is pristine, allowing the intricacy of his arrangements to truly shine. Whether it’s a stirring crescendo or a soft piano-led passage, the sound quality remains impeccable—nothing is lost, and everything feels intentional.
What truly sets this album apart, though, is its ability to feel both classical and current. There’s a timelessness to Grenier’s music. It doesn’t rush, it doesn’t boast—it simply is. And in a world oversaturated with quick hits and instant gratification, The Compilation Album is a refreshing reminder of the value in slowing down, in listening, in letting music unfold at its own pace.
With The Compilation Album, Raynald Grenier solidifies his reputation not only as a master composer but as a thoughtful curator of emotion and atmosphere. And if this is a glimpse into what’s to come with his forthcoming The Christmas Ballet later this year, listeners are in for yet another spellbinding experience.
Lost In Thought by Transverse

Transverse, the genre-blending brainchild of Kade Sanders, returns with a track that wears its heart on its sleeve and its pulse on the dancefloor. Lost In Thought is a compelling, genre-melting release that manages to wrap emo sentiment in a sun-drenched, feel-good blanket—a combination that shouldn't work, yet somehow lands beautifully.
Teaming up with emo rap artist AROB, Lost In Thought is an exploration of infatuation's highs and lows. The message? Love that’s so intoxicating, it borders on madness. It’s not a breakup anthem. It’s not quite a love song, either. It lives in the hazy, complicated middle—a refreshing space where obsessive adoration meets overwhelming emotional chaos. And it’s this honest emotional duality that gives the track its bite.
AROB’s lyricism hits a nerve with its poetic clichés—“you drive me crazy, but I love you”—but that’s the point. Transverse builds an instrumental landscape around that vulnerability that lifts rather than weighs it down. There’s a certain catharsis in the pairing of confessional, emo-inspired vocals with soaring, genre-fluid production. It’s EDM with an acoustic soul, pop with a melancholic twist, rock with a gentle hand.
Kade (aka Transverse) has said his goal is to make music that connects with different people by pulling from different genres—and it shows. The production is a balancing act: not too heavy, not too loud, but deliberately crafted to create space. There’s a softness, almost a gentleness, in the mix that invites listeners to feel without being overwhelmed. That restraint is rare in an EDM-influenced track, and it’s what makes Transverse’s sound stand out.
Unlike traditional pop or EDM that aims to fill the room, Lost In Thought seeps into it. It’s music meant to stay with you—like the echo of a late-night conversation or the memory of someone you shouldn’t still be thinking about. There’s a weight to the lightness, a feeling that this is more than just a catchy chorus. It’s therapy disguised as a vibe.
What really makes this record unique is the emotional range it offers within one track. Whether you’re in love, heartbroken, or just plain confused, Lost In Thought meets you where you are. It’s a song that doesn’t demand a mood—it creates one. And in a musical landscape often dominated by extremes, Transverse’s commitment to nuanced emotional storytelling through sound is not just refreshing, it’s vital.
In a world where music often chases virality, Lost In Thought chases connection—and it hits the mark. This is Transverse at his most human, his most vulnerable, and his most sonically adventurous. Don’t be surprised if you find yourself lost in thought long after the final beat fades.
Verdict: 9/10
A genre-defying, emotionally resonant standout that blends EDM, pop, and rock into a peaceful storm of feels. Transverse is definitely a name to remember.
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