For those who never came across it, Nina is a free and independent music platform launched in 2021 as an alternative to the increasingly standardised world of music streaming. While most platforms compete on scale, convenience and algorithmic efficiency, Nina focused on something else entirely: direct support for artists, niche music communities, and genuine and human discovery.

As someone who has been slowly drifting away from Spotify over the past one or two years, Nina became one of my favourite ways to find new music. Not just through the platform itself, but through its editorial work and the scenes it highlighted.

What made Nina special wasn’t simply its business model. Fans could buy music directly from artists and labels, while creators kept all the revenue generated through sales. More importantly, it gave space to underground scenes and smaller communities that rarely fit into the logic of mainstream streaming. Opposing to the other streaming services, it felt like it was built around participation.

Unfortunately, passion alone isn’t always enough to survive. In a music economy that rewards scale above almost everything else, Nina struggled to attract the kind of rapid growth required to sustain itself.

Its closure made me think more directly about my own relationship with Spotify: the only thing keeping me subscribed to Spotify at this point is sentimental attachment. I’ve been using Spotify since I was sixteen, thousand of saved songs, playlist attached to specific years of my life, old discoveries, forgotten obsessions… It has effectively become an archive of my musical history.

Recently I realised that I barely use it the way I once did, so I considered downgrading my relationship with it: keeping the account as a reference library while stopping the monthly payments.

Spotify arrived at exactly the right historical moment. In the late 2000s it presented itself as the solution to music piracy: a legal, frictionless way to access an almost unlimited catalogue of music. For listeners, it felt revolutionary: instead of downloading and organising music yourself, an entire library was made available instantly for a modest subscription fee.

The problem is that the incentives built into the platform have always favoured scale. Spotify distributes royalties through a pro-rata model, where artists are paid according to the share of total streams they generate across the platform. In practice, this means that the bigger artists receive the largest portion of the money. More streams attract more visibility, more visibility generates more streams.

Recent policy changes have only reinforced that dynamic. Tracks that fail to reach minimum streaming thresholds effectively stop generating royalty payments, making it even harder for smaller artists to earn meaningful income for the platform.

But my growing distance from Spotify isn’t only about economics.

It’s also about predictability.

Sometimes it’s great having something chosen for you. If you’re out for a run, at the gym, cooking dinner or tidying your room, you don’t necessarily want to spend 20 minutes digging through Bandcamp pages or music blogs. Sometimes you just want music to be there, and recommendation algorithms are pretty good at that.

The problem is when convenience becomes your main way of listening.

I’m someone who tends to hyperfixate on tracks and artists for weeks, sometimes months. There’s comfort in that, repetition is part of listening behaviour. But once the fixation ends, I often realise I’ve been moving within the same small circle of sounds, so what’s the price of that comfort?

Comfort can become a trap: the more efficiently a platform learns your preferences, the less likely it is to challenge them, so discovery becomes optimisation and your taste is not expanded.

What is important to notice here, is also that Spotify and Nina emerged from fundamentally different impulses. Spotify’s founders approached music as a problem to solve through technology: unlimited access, frictionless consumption and scalable distribution. Nina came from people embedded within experimental and DIY music communities: they weren’t trying to optimise listening, they were trying to create different conditions for it, and that difference matters.

Over time, Spotify increasingly focused on what it calls “lean-back listening”: music that accompanies activities, playlists organised around moods – productivity and ambience became central to the platform’s identity. The consequence extend beyond listening habits. Artists adapt to the system that rewards them. If playlists favour unobtrusive music that blends seamlessly into cafes, offices, and study sessions, then there is a financial incentive to make music that does exactly that.

This raises a crucial question: is passive consumption becoming the ideal listener experience?

Streaming now dominates the music industry. In the UK, it accounts for the overwhelming majority of recorded music revenue, with Spotify remaining the market leader. Convenience has won. Most listeners understandably choose the platform that gives them immediate access to everything.

But convenience isn’t the same thing as discovery.

If anything, the decline of platforms like Nina makes discovery feel more important. We spend a lot of time worrying about AI replacing human labour, but we don’t spend enough time talking about what recommendation systems do to human taste.

Algorithms are useful. They have introduced me to artists I might never have encountered otherwise, rejecting them entirely would be pointless.

The issue is what happens when recommendation becomes the primary way we encounter culture.

When every suggestion is based on previous behaviour, the unfamiliar disappears and taste becomes increasingly self-reinforcing. You stop encountering things that seem strange or outside your interests, which are the ones that often reshape your perspective.

At some point is worth asking uncomfortable questions. Do I genuinely love this or have I simply been exposed to it often enough that it now feels pleasing?

Perhaps this is one reason why people increasingly seem exhausted by algorithmic feeds. Across digital culture there are signs of fatigue with systems that continuously predict what we want before we’ve had the chance to decide ourselves.

Nina’s closure doesn’t make me optimistic. If anything, it demonstrates how difficult is for alternatives to survive. Still, I don’t think the answer is nostalgia.

The answer is actively protecting spaces where discovery can happen. Go to small gigs, follow independent labels, read music magazines and blogs, seek out scenes that exist outside the centre of attention. Let recommendations come from friends, conversations and chance encounters instead of using exclusively platforms.

Most importantly, leave room for uncertainty. Good taste isn’t something an algorithm can perfectly optimise, it’s something that develops through curiosity, experimentation, and surprises.

That’s what made Nina valuable, and that’s what I hope it doesn’t disappear with it.

Though separated by nearly 3,000 kilometers (Jeff Louis is based in Austin and Leanne Macomber in Philadelphia), their creative connection remains undeniable. Across that distance, the pair maintain their gauzy synth textures, drum machine pulse, and intimate emotional tone.

The duo formed in 2007 when Macomber (also of Young Ejecta and Wet Eggs) was seeking a new direction for her lyrics and found a collaborator in Louis, whose arrangements help define their sound.

After a 14-year hiatus, Fight Bite returned with their new release, Party!, on 21 April 2026. During that time, Macomber relocated and worked with her other projects, but the duo continued exchanging music remotely.

“We’re not so much a band about evolution as we are about continuing to see how we connect and where we meet. Like a very innate childhood connection, it just sort of lives forever and grows.” – Leanne Macomber

Macomber has described the break as necessary, saying, “we really wanted to distill the best of both of our efforts.” The album was built through email exchanges. Sometimes Louis would send musical sketches for Macomber to add lyrics to, and other times she sent full demos for him to reshape. She calls it a “double blind process,” resulting in a record that balances dreamlike nostalgia with fresh, subtle experimentation.

The stand out track on the album is “Party (I Have Never),” which begins with a pulsing beat and the brilliant, haunting line “I have never been naked in front of a man before.” Another beautiful track is “Killer Whale,” which sounds like an undiscovered Julee Cruise track and features a spoken word section that echoes back to 60s girl groups like The Shangri-Las.

On Party!,the influence of Mazzy Star and This Mortal Coil are undeniable, but their influences are much broader. Macomber draws inspiration from cinema, which she works in, saying, “I’m always inspired by how the mind collages experiences and film is sort of the pinnacle expression of that.”

Louis highlights David Lynch’s film soundtracks as a key influence and adds that, despite Austin’s vibrant music scene, Macomber’s songwriting remains his biggest inspiration. Looking ahead, Macomber hopes to tour in the autumn, while Louis notes they have enough material for two albums.

Today, we are happy to debut his crepuscular new single “sun7”, before it officially goes live tomorrow. Led once again by e.v.a, a fictional avatar he introduced on previous releases, the track begins with scattered vocal chops and glowing synths, then slowly blooms into something brighter and more physical. There is a strong Y2K feeling in the way the voices flicker and bend, but “sun7” also carries house warmth, lo fi vibes, and a subtle touch of French House nostalgia. As Charly puts it, the track was imagined as a summer soundtrack: “warm, nostalgic and melancholic, like the end of a day at the beach or the last track of a rave at sunrise.” Listen and support below.

For those who follow left-of-centre pop, electronic music and adventurous club sounds, C2C Festival has long been one of the most exciting festivals in Europe. We went last year, and the experience confirmed what the line-up already suggested: this is a festival with a real point of view. It knows how to bring together big names, cult favourites and more experimental artists without making the programme feel random.

Among the new additions, The Avalanches are one of the biggest surprises. The Australian group, known for their sample-heavy, emotional collages, will play the opening night at OGR Torino. Their appearance comes as they are teasing their next chapter, following their 2020 album We Will Always Love You. And their recent single “Together,” featuring Nikki Nair, Jessy Lanza, and Prentiss, got us particularly excited.

Shygirl is another major addition. The London artist, who has become one of the most exciting voices in electronic pop, mixing club music, grime, R&B, hip hop and hyperpop, will perform in Italy for the very first time.

The announcement also brings Smerz back to the festival. Loyal readers will know that we have been following the Norwegian duo since “Because” in 2016. Their album Big City Life was one of last year’s most significant records, and they were also one of our highlights of the festival last year. In 2026, the duo will perform at Teatro Carignano for a special matinée. This is also one of the key pieces of news from the announcement: the historic Turin venue returns to the programme for the first time in eleven years.

Also joining the bill are Grouper, the much-loved project of Liz Harris, whose intimate ambient folk should make for one of the most beautiful moments of the closing day; ML Buch, one of the most interesting names from the new CPH scene; and Elias Rønnenfelt, frontman of Iceage, who arrives after a very prolific period including his solo album Speak Daggers and lucre, a collaborative project with Dean Blunt that was one of favourite releases of 2025.

C2C Festival 2026 will run from Thursday 29 October to Sunday 1 November. Tickets via DICE.

The origins of that image can be traced back to a photograph Björk encountered in Visionaries magazine. Shot by Nick Knight and art-directed by Alexander McQueen, it featured model Devon Aoki in a surreal, cold-toned composition that blended cultural references and fashion into something almost mythological. The image resonated deeply with Björk, who was already envisioning Homogenic as an exploration of identity, technology, and emotional intensity. She reached out to Knight and McQueen to collaborate on the album cover, asking them to help translate these ideas into a single, powerful visual.

At the heart of the concept was a character, a “warrior of love”. Björk imagined someone placed in such an extreme, impossible situation that transformation became necessary: not into a fighter armed with weapons, but into a figure who resists through emotional strength.

McQueen, working with stylist Katy England, constructed this character through clothing and symbolism. The kimono was handmade in his London studio from blue and white damask satin, woven with prunus blossom and lined in vivid scarlet. It referenced Japanese aesthetics, reflecting McQueen’s long-standing fascination with the culture, but like much of his work, it avoided simple imitation in favour of hybridisation.

That hybridity extended across the entire look. Björk‘s appearance combined multiple cultural influences: a coiled neckpiece by jeweller Shaun Leane inspired by the brass rings worn by Kayan Lanai women of Myanmar; elaborate hair shaped into sculptural forms reminiscent of Native American traditions; and highly stylised makeup and manicure. Together, these elements formed a kind of “global citizen” figure, something Björk herself identified with. As she described it, she often felt Icelandic abroad and cosmopolitan at home, constantly shifting between identities.

At the same moment as the Homogenic shoot, Alexander McQueen was developing his Elect Dissect haute couture collection for Givenchy (Autumn/Winter 1997-98). Like the album cover, the collection fused a wide range of global influences, drawing from tribal, ethnic, and historical references to construct a deliberately hybrid aesthetic. In the Paris show, the dramatic Masaai-inspired neckpiece created by Shaun Leane, first designed for Björk’s cover, reappeared in a more exaggerated, towering form. Elsewhere, the collection explored a strong vein of Japonisme, with kimono silhouettes, intricate oriental embroidery, and geisha-like hair styling echoing the visual language of the Homogenic image.

The shoot itself has become almost as legendary as the final image. according to Nick Knight, the cover photograph was the very first shot taken that day. McQueen saw the Polaroid, immediately recognised its strength, and left the studio within minutes, convinced they already had what they needed. Björk and Knight, however, continued shooting for several hours, producing hundreds of images – none of which matched the clarity of that first frame. No outtakes from the session have ever been released, reinforcing the almost mythic status of that singular image.

For Björk, embodying the character was physically demanding. She wore heavy sculptural hair, special contact lenses, restrictive clothing taped into place, and towering clogs that made movement difficult. The constraint was intentional, because the image needed to communicate a sense of pressure and containment, mirroring both the emotional tone of the album and her own experiences at the time.

Björk described the album as a return “home”, a deeper connection to Icelandic identity filtered through electronic experimentation. She immersed herself in London’s underground music scene while also drawing on traditional Icelandic vocal techniques, blending the organic with the synthetic. Thematically, the album explores the friction between nature and technology, intimacy and distance, fragility and resilience.

All of these ideas converge in the cover image, which is a visual manifesto, a figure suspended between cultures.

The legacy of the image extends beyond the album itself. The kimono worn by Björk was later sold at auction in 2016, while the cover continues to be cited as one of the most influential collaborations between fashion, photography, and music. More importantly, it crystallised Björk’s approach to artistry: not separating sound, image and identity, but weaving them into a single, unified expression.

True to the HighClouds spirit, we’ve once again tried to shine a light on overlooked releases and new or under-the-radar artists alongside some more familiar names. And yes… for the second year the same artist is topping our Best Songs list. At this point, it’s safe to say we’re obsessed. All of the tracks featured here (and many others) are also gathered in our Spotify playlist, that you can find below.

Thank you for reading, listening, and sharing music with us throughout 2025. We wish you a beautiful end of the year, and we’ll be back very soon in 2026 to share even more amazing music with you.

60 Avalon – Harder To Reach Than God
59 Farao – Waiting for You
58 Reggie Devoyage – Down Town
57 Nuovo Testamento – Picture Perfect
56 Yumi Zouma – Drag
55 Boyhood – A Grand Time
54 Danny L Harle; Caroline Polachek – Azimuth
53 Fernette – Lowlands
52 Jouska – Season of Dread
51 Charli xcx – Chains of Love

50 Pearly Drops – End Credits
49 Marina Zispin – Penthouse Samba
48 Boyish – Jumbos
47 Sword II – Sugarcane
46 TOPS – Chlorine
45 Robyn – Dopamine
44 The Deep – KPOP B!TCH
43 Juliana Madrid – Jamie
42 Men I Trust – Come Back Down
41 R. Missing – Telepolartears

40 Jenny Hval – The artist is absent – 89 seconds rewrite
39 Fontaines D.C. – Before You I Just Forget
38 hemlocke springs – the beginning of the end
37 Sea Lemon – Stay
36 Georgie & Joe – Pacemaker
35 Fine – I could
34 Jessy Lanza – Slapped By My Life
33 Arny Margret – Day Old Thoughts
32 Lipsticism – Erased
31 Clara Kimera; notinbed – angel candles

30 Neggy Gemmy – Mysterious Girl
29 Joanne Robertson; Oliver Coates – Always Were
28 Hannah Jadagu – My Love
27 HTRK – Swimming Pool
26 Night Tapes – television
25 Raisa K – Affectionately
24 helen island – hot zone, regular day
23 Dean Blunt; Elias Rønnenfelt – 1
22 Cole Pulice – After the Rain
21 crushed – starburn

20 AMORE – Delirio
19 Oneohtrix Point Never – Rodl Glide
18 Erika de Casier – Delusional
17 Judeline – chica de cristal
16 Dijon – Yamaha
15 Rochelle Jordan – Ladida
14 PinkPantheress – Illegal
13 Maria Somerville – Garden
12 Ethel Cain – Fuck Me Eyes
11 Sophia Stel – Everyone Falls Asleep In Their Own Time

10 Jim Legxacy – ’06 wayne rooney
9 Magdalena Bay – Human Happens
8 snuggle – Woman Lake
7 Addison Rae – Headphones On
6 After – 300 dreams
5 FKA twigs – Striptease
4 james K – Play
3 Nourished by Time – Max Potential
2 Smerz – You got time and I got money
1 Oklou – blade bird

So we thought we’d say it out loud, publicly, like this: we’re looking for someone to help us with socials.

This is not a “real job” in the traditional sense. We’re not gonna offer you a contract. HighClouds has never been a commercial project, it’s a passion-led music blog, built with love, curiosity, and a lot of unpaid hours by volunteers who genuinely care about music.

That said: we do want to value your time. This role comes with a small monthly compensation (not a full salary, but something steady to be discussed), plus perks like concert tickets, festival access, guest lists, and being part of a music universe we truly believe in.

Who this might be for:

This could be a great fit if you:

• Love leftfield, indie, dreamy, pop-adjacent music (of course that’s a must)
• Are studying or interested in digital communication, social media… We believe a student would be an ideal fit
• Enjoy creating content (whether it is fun, informative, engaging)
• Feel comfortable experimenting, or appearing in videos
• Speak English fluently
• Already know the HighClouds universe  (the artists we write about, the scenes we follow)
• We’re ideally looking for someone based in Madrid, so we can meet up, go to shows together, and feel a bit more “real-life”. That said, remote can totally work if the vibe is right.

What you’d actually do

• Help us keep HighClouds alive online (Instagram, and beyond)
• Turn articles, discoveries, and music obsessions into posts
• Interview some very cool artists
• Create Reels, carousels, stories, memes
• Bring your ideas, your humor, your references
• Care about the music, not just the metrics, and support less-known artists

If this sounds like you (or like someone you know), send us a message, an email, a DM, a voice note, a meme or whatever feels right. Tell us who you are, what you listen to, and why HighClouds speaks to you. Feel free to share this with someone you know. And let’s see where it goes. ✨

✍️ Our email: highcloudsradio at gmail dot com / Our IG: @highcloudsmag

We know these lists are completely subjective and that ranking music can feel a little weird at times but these are the records we’ve had on repeat over the past 12 months. More importantly, in a world increasingly shaped by algorithms, highlighting lesser-known and often overlooked artists remains the very essence of our blog. We hope you’ll take the time to dive into the artists and projects you might not know yet.

Like last year, the list is ordered alphabetically, because the “real” ranking changes every day depending on our mood. That said, if you’re looking for a top three, keep an eye on Oklou, Nourished By Time, and Smerz.

Merry Christmas to all of you, and stay tuned next week for our Best Songs of 2025 list.

The 47 EPs, Albums, And Mixtapes that defined 2025 according to HighClouds

Acopia – Blush Response
Addison Rae – Addison
After – After EP 1/2
AMORE – Top Hits, Ballads, etc
Annahstasia – Tether
crushed – no scope
Dean Blunt & Elias Rønnenfelt – lucre EP
deer park – Terra Infirma
Disiniblud – Disiniblud
Erika de Casier – Lifetime
Ethel Cain – Willoughby Tucker, I’ll Always Love You
FKA Twigs – Eusexua
Georgie & Joe – What I Made With Joe
Horsegirl – Phonetics On and On
Ichiko Aoba – Luminiscent Creatures
JADE – THAT’S SHOWBIZ BABY!
james K – Friend
Jane Inc. – A Rupture A Canyon A Birth
Jenny Hval – Iris Silver Mist
Jim Legxacy – black british music (2025)
Joanne Robertson – Blurrr
Jouska – How Did I Wind Up Here?
Laura Groves – Yes
Lipsticism – Wanted To Show You
Malibu – Vanities
Maria Somerville – Luster
Marina Zispin – Now You See Me, Now You Don’t
Men I Trust – Equus Caballus / Equus Asinus
Molly Nilsson – Amateur
Neggy Gemmy – She Comes From Nowhere
Night Tapes – portals//polarities
No Joy – Bugland
Nourished By Time – The Passionate Ones
Nuovo Testamento – Trouble EP
Oklou – Choke Enough
Oneohtrix Point Never – Tranquilizer
Panda Bear – Sinister Grift
Pearly Drops – The Voices Are Coming Back
R. Missing – Like The Sound Of Injured Love
Raisa K – Affectionately
Rat Heart – Dancin’ In The Streets
Sea Lemon – Diving For A Prize
Smerz – Big City Life
snuggle – Goodbyehouse
Sofia Kourtesis – Volver EP
Sophia Stel – How To Win At Solitaire EP
Yawning Portal – Anywhere