Weekly Discover #49

Welcome to Weekly Discover 49. This isn’t just another playlist—it’s a snapshot of where music is right now, and where it’s headed.

Each track featured this week tells a different story. From smooth, introspective melodies to vibrant, high-energy anthems, there’s something here that resonates with every kind of listener. It’s a space where new voices emerge and familiar sounds are reimagined.

What makes this edition stand out is its bold mix of rising talent and genre-defying creativity. There’s a clear thread of evolution running through every beat and lyric—music that pushes boundaries while still holding on to its roots.

Weekly Discover 49 is about momentum. It captures the feeling of discovery and the thrill of finding something unexpected. Whether you’ve been following the series or you’re just jumping in, this is the kind of collection that invites curiosity.

Step into the world of 1111CR3W, where every track is handpicked with intention. Music isn’t just background noise here—it’s a language, a movement, a shared experience. Let the sound take you somewhere new.

TRYHARD – “Chest Pains”

There’s a moment in TRYHARD’s new single “Chest Pains”—right as the chorus swells with dizzying synths and a bruised vocal confession—where everything clicks. The pulsing bass, the raw desperation, the knowing smirk behind the lyrics. It’s the sound of someone spiraling into a bad decision with their eyes wide open. And somehow, you can’t look away.

After trading boardrooms for basslines, the Melbourne-based artist is back from a two-year hiatus with a vengeance. “Chest Pains” is his first release since becoming a qualified lawyer—an unlikely career twist that adds even more grit to the narrative. The track pulses with late-night tension, a dance-pop slow burn that sits somewhere between a heartache and a house banger. It’s reckless, emotional, and absurdly catchy—the kind of song that makes you want to cry in the club, but maybe with glitter on your face.

TRYHARD draws on the dark euphoria of artists like MEDUZA and RÜFÜS DU SOL, mixing hypnotic beats with the sting of emotional relapse. The production is brooding yet bold: haunted synth lines swirl beneath a beat that never lets up, while TRYHARD’s vocals teeter between control and collapse. “No one ever taught me how to learn from my mistakes,” he sings, almost as if he's already made peace with repeating them. “But damn I love these chest pains.” It’s that kind of lyric—the punchline of someone who knows better, but keeps coming back—that makes TRYHARD’s writing feel so visceral.

But this isn’t just a cathartic club track. It’s a statement. A line in the sand. The beginning of a new era. With his debut EP Sequel set to drop mid-2025, TRYHARD is proving he’s not here to tiptoe around the edges of pop—he’s here to bulldoze right through the middle. His previous singles “TOO REAL” and “Cold Feet” hinted at something bubbling beneath the surface, but “Chest Pains” feels like the explosion.

Press rollouts, TikTok teasers, Instagram drops—it’s all happening, but none of it feels manufactured. TRYHARD is calculated, yes, but never cold. Every move, every lyric, every beat carries weight. There’s a hunger in this new chapter that’s impossible to ignore.

In an industry often afraid of feeling too much, TRYHARD leans all the way in. “Chest Pains” isn’t just a song—it’s a high-speed collision between temptation and regret, wrapped in the kind of dancefloor-ready production that makes you want to feel something, anything, just a little too hard. And honestly? That’s the point.

TRYHARD’s not making a comeback. He’s making a statement. And it hits like a heartbeat you can’t calm down.

Casey Savage – Somethin' Bout A Bar

In a genre where storytelling reigns supreme, Casey Savage steps onto the country music stage with a debut single that doesn’t just tell a story—it invites you to live it. Somethin' Bout A Bar, recorded in an intimate home studio in Tennessee, is more than a song. It’s a love letter to nights out, unexpected friendships, and the magic that lives under neon lights and over clinking glasses.

Casey Savage, originally from Brisbane, Australia, found her musical home in Nashville, and you can hear it in every beat of this track. Born from a casual writing session in the very room where Florida Georgia Line’s “Cruise” was penned, Somethin' Bout A Bar carries the spirit of that space—spontaneous, bright, and bound to stick with you. The title itself came from a passing remark Casey made mid-session. “It’ll be somethin’ ‘bout a bar,” she said. And just like that, the song found its name and its heart.

But this isn’t your average beer-and-heartbreak country jam. What sets Somethin' Bout A Bar apart is its vivid, real-world texture. That hum of background noise? It’s not stock audio—it’s Casey’s friends, laughing, yeehawing, and even tossing in a few unscripted Southern catchphrases. One friend’s drawled “Where’d my drink go?” adds a quirky authenticity that transports you right into the barroom with them. It’s this level of detail, this personal imprint, that turns the song into an experience.

Lyrically, Casey brings charm and sincerity in equal measure. “I know there’s a barstool saved for me, thanks to all my girls here in Tennessee,” she sings, grounding the song in gratitude and belonging. It’s a tribute to the found family she’s made halfway across the world, and anyone who’s ever made a lifelong friend after a few too many rounds will feel seen.

There’s an effortlessness to the way Casey fuses the high spirits of a party anthem with the grounded warmth of a heartfelt memory. The production is crisp but not over-polished, allowing her personality to shine through in every verse. Credit for that goes to her now-producer (formerly her studio manager) and a gifted Texas-born songwriter—two creative allies she met through sheer courage and an email that changed her life. This team understands her voice, both literally and artistically.

Savage’s journey to this moment is as compelling as the track itself. A leap of faith led her from Australia to Music City, and now, with Somethin' Bout A Bar, she’s planted a firm flag in Nashville’s bustling scene. She’s not chasing trends—she’s carving out her own lane, one chorus at a time.

At its core, Somethin' Bout A Bar is a celebration—of moments that feel insignificant until they become unforgettable, and of the people who show up, beer in hand, when you least expect it but need them most. Casey Savage isn’t just making music; she’s capturing moments. And in this debut, she reminds us that sometimes, the best stories begin on a barstool.

Somethin' Bout A Bar isn’t just a promising debut—it’s a snapshot of an artist stepping confidently into her spotlight. Keep your eyes (and ears) on Casey Savage—this Aussie’s heart beats in Nashville time, and her story is only just beginning.

Vatnehall – Back to Life

There’s something undeniably compelling about a debut that hits as hard emotionally as it does sonically. With Back to Life, Vatnehall isn’t just making noise—they’re making a statement.

The Norwegian hard rock duo—comprised of seasoned veterans Svend Skogheim (drums, vocals, production) and Tage Johnsen (guitars, multi-instrumentation, production)—may be new under this moniker, but their musical pedigree runs deep. Skogheim’s intensity behind the kit has long driven the pulse of Stargazer and IceBridge, while Johnsen’s distinct melodic sensibility has helped define the sound of Grand Minor. But together, as Vatnehall, they’ve found something deeper—something more human.

Back to Life is more than a debut single; it’s a story wrapped in riffs, a personal triumph turned into a collective catharsis. Inspired by a friend’s real-life struggle with mental health and the long, uphill road to healing, the song feels raw, honest, and beautifully unvarnished. It opens with a slow-burning tension—tight, deliberate drums paired with a somber melodic line—before exploding into a fully realized hard rock anthem. There’s real craftsmanship in the way the track ebbs and flows, building toward its bold and emotionally charged chorus:

“Now she’s back, full of life and attack.”

Vocally, Skogheim carries the weight of the narrative with grit and vulnerability, striking that rare balance between power and empathy. Johnsen’s guitar work soars, particularly during a dramatic solo that hits like an emotional release—earned, not forced. Every note feels intentional, every beat part of the larger story being told.

Then there’s the video. Shot with cinematic clarity and featuring a striking performance by its lead actor, the visual component adds another layer to an already multi-dimensional work. It doesn’t just accompany the song—it enhances it, grounding its message in a visceral, relatable way.

What makes Back to Life special isn’t just its technical execution or the pedigree of its creators. It’s that it speaks to something universal: pain, perseverance, and the fight to reclaim one’s identity when the world turns away. It’s a track that doesn’t just echo in your ears—it lingers in your chest.

Vatnehall may have just arrived, but with a debut this self-assured and heartfelt, they’re clearly not here to test the waters. They’ve dived in headfirst, and Back to Life is the splash that demands your attention.

Arn-Identified Flying Objects and Alien Friends – Sing-Along Songs

If irony had a jukebox, “Sing-Along Songs” would be spinning on repeat.

With his latest release, Arn-Identified Flying Objects and Alien Friends continues to tread the curious line between tongue-in-cheek playfulness and melancholic bite. The track is all sunshine on the surface—jaunty melodies, handclaps, maybe even a dash of whimsy—but don’t let that fool you. Lurking beneath the cheerful arrangement is a sharp lyrical wit that takes subtle aim at the hollow optimism so often peddled in pop culture.

This duality isn’t new for Arn. As the solo offshoot of Swedish pop-rock outfit Redmoon, he’s been orbiting the indie scene with his peculiar blend of nostalgic hooks and wry storytelling since his 2020 debut Suck—a disco-tinged curveball that set the tone for what was to come. A string of singles followed, eventually leading to 2021’s sprawling double album 17 Birds at the Summer’s Gate, a lo-fi epic with both feet firmly planted in Americana’s golden soil.

Then came NO SWEETS FOR E., released in May 2023—a lovingly weird homage to dusty jukeboxes, ghost-town diners, and maybe, just maybe, the spirit of Elvis himself. That album marked a turning point. The arrangements grew more assured, the themes more poignant, and the humor more cutting.

Now with Sing-Along Songs, Arn is back, cheekily poking fun at the very idea of mass-appeal choruses, even as he delivers one. It’s a song that seems to grin as it goes, aware of its contradictions and happy to roll around in them.

Following the September 2024 release of “Happy People Won’t Hear”—a bittersweet gem that came in both English and Swedish—Sing-Along Songs feels like a natural next step: bright-eyed, sardonic, and deceptively deep. Rumor has it this track will land on a new album due in 2026, and if this is the flavor we can expect, it’s safe to say the wait will be worth it.

So, go ahead—sing along, if you dare. Just don’t expect to walk away without a smirk, or a little pang in the chest.

MC MAT-3 Finds Light in the Dark with “Heal”

In a world that often feels like it’s unraveling at the seams, MC MAT-3 delivers a timely reminder that healing is not only possible—it's necessary. His latest single, Heal, is more than a track; it’s a bold declaration of resilience wrapped in a thunderous beat and layered with deeply personal storytelling.

Hailing from Austin, TX, MC MAT-3 has always had a way of turning bars into blueprints for growth. Known for his faith-rooted message and sharp lyrical execution, he brings both fire and focus to this new offering. Heal doesn't shy away from the weight of pain or trauma. Instead, it stares it down and dares it to loosen its grip.

From the first bar, it's clear that Heal is a labor of love—a call to action for those wrestling with their past. MC MAT-3 walks a fine line between preacher and poet, delivering verses that feel just as comfortable in headphones as they would echoing through a sanctuary. “We all go through seasons of brokenness,” he shares in the rollout for the song, and that conviction bleeds into every second of the track.

The production hits hard, with a driving rhythm that gives the song its backbone, while the lyrics push forward like a testimony in motion. It’s the kind of track that makes you nod your head and check your soul in the same breath. And yet, for all its intensity, Heal is anchored in hope. It doesn’t glorify the struggle—it honors it, then points to something greater.

Listeners will find themselves revisiting Heal not just for its sonic grit, but for its honesty. MC MAT-3 doesn’t pretend to have all the answers, but what he does offer is something rare in music today: authenticity. That blend of rawness and reverence makes Heal one of his most compelling tracks to date.

For fans of Christian hip-hop—or anyone looking for music with purpose—Heal is a must-listen. It’s a reminder that faith and pain can coexist, and that healing begins the moment we believe we’re worthy of it.

Cael Anton – Got To Move

There’s something timeless about Cael Anton’s latest release, Got To Move. At first listen, it hits like a jolt of electric adrenaline—a rock anthem laced with groove, grit, and just enough nostalgia to tug at the soul. But it’s what lies beneath the surface that really makes this track stick.

Anton, the Canadian multi-instrumentalist and producer known for his genre-blurring soundscapes, brings his full toolkit to the table here. Gritty guitar riffs and a heartbeat drum groove serve as the engine, while warm synths and a soaring female chorus elevate the track into something that feels both rooted and futuristic. It's no surprise he describes it as reaching “back into ‘70s soul and rock” while blending it with modern production. That intention is crystal clear—and beautifully realized.

Lyrically, Got To Move speaks to a kind of restless transformation. It captures the urgency of wanting more, the moment where comfort becomes a cage and forward is the only direction left. Anton’s voice—rough-edged, full of soul—doesn’t just tell you that story, it lives in it. There’s weight in the verses, but when the chorus hits, it’s liberation. It’s motion. It’s the sound of shedding your skin and stepping into something new.

Sonically, it walks the line between throwback and next-gen with precision. Fans of artists like The Black Keys or Tame Impala will find a home here, but Cael doesn’t settle into imitation—he’s crafting his own lane. His background in scoring film and games comes through in the meticulous layering, the ebb and flow of the arrangement, and the way the song builds like a cinematic moment.

As the second single from his upcoming album Last Night in the City, Got To Move is a statement. It says Anton isn’t just experimenting anymore—he’s arrived at a sound that’s entirely his own. It grooves. It punches. And above all, it moves.

If Got To Move is any indication of what’s to come, Cael Anton’s next chapter will be one well worth chasing.

Mars - demo by Grampa Baby

An Intimate, Gritty Ode to Brave Love

In Mars - demo, Grampa Baby emerges not only as a musician but as a sonic diarist, channeling heartache, longing, and quiet resilience into a track that feels as raw as it is deliberate. Built entirely by the artist—written, performed, recorded, and produced solo—Mars is a deeply personal creation that bears the fingerprints of every emotional high and low that went into making it. There’s a fragility here, but it’s matched by a steadfast bravery—the kind that only comes from someone who’s fought hard to believe in love again.

Drawing inspiration from thinkers like bell hooks, Grampa Baby approaches songwriting with a kind of philosophical tenderness. The song isn’t just about romantic yearning; it’s a challenge to love more courageously, to wrestle with the vulnerability it demands, and to show up even when the outcome is uncertain. “Love takes courage,” he says, and the track pulses with that conviction.

There’s no army of producers or big-budget studio sheen here. This is bedroom-pop in the most literal and affecting sense. The demo was recorded in an unfurnished apartment in Florida after Grampa Baby dropped out of school in New York—a time and place he doesn’t necessarily look back on fondly, but one that clearly shaped the emotional topography of the track. There's something beautifully full-circle in the way such a transient, uncertain moment birthed a song so full of commitment.

Musically, Mars blends lo-fi grit with melodic sophistication. The guitars whine and crunch with emotional friction, layered carefully to create harmonies that feel spontaneous yet intentional. The vocals—sometimes filtered to echo the distortion of a fuzzy electric guitar—don’t try to be pristine. They breathe, crackle, and shimmer with a kind of imperfect honesty that’s sorely missing from much of today's overly polished soundscape. It’s evocative of Fiona Apple’s rawness, Weezer’s garage-band charm, and the soulful textures of Chaka Khan—artists Grampa Baby namechecks as key to helping him break out of a perfectionist headspace.

In fact, what makes Mars stand out most is its refusal to flinch. There’s no hiding behind layers of studio magic. It’s one song, one emotion, one apartment, and one artist asking someone—and maybe all of us—to take a leap with him.

Grampa Baby might not have finished the second verse. He cut it for length, choosing instead to let the instrumental breathe. But somehow, that silence at the end says as much as any lyric could. It’s an open door. An unfinished sentence. A final heartbeat.

As a debut, Mars - demo doesn’t just hint at potential—it delivers something that already feels substantial and resonant. And for anyone out there who’s ever doubted their ability to bring a creative vision to life, this record quietly—and powerfully—says: you can.