New Artist Spotlight

Crash Worlds’s artist page HERE

When I first saw the title “Cup of Coffee,” I immediately pictured a cozy, café-themed track filled with warm, laid-back melodies—something about morning routines or quiet conversations over a fresh brew. I couldn’t have been more wrong, and I couldn’t be happier about that delightful surprise.

The song opens with a gentle acoustic guitar paired with soaring violins that feel less like background accompaniment and more like a heartfelt invitation to lean in and listen closely. This organic introduction is a breath of fresh air in an era often dominated by electronic production, setting a tone that is both intimate and expansive from the very first note. As the track unfolds, a rich organ weaves through the background, adding depth without overwhelming the core arrangement, while subtle backing vocals provide just the right amount of emotional weight to carry the message forward.

What truly sets “Cup of Coffee” apart is its powerful thematic focus on resilience and perspective. It’s the kind of song that wraps around you like a blanket, encouraging forgiveness and the ability to let go of the things we can’t change. The lyrics capture this sentiment perfectly:

“These are days where love is all we’ve got / These are days where we can’t connect the dots / These are days where we don’t feel in control”—a concise reflection of life’s unpredictable nature and the choice we have to respond with grace rather than frustration.

The track reminds us that while circumstances may be out of our hands, our reactions remain firmly within our control. Crash World has crafted a piece that balances musical beauty with meaningful storytelling, proving that sometimes the best surprises come when our expectations are turned completely upside down.

Nung una kong nakita yung pamagat na “Cup of Coffee,” akala ko talaga parang kantang pang-kapehan lang ito—yung tipo na mainit at relaxed, parang makikita mo pa yung sarili mong nakaupo sa isang maliit na kainan, may hawak na mainit na tasa habang nakikinig sa mahinahong tugtog. Akala ko mga usapan tungkol sa umaga, sa mga simpleng kasiyahan, o baka naman tungkol sa pagkakaibigan o pag-ibig na parang kape—mainit at nakakapagpakalma. Pero hindi pala ganun! At sobrang saya ko talaga sa ganoong sorpresa; swerte ko naman na napakinggan ko ito!

Bumukas yung kanta sa mahinahong tugtog ng acoustic guitar—yung tunog na parang kausap ka lang ng kaibigan, tahimik pero puno ng emosyon. Tapos biglang sumunod yung mga biyolin na parang hindi lang tugtog, kundi parang inimbita ka talaga na tumigil muna sa ginagawa, umupo ng maayos, at makinig ng buong puso. Ang ganda talaga ng simula niya—kakaiba kasi ngayon karamihan sa mga kanta ay puro elektronikong tunog na, medyo mabigat sa tenga minsan. Pero itong intro na ’to, sobrang natural at organic—parang hininga ng sariwang hangin na kailangan mo pala talaga.

Habang tumatagal yung kanta, biglang may naririnig kang organ sa background na hindi naman nakakasira o nakakasagabal sa pangunahing tugtog. Sa halip, nagdaragdag pa ito ng lalim at kulay sa buong kanta. Tapos yung mga tahimik pang kasamang boses—hindi sila sumisigaw o nanghihimasok; sakto lang ang damdaming ibinibigay para mas ma-feel mo talaga yung mensahe ng kanta.

Pero ang pinakamaganda at pinakamakapangyarihan sa “Cup of Coffee” ay yung mensahe nito tungkol sa buhay at kung paano natin ito dapat harapin. Parang yakap ka niya ng mahigpit, parang sinasabing, “Okay lang ’yan—pwede mong ipagpatawad at bitawan yung mga bagay na hindi natin maibabago.” Tama talaga yung liriko na nagsasabing:

“These are days where love is all we’ve got / These are days where we can’t connect the dots / These are days where we don’t feel in control.”

Eksakto yun. Minsan talaga hindi natin alam kung ano ang nangyayari—parang gulo ang lahat at wala tayong magawa kundi panoorin lang. Pero ipinapaalala ng kanta na kahit ganun, nasa atin pa rin ang pagpili: kung paano tayo kikilos, kung paano natin haharapin ang lahat, at kung paano natin gagamitin ang pag-ibig at pag-unawa para malampasan ang mga problema.

Ang galing talaga ng Crash World dito—napakahusay nilang pinaghalo ang magandang tugtog at makabuluhang kuwento. Patunay lang na minsan, mas masarap at mas makabuluhan ang mga bagay na hindi natin inaasahan. Hindi ko inakala na ang isang kantang akala ko’y tungkol lang sa kape ay magiging isa sa mga kantang magbibigay sa akin ng lakas at pag-asa.

This review was submitted by fellow NAS artist Emerson B. Ocampo.

Their Spotify Artist page can be found HERE

David Von Beahm’s artist page is HERE

I fell in love with ’80s synth-pop back in the early 2000s, and that love has never left me. If I have a choice of what station to listen to on SiriusXM radio, I’m choosing First Wave. A station that plays all the alternative ’80s acts I love—Echo & the Bunnymen, Depeche Mode, and New Order? Yes, please.

I mention that because The Glass Notebook is exactly the kind of song that would feel at home on First Wave. It sounds like something that could have been played on WLIR or KROQ back in the day, but the more modern production means everything is more upfront and louder than anything from the mid-’80s. This was another song that randomly came up on the NAS playlists and immediately hooked me. It’s got that throwback ’80s sound I love, along with some really beautiful lyrics that genuinely touched me.

Like a lot of the great ’80s songs I love—such as First Picture of You by The Lotus Eaters or Running Up That Hill by Kate Bush—The Glass Notebook takes a little time to get going. It opens with a fingerpicked guitar riff and light cymbals before the drums and other instruments rush in with urgency. When the vocals arrive, I immediately get strong ’80s vibes from David’s voice.

The structure of this song is particularly intriguing. The intro is a bit long, the verse that follows is rather short, and then it lifts into the chorus. The chorus is where we discover what the title means. What is a glass notebook? To me, it represents the transience of life and memory—the idea that everything you are could fall apart in an instant.

“I wrote my life in a glass notebook

but I threw it to the ground and it shattered to pieces,

my fractured words of a fragmented world,

I left them lying there as my final releases.”

From there, each verse introduces a different melody from the last. The only constant is the chorus melody, which returns twice at the end. It’s a really cool structure—one you don’t often hear outside of more alternative music.

With its unmistakable ’80s atmosphere and cryptic yet emotional lyrics, The Glass Notebook is a perfect slice of modern music that sounds like it could be from the ’80s—but isn’t. Ideal for fans of alternative ’80s acts like Echo & the Bunnymen and The Fixx.

This review was submitted by fellow NAS artist Lavender Fire.

There Spotify Artist page can be found HERE

.H.M’s artist page HERE

When I first listened to “My Open Hand” by J.H.M., I wasn’t sure what to expect. The opening is built around acoustic guitars with a sound that feels distinctly rooted in the 1990s. The tone is so evocative that R.E.M. came to mind almost automatically—not because the song imitates R.E.M., but because that guitar sound is closely associated with them in my own musical memory.

At first, the introduction lasts longer than expected. It creates a tranquil space that feels as though it might never leave that moment. Then, after a very short but dry fill, the bass and drums enter. They aren’t flashy or overly dramatic, yet their arrival quickly brings the music down to earth. Up to this point, the song feels like it has been hovering rather than moving forward; once the rhythm section enters, it gains direction and momentum.

The rhythm section never tries to call attention to itself—they simply do exactly what the song needs. Even in its quieter moments, the track never fully rests. There’s a subtle sense of movement throughout, small but significant, that keeps the song alive.

Vocally, J.H.M.’s delivery is darker than expected. Rather than sounding overly polished or performative, the vocals are slightly ragged and unmistakably human. While the lyrics touch on promises, they aren’t presented in a comforting or uplifting way. Instead, there’s a lingering sense of incompleteness that adds emotional weight.

At first, the chorus may not feel particularly impactful. You might hear it as just another part of a song you’re not fully paying attention to. But as it repeats throughout the track, it slowly becomes familiar and eventually settles into your mind—not in an irritating way, but like an echo. Over time, you begin to notice smaller details you might have missed on earlier listens.

What makes this song special is the way it rewards patience. That patience is what gives it a feeling of life. The song feels alive, wrapping around you like an embrace.

Near the end, the instrumentation is stripped down almost entirely, leaving only voice and guitar. This raw moment feels exposed, unguarded, and perhaps a little vulnerable. Most songs would build toward a crescendo from here, but this one takes the opposite approach. When the chorus returns, it doesn’t arrive as a dramatic buildup—it feels like a landing, as though the song has finally said everything it needed to say. It’s understated, but very well executed.

There’s something quietly impressive about how everything fits together. The song doesn’t demand attention, doesn’t try to impress, and never feels flashy. You have to meet it halfway—and if you do, it rewards you. It’s the kind of track that lingers after it ends, not through force but through subtlety, making you want to listen again just to catch the details you might have missed.

This review was submitted by fellow NAS artist Arnoldos’s Lizards.

There Spotify Artist page can be found HERE.