Artist Reviews

  • Why I Love This NAS Song: “Pet Sounds” by Fear 2 Stop

    Why I Love This NAS Song: “Pet Sounds” by Fear 2 Stop

    Fear 2 Stop’s artist page is HERE

    Después de mucho tiempo, logré entender que la música es libre y que en cada composición habita la esencia imborrable del creador. Escuchar piezas que desafían ciertos patrones culturales establecidos y las estructuras comerciales es un ejercicio refrescante, casi necesario, para el oído.

    La obra “Pet Sounds”, del artista Fear 2 Stop, se presenta precisamente como ese tipo de desafío: un juego sonoro. Su inicio evoca de inmediato la tensión minimalista de la película Tiburón (Jaws), pieza compuesta por John Williams. Sin embargo, la canción se transforma casi de inmediato, envolviéndonos en una atmósfera especial. Sus matices agudos hacen pensar en las melodías de Brian Wilson, integrante de The Beach Boys, y aunque quizá sea solo una coincidencia que esta canción comparta nombre con el álbum de 1966, es un detalle imposible de ignorar. Al crear música, la información almacenada en el inconsciente a menudo se expresa de formas misteriosas.

    Lo valioso es que “Pet Sounds” no intenta imitar el pasado, sino que lo utiliza como cimiento conceptual para construir una identidad propia. Es una narrativa de texturas, donde el silencio y la nota sostenida tienen tanto peso como el riff más enérgico, creando un contraste que mantiene atento al oyente. Al ser una pieza sin palabras, se potencia la comunicación emocional, y el rango de interpretación se vuelve infinito y profundamente personal.

    Te invito a escuchar “Pet Sounds” y a escribir en los comentarios: ¿qué recuerdos o imágenes estimuló en ti?

    This review was submitted by fellow NAS artist: Senti-Ente

    Their artist page can be found HERE

  • Why I Love This NAS Song: “Time is a Weapon” by Julience

    Why I Love This NAS Song: “Time is a Weapon” by Julience

    Julience’s Artist Page is HERE

    From the moment the first notes hit, “Time Is a Weapon” by Julience seizes attention with an intro that feels both fresh and strangely familiar. Driving bass lines lock in with punchy drums and gritty guitars, a combination that instantly hooks the ear and signals to the subconscious: this is going to be something special.

    Breaking free from conventional verse-chorus structures, the track plunges directly into its core thesis, refusing to waste a moment on setup as it lays out why time itself qualifies as a weapon. Julience’s rock vocals strike a perfect balance between clarity and raw emotion; every word cuts through the mix with purpose, while his delivery carries the weight of the song’s heavy themes.

    Adding to the track’s intimacy is the fact that, according to his artist bio, he performs all the instrumentals himself. Each riff, beat, and melodic layer is thoughtfully composed, never overpowering the message but always enhancing it with tasteful precision.

    Yet the true highlight lies in the meticulously crafted lyrics. The theme is relentlessly bleak, skirting the edges of cosmic horror and absurdist philosophy. Here, time is not merely a passive force of passage; it is an active agent, dismantling lives with neither malice nor mercy. It erodes human ambition until grand plans feel trivial, fades love into echoes, and even devours memory, leaving “not a trace” of what once was. Time is short, I guess, for those who do not know hope.

    Beneath the surface runs a subtle but sharp critique of free will. We convince ourselves we hold control: scheduling days, chasing goals, and boasting of making the most of time. But the song frames time as the one truly in command, its fingers wrapped around a loaded gun we never see coming.

    The repeated phrase “Time is…” creates a hypnotic, dirge-like rhythm, each iteration hammering home the point with the steady, unyielding cadence of a funeral march. It is a stark reminder that, in the end, time does not serve us; it simply claims what is its own.

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

    Their artist page can be found HERE

  • Why I Love This NAS Song: “The Perfect Clown” by Julien Delaye

    Why I Love This NAS Song: “The Perfect Clown” by Julien Delaye

    Julien Delaye’s Artist Page is HERE

    This one hits different. Julien Delaye drops “The Perfect Clown” and it feels like a slow-rolling thunderhead, ominous and threatening. Sullen from the first note, dark in the way old desert towns feel after midnight, with just enough spaghetti western dust kicked up in the mix to make you even more curious. The whole track breathes heavily, deliberately, and without hurry.

    That voice. Deep, resonant, carved out of something too wise for your average rock song. It carries the same weight I hear in Mike Patton when he steps back from the chaos and lets the quiet hurt speak. Nothing wild here, no acrobatics. Just steady, unflinching delivery that pulls you in to hear his confession. A slow tempo keeps everything grounded, almost stubborn in its straightforward march. There are no tricks, no flourishes to hide behind. The music trusts the story to carry most of the weight.

    The guitars sit perfectly in that sparse landscape. A mild tremolo runs through them, giving every chord and solo a slight, uneasy waver, like the air above scalding asphalt. It never feels gimmicky; the effect locks in exactly where it belongs, adding this thin layer of distortion to the emotion without ever overwhelming it. Textures build in richness but stay restrained. Layers of guitar reverb drift in, creating space for the vocal to sit in front while the band drive an underlying pulse.

    Then come the lyrics… Brutal in their clarity. They trace a night that starts with the familiar pull of chasing more, always more, even when the body already screams overload. The lyricist pushes deeper into the high, loses the reins completely, collapses into that final, humiliating freefall. Ambulance lights flash in the telling. The so-called friends? They scatter when the real cost shows up. No hand extended, no lingering. Just abandonment, cold and complete. 

    The song’s portrayal of isolation after the party ends is something many can relate to. On those nights when support vanishes you’re left to face your own choices. Delaye’s honesty resonates with anyone who’s ever felt abandoned. He paints it without melodrama, letting the plain facts sting without shouting. It is tragic, self-inflicted, and unflinchingly honest about how isolation arrives when the party ends.

    What stays with me is how the song refuses simple pity. It stares straight at the wreckage, the clown makeup smeared across a face that knows better but keeps performing anyway. The title says it all. Perfect in its broken performance, perfect in the way it fools no one anymore, least of all itself.

    This is the kind of track that rewards late-night listens when the place is quiet and your own demons feel closer. Delaye, coming from those heavier past lives in metal and rock bands, has stripped everything down to bone here. The result feels lived-in, earned. “The Perfect Clown” is stark, emotional, and quietly devastating. It lingers long after the final chord fades, a reminder that some nights don’t let you walk away clean.

    This review was submitted by fellow NAS artist: InnovaniacMusic

    Their artist page can be found HERE

  • Why I Love This NAS Song: “Face Tomorrow” Acoustic Version by Panem

    Why I Love This NAS Song: “Face Tomorrow” Acoustic Version by Panem

    Panem’s Artist Page is Here

    I’ve had the opportunity to listen to this version several times, and to truly appreciate it, I also watched the official video on YouTube. What immediately struck me was the clean, enveloping sound of the acoustic guitar, which dominates the composition and accompanies every part of the song with great personality. The guitarist, the absolute protagonist of this version, demonstrates extraordinary creativity: his riffs, rhythms, and solos are never banal, but instead integrate perfectly with the mood of the song, giving it a unique identity. Each note seems carefully chosen and conveys an emotional depth that truly impressed me.

    Equally important is the role of the band as a whole. It’s not just the guitarist: the bass adds surprising melodic and rhythmic lines, along with unexpected notes, keeping the listener engaged. The drums are masterfully executed, balanced, and precise, supporting the song without ever overwhelming it. I also noticed a very distinctive cymbal in the drum kit. Finally, the singer is extraordinary: her voice has intensity, color, and nuance that make every word meaningful, perfectly complementing the atmosphere created by the instruments. The entire performance gives the impression of a group playing in complete harmony, where each member contributes at the highest level without ever stealing the spotlight from the others.

    The acoustic version of “Face Tomorrow” manages to convey a new perspective on the original song: more intimate, warmer, yet equally powerful. It is clear that the song is not only technically well executed, but also deeply emotional, engaging the listener in an authentic and profound way. This blend of technique, feeling, and harmony among the musicians truly impressed me.

    For all these reasons, I highly recommend listening to “Face Tomorrow – Acoustic Version” and watching the official video on YouTube. The video, besides being well made, highlights the band’s chemistry and the individual musicians’ skill, allowing you to appreciate every nuance of the song even more. In a musical landscape with so many options, it is rare to encounter a performance as complete and engaging as this one, and I think anyone with a passion for music should dedicate a few minutes to this experience.

    This review was submitted by fellow NAS artist: Red Sunset

    Their artist page can be found HERE

  • Why I Love This NAS Song: “I Walk Alone” by Wanaka from the album Kingdom of Lizards

    Why I Love This NAS Song: “I Walk Alone” by Wanaka from the album Kingdom of Lizards

    Wanaka’s artist page is HERE

    When I first saw “I Walk Alone,” I pictured a brooding indie rocker—gritty guitars, songs about urban isolation, defiant shouts. I was completely off base, and what a beautiful surprise that turned out to be.

    It opens with gentle acoustic strums, like footsteps on a misty forest path, pulling you into introspection. Delicate folk melodies weave around a voice of quiet determination—mature and understated, as if Wanaka were whispering secrets to the stars alone. A soft rhythm builds like desert rain, adding depth without excess: pure indie-folk elegance set against polished pop.

    “I Walk Alone” shines through its theme of self-reliance and release. It guides the listener through solitary paths in life, urging you to embrace the solo journey: “I walk alone / This so-called desert is no home / The rain is finally here.” Lines like “Stars above reading through me like an open book” capture a sense of peace in solitude—carrying scars, letting old flames turn to ashes, and paving your own road.

    Wanaka blends haunting beauty with empowering storytelling, turning melancholy into strength. This NAS gem proves that the strongest journeys are often solo—full of growth and unbreakable spirit.

    This review was submitted by fellow NAS artist: musik.poet

    Their artist page can be found HERE

  • Why I Love This NAS Song: “Tan Humanos” by Proyecto AuRICULAR

    Why I Love This NAS Song: “Tan Humanos” by Proyecto AuRICULAR

    Proyecto AuRICULAR’s artist page is HERE

    “Tan Humanos” by Proyecto AuRICULAR: A Song for Being

    It is a cold afternoon in Mexico City, a good moment to drink a coffee, take a break, and listen to music. The chosen coffee bean is from Oaxaca; the music is jazz fusion; the grind is medium, because the coffee will be an Americano; and my Moka Express coffee maker has a faulty gasket. Let’s listen.

    But what is this: jazz fusion, Americano coffee, Oaxacan beans, an Italian coffee maker?

    Yes, that is Mexico: a cosmopolitan city where one lives, listens, feels, and breathes a mix of many cultures. A place where music is part of everyday life; it accompanies you on public transportation, in shops and markets, and in domestic routines. And no, Mexico does not look sepia; sometimes there is pollution, but the levels never turn the city that color. From this very city comes the artist featured in this review.

    The coffee is ready—sip, and let the music play.

    A sweet sound from a Rhodes piano breaks the silence. Soft and delicate, like coffee steam in the air, with its characteristic stereo tremolo. The harmonies grow more complex, and each new chord is a surprise that refreshes the ear and carries the music forward.

    Twenty seconds in, the right moment arrives for the entrance of drums, bass, and voice—but this is no ordinary voice. A soft, airy voice, perfectly placed in a middle register, as if emerging from the piano’s overtones: it is the voice of Pam Suárez, who opens the lyrics with the line:

    “Es el aire

    Es el aire el viento

    Respirar”

    The vocal EQ in the mix keeps the words clearly defined, and the subtle echo gives them an ethereal sense of fragility. An electric guitar in the background follows the voice without taking center stage, guiding the music toward the pre-chorus, intelligently brightened by a triangle.

    “Sueño entre mis sueños

    La piel de tu espacio

    Exhalar en esta luz

    Sin descanso”

    The chorus arrives, and it is time for the voice to shine in a higher register. The drums remain simple, never shouting; the triangle fades out; a discreet pad with its own personality enters; and a guitar—yes, I think it is a guitar—softened with reverb, counterpoints the voice.

    “En el aire

    Donde todo sigue

    Donde eres tú

    Donde siempre vives”

    Let’s talk about the lyrics, because this is no ordinary set of words. It is a song by Carlos Castañeda—wait, not the Carlos Castañeda you are thinking of, although there is something of that other one here, not in the shamanic imagery, but in a deeper way of conceiving experience. The lyrics do not aim to explain or narrate; they create a space to inhabit and breathe, to be with the air, as if consciousness were seeking its place in the body before the mind.

    The way the lyrics are arranged on the page recalls the fragmentary writing found in Octavio Paz’s poetry, leaving room “on the paper,” and in time itself, for breathing and reflection.

    And who is the author? Carlos Francisco Castañeda Girón (bass, guitar, and programming), who, together with Pam Suárez, forms Proyecto AuRICULAR. Yes, I wrote it correctly. I suppose “Au” refers to gold, since it appears as a separate syllable in the design of their profile image—or perhaps I am just imagining things.

    After the chorus comes… you know it doesn’t.

    Although I could talk about the timbral beauty of the piano chords shaped by Olawepo Tayo, the elegance of the guitar, the balance of the mix, and the softness of the voice, it is impossible for you to feel it simply by reading these lines. From here on, you have to go listen to it and experience it for yourself.

    I know, I know—you were left wanting to read more; that will be for next time.

    For now, I can only conclude that “Tan Humanos,” by Proyecto AuRICULAR, is a song in which every sonic element manages to turn listening into a space simply to be, to breathe, and to be that which makes us only human.

    The cup is empty. I’m Adán Ramírez. Greetings from the Great Tenochtitlán.

    This review was submitted by fellow NAS artist: Adán Ramírez

    Their artist page can be found HERE

  • Why I Love This NAS Song: “988” by Jacob Merrithew

    Why I Love This NAS Song: “988” by Jacob Merrithew

    Jacob Merrithew’s artist page is HERE

    Jacob Merrithew’s song “988” is a truly remarkable and intimate track, standing out in today’s music landscape, which is often dominated by autotuned vocals and overly polished productions. The sheer rawness of his performance immediately captured my attention. It felt incredibly honest, as though Jacob were pouring his heart and soul directly into the microphone. This authenticity is a breath of fresh air, creating a connection that polished, faultless recordings sometimes lack.

    The message embedded within “988” carries significant weight, with a depth that resonates long after the final note fades. I deliberately won’t delve into the specifics of that message, as I believe it is something each listener should experience and interpret for themselves. The power of the song lies in its ability to evoke personal reflection and understanding.

    What initially struck me was the song’s opening. It began with what I perceived as a tranquil, lo-fi piano piece, setting a serene and slightly melancholic atmosphere. This gentle introduction slowly builds, hinting at the emotional journey that lies ahead. It is a testament to Merrithew’s artistry that he can draw you in with such subtlety, preparing the listener for the profound narrative that unfolds.

    “988” is not just a song; it is an experience—a poignant reminder of the beauty found in unvarnished expression and genuine emotion. It is a track that demands your full attention and rewards it with a truly moving auditory journey.

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

    Their artist page can be found HERE

  • Why I Love This NAS Song:  “Come The End” by Charles Connolly from the album Hands Up

    Why I Love This NAS Song: “Come The End” by Charles Connolly from the album Hands Up

    Charles Connelly’s artist page is HERE

    My usual standard to gauge if a song is good is what I call “the Street Hummability Factor”; in other words: how often do I find myself humming a song while I’m walking down the street.

    When talking about NAS songs, there are quite a few songs that meet this criteria: mentioning them one by one would make this review unnecesarily long. But there is one that has been UNDOUBTEDLY the most Street-Hummable song on NAS.

    Charles Connolly’s “Come The End”

    The virtues of the song speak for themselves. There’s no need of me mentioning the brilliant arranging, the great mix or the beautiful sonic palette; it would be much easier for me to just dwelve into the technical side of things, but this would bore most readers who aren’t audio-oriented.

    I wanna focus on two things really, and the main reasons why I love this song. The first one being Charles’ vocals and how they mutate along the piece. For those of us who are really familiar with his catalog, Charles hangs in the “light tenor” range for most of his song. But this song hits differenty: “CTE” is sung with a solemn feel to it. While not exceptionally low for him, he goes low enough for the lyrics to hit deep (no pun intended). And when the drums come in, the solemnity is replaced with sheer determination. But still retaining that “X factor” that makes his vocals so appealing to me.

    The second motive are the lyrics, and how they strongly resonate with me. The fear of insignificance.

    I was once asked by my sister, as part of a public exercise, along with 50 other people, to write down our greatest fears on a piece of paper and then put it in a box. After a long time and serious consideration, I added my own piece of paper to the box.

    OBLIVION.

    Being forgotten. Not being remembered. Not making enough of a mark on the world, or on the people closest to me. Having my name fade away shortly after death. It’s not a fear of dying; it’s perhaps… a fear of dying in vain.

    Come the end, I just wanna feel your pride

    More than I do at this present time

    Come the end, I just wanna make you proud

    You’re allowed to shed a tear now

    At its core, “Come The End” is a heartfelt self-examination about life, death, and how we are remembered. It is not just about the fear of death, but more about wanting to live in a way that brings pride, meaning, and connection with others.

    There are two songs on NAS that I love but did not write myself. One of them is JHM’s “Into The Wilderness.” “Come The End” is the other. And when you combine a brilliant song with great vocals, strong arrangements, and a beautiful overall presentation, you get a truly street-hummable tune.

    And that is why I love this song.

    This review was submitted by fellow NAS artist: Andres Guazzelli

    Their artist page can be found HERE

  • Why I Love This NAS Song:  “Remedy” by Coumarin

    Why I Love This NAS Song: “Remedy” by Coumarin

    Coumarin’s artist’s page is HERE

    One of my favourite discoveries on the NAS playlists is a spacey indie rock song called Remedy, one of many singles from Stuttgart, Germany–based artist Coumarin. I was immediately drawn in by the swirling synths, atmospheric guitar, and the catchy chorus melody. What I really love is how quietly the song begins. When you first put it on, you barely hear anything at all. It starts with a droning guitar, and then suddenly the drums, instruments, and vocals all arrive together. What follows are evocative lines that perfectly paint the picture of a relationship that has fallen apart, yet one where the speaker still carries deep feelings for the other person.

    I’m digging out my heart today

    Hanging in the burning rain

    Look at what our love became

    Swirling synths and propulsive drums keep everything moving steadily toward the chorus, where you might expect some kind of explosion. Instead, the instruments drop out, leaving us with utterly devastating, emotional lyrics:

    Even through fire and hail

    You erased all the pain in me, baby

    Through every hurricane

    All the rain ricocheted

    You used to be my remedy

    These lyrics reminded me so strongly of relationships I’ve been in—times when lingering feelings remained, when the other person once felt like everything, but no longer was. That longing for what used to be, for the good the other person brought into your life, is at the heart of this song. I’ve known many people who’ve left that kind of imprint, where letting go is incredibly difficult. That sense of devastation—of losing something that once healed you but now can’t—carries straight into the next verse.

    The song largely stays in this emotional space, with the exception of the chorus, where a few synth layers drop out and the words come sharply into focus. The vocals are never pushed, and that restraint is essential. I wouldn’t like this song nearly as much if they were. The protagonist is sad and wounded, and that’s exactly how the voice sounds. The melody doesn’t span a wide range; instead, it stays almost conversational, like someone sitting across the table quietly telling you how they feel.

    I’m a sucker for this kind of atmospheric synth pop. It reminds me of the best moments from Sir Sly’s debut album You Haunt Me, mixed with touches of Nested for Rest, and a little Depeche Mode for good measure. If this is your kind of music, you’ll love this song. And once it really sinks in what it’s about, you may find yourself reeling—emotionally undone, reminded of relationships much like the one being described here. I know I was.

    This review was submitted by fellow NAS artist: Lavender Fire

    Their artist page can be found HERE

  • We I Love This NAS Song: “Reflejos lejanos” by Soledad Sonora

    We I Love This NAS Song: “Reflejos lejanos” by Soledad Sonora

    Soledad Sonora’s artist page is HERE

    Reflejos lejanos avanza sin prisa. Desde el primer momento, la propuesta de Soledad Sonora deja claro que no busca imponerse, sino acompañar. Es una canción pausada y minimalista, construida desde la sensibilidad, donde cada sonido parece ocupar exactamente el espacio que necesita, sin excesos ni adornos innecesarios. Esa economía sonora es, justamente, una de sus mayores virtudes.

    La producción es discreta y cuidadosa, y genera un entorno que invita a bajar la velocidad y a mirar hacia adentro. Dentro de esa quietud aparecen breves contratiempos; estos matices funcionan como pensamientos que irrumpen durante una divagación mental: breves, inesperados y fugaces.

    Reflejos lejanos no es una canción pensada para el ruido del día. Su verdadero lugar aparece cuando cae la noche, cuando el entorno se aquieta y la escucha se vuelve más íntima. Es una pieza ideal para ese momento en que el día se apaga.

    La letra acompaña este clima con un lenguaje simple y directo. No busca grandes declaraciones, sino que va entrelazando paisajes, acciones y pensamientos abiertos para que cada oyente proyecte sus propias vivencias: el eco de la memoria, los propios “reflejos lejanos”.

    This review was submitted by fellow NAS artist Senti-Ente

    Their Spotify Artist page can be found HERE