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The Rise of a Genre-Defying Artist Ecca Vandal, the Australian punk-rap sensation, has been making waves in the music industry with her unique sound and authentic approach to artistry. After a four-year hiatus from the public eye, she returns with her second album, "Looking For People to Unfollow," a project that showcases her evolution as an artist while staying true to her genre-blending roots. The album represents her search for genuine connection in an increasingly digital world, featuring a powerful voice equally at home on hip-hop hooks and punk howls. The Making of "Looking For People to Unfollow" The album's creation was a journey of artistic rediscovery. Vandal and her partner Richie Buxton began working on the project in their Melbourne apartment before moving to Buxton's parents' garage to avoid noise complaints and, more importantly, to disconnect from the internet. This intentional isolation allowed Vandal to explore her most raw lyrical self, channeling emotions and experiences as a woman of color against the backdrop of global events like the murder of George Floyd. The album's core theme is a "search for true connection" and "trying to fight against the faux-sincerity of the online world." Career Milestones and Industry Recognition Vandal's ascent has been marked by significant milestones. After releasing standout singles like "Cruising to Self Soothe" and "Bleed But Never Die," she received a DM from Limp Bizkit's Fred Durst inviting her to tour in early 2025. This opportunity led her to leave Australia for the first time, taking a significant risk on her career. The tour resulted in vocal support from artists including Shirley Manson, SZA, Travis Barker, and Paramore's Hayley Williams, culminating in her Coachella debut in April 2026. Her journey has also included memorable encounters with industry legends like Flea, with whom she shared tea in Los Angeles, and Tony Hawk, who gifted her a signed skateboard inspired by her music. Cultural Identity and Musical Authenticity Born in South Africa to Sri Lankan parents who fled civil war, Vandal's multicultural background deeply influences her artistry. Growing up as "the only Brown kid" in Melbourne, she found belonging through music, studying jazz at the Victorian College of the Arts. Her Sri Lankan identity is subtly woven into her work, including her wearing a saree in the "Bleed But Never Die" video. Despite her parents' initial concerns about her financial survival as a musician, Vandal has carved out a unique space in the industry, refusing to be confined to a single genre despite industry pressure to "pick a lane." The Future of Genre-Bending Music As Vandal continues to gain international recognition, her approach to music offers a refreshing counterpoint to the industry's increasing focus on short, viral content. By celebrating "long form" in an era of 15-second snippets, she's challenging listeners to engage more deeply with artistic expression. With her powerful voice, genre-defying style, and commitment to authentic storytelling, Ecca Vandal represents a new generation of artists who are redefining success on their own terms. As she navigates the complexities of fame while staying true to her artistic vision, her journey suggests that the future of music may lie in embracing diversity and authenticity over commercial categorization.

The Forbidden Love Story of 'Falling'9pm, Channel 4"May I see your cabbages?" Catholic priest David (Paapa Essiedu) asks devoted nun Anna (Keeley Hawes). "Only if you get me really drunk," she chuckles. And with that, a forbidden love story starts to unfold. This is Jack Thorne's new slow-burn drama about the relationship between two people committed to the church and their communities. In the opening episode, when Anna admits her "immortal thoughts of lust" to David, she doesn't get the response she expected – but it will force her to reconsider her whole life. Does she really want to start again outside the convent? And are her feelings for Hot Priest 2.0 definitely one-sided? Jason Watkins and Niamh Cusack also star.Murder Mystery at the Grand Canal9pm, ITV1In 2015, two friends living on a houseboat in London's Little Venice heard a thud. Then they saw a suitcase in the water that contained a body. Police launched a murder investigation, which is replayed here – with the insight of forensic pathologist Dr Richard Shepherd and detectives who worked on the case – and led to the identification of Marta Ligman. But who was the perpetrator?Interior Design Masters in Leeds8pm, BBC OneLeeds's financial district may not scream creative freedom – but it's where the contestants are let loose. They need to transform studio apartments, with one designer hanging up a very distracting "froufrou thing". Will Michelle Ogundehin and former winner Lynsey Ford be impressed?Summer BBQ with Jamie Oliver8pm, Channel 4The final bite of the chef's summer-ready series is a smoke-kissed sesame chicken burger, served with crunchy slaw and a Korean sauce. Add baba ganoush, minty courgettes and a surf'n'turf mixed grill, and we're stuffed – in the very best way.Machine Gun Kelly Goes Wild with Bear Grylls9pm, Sky One"I can't wait to go off this cliff!" Heavily inked US pop-punker Colson Baker, AKA Machine Gun Kelly (or just MGK these days), turns out to be a self-effacing sweetheart as Bear Grylls drags him around a remote Norwegian forest. Slippery abseiling, chomping on water beetles and celebrating the Grease soundtrack are all on the menu.Male Trauma Explored in 'Half Man'10.40pm, BBC OneAfter that explosively disquieting beginning, Richard Gadd's story of male trauma and violence has become bogged down in its characters' unfathomable motivations. Niall, now the adult version played by Jamie Bell, hears that his old nemesis Ruben (Gadd) is out of prison. Against all discernible reason, he becomes obsessed with a reunion.

The Rediscovery of a Forgotten VisionaryGordon Stevenson, a multifaceted artist who made significant contributions to New York's late-70s no wave scene, is about to experience a posthumous renaissance. Four decades after his death, Stevenson has been largely remembered as merely a footnote in other people's stories. However, this is about to change dramatically with the discovery of a storage unit filled with his lost work, including jewelry, collaborations with mail-art pioneer Ray Johnson, and even clues to the whereabouts of a surviving print of his notorious film, Ecstatic Stigmatic.The Early Life and InfluencesStevenson's story begins not in the gritty streets of New York, but 900 miles south in the small town of Dublin, Georgia. Born into a family of "emotionally repressed stoics," he was a maths prodigy with a taste for Flannery O'Connor, Nietzsche, and Sartre. His intellectual pursuits and unconventional lifestyle created a rift with his parents, who expected him to follow a more traditional path. Offered a maths scholarship at Georgia Tech, Stevenson instead chose the liberal arts campus of Eckerd College in St. Petersburg, Florida, further widening the divide with his family.The New York YearsIn 1977, Stevenson and his partner Mirielle Cervenka relocated to New York, a city that photographer Julia Gorton described as "a nihilistic playground for people with trauma." The city was "very destroyed by the drugs and violence," according to Maripol, a European émigré designer and filmmaker who later worked with Grace Jones and Madonna. "But there was freedom. That the city was bankrupt meant low rents. Creative people could afford to live there," Maripol recalls.The Artistic LegacyStevenson's artistic contributions were multifaceted. He and Cervenka founded the jewelry brand LHOOQ, which "repositioned the jewellery for the punk market" by upcycling vintage trinkets. His "memento mori" series focused on crosses and skulls, anticipating gothic fashion and showcasing a macabre sensibility. In music, he joined Lydia Lunch's Teenage Jesus and the Jerks, a band that was, according to Gorton, "really intense, abrasive, not friendly – just a perfect band." Jim Sclavunos, who later drummed for Sonic Youth and Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds, remembers Stevenson as "a very striking presence, depraved in the right ways." His most ambitious work was the film Ecstatic Stigmatic, a $5,000 production inspired by Catholic mysticism and the Jonestown massacre, which Sclavunos found "surprised by how good it was. A lot of no wave cinema looked juvenile. But Ecstatic Stigmatic was very shadowy, sleazy and sexual."The Impact on Contemporary CultureThe rediscovery of Stevenson's work comes at a time when there is renewed interest in the no wave movement and its influence on contemporary art and music. His story offers insight into the creative ferment of late-70s New York, a time when the city's financial struggles paradoxically created space for artistic experimentation. The letters Stevenson wrote to his parents, which his family has recovered, provide a personal window into this period, chronicling life in the downtown demimonde and his experiences as one of New York's first Aids patients. As his sister Barbara Stevenson notes, "Gordon always belonged in New York," and with this rediscovery, his rightful place in the city's artistic pantheon is finally being secured.

The Allure of Sonic ExtremesBowel-shuddering basslines. Drum fills that bounce off the walls like gunfire. Guitars resembling a pneumatic drill drilling into another pneumatic drill. A truly loud gig stays with you, figuratively and literally, as anyone who has spent the days after one accompanied by a troubling ringing in their ears can confirm.Last week, prompted by an old Alistair Cooke column suggesting that Janis Joplin's group Big Brother and the Holding Company was noisy enough to cause permanent hearing damage in guinea pigs, The Guide asked readers to share their own loudest gig experiences. The response was overwhelming, with countless readers sharing memories of eardrum-piercing encounters with all manner of bands and artists, across genres and decades.The Technical Frontiers of Live SoundWe should probably insert the obligatory disclaimer here: loud gigs can be genuinely bad for your ear health – just look at the brilliant early 80s post-punk band Mission of Burma, who had to disband for the best part of two decades due to guitarist Roger Clark Miller's punishing tinnitus. The environments that Burma and bands before them played in were a sonic wild west, with minimal soundproofing in venues or, in the ear canals of the people performing in those venues.Thankfully technology has moved on since then: many concertgoers now carry decent pairs of earplugs, and venues often provide free alternatives at the bar. Yet some still succumb to the cheap, inadvisable thrill of experiencing music completely unprotected.The Auditory Cost of Musical PassionThe physical consequences of extreme volume are well-documented. Mission of Burma's hiatus due to tinnitus represents just one example of how loud performances can have lasting health effects. The human ear can withstand approximately 85 decibels continuously for eight hours, but at 110 decibels – the level of many rock concerts – safe exposure time drops to less than two minutes.Despite these risks, the pursuit of sonic intensity continues. As one reader noted about seeing Swans in 1987: "You couldn't think of anything other than the noise while it was happening. People streamed out. I stayed and now wear hearing aids. But it was extraordinary." This trade-off between auditory safety and musical transcendence remains central to concert culture.Cultural Significance of VolumeVolume in live music has always been tied to cultural significance. From Deep Purple in the 1970s to modern experimental acts, extreme sound has been used to create immersive experiences that transcend mere entertainment. Guardian critic Alexis Petridis described seeing My Bloody Valentine: "Earplugs were distributed at the door. Even wearing them, the quite extraordinary volume was inescapable. It made your clothes move, independently of your body."Different genres approach loudness differently. Doom metal acts like Sunn O))) use volume as an atmospheric tool, while electronic artists such as Rosalía incorporate orchestral elements at jet-landing volume. Each approach creates a unique sensory experience that defines the relationship between performer and audience.The Future of Loud Music and Hearing ProtectionAs awareness of hearing health grows, the future of loud concerts may involve a balance between intensity and safety. Advances in hearing protection technology – from high-fidelity earplugs that preserve sound quality while reducing volume to in-ear monitors for performers – suggest that extreme sonic experiences need not come at the cost of long-term hearing damage.Yet the fundamental appeal of overwhelming sound likely remains. As Laura Snapes wrote about experiencing Angine de Poitrine: "I felt like I'd been lashed to the prow of Mad Max's rig as it screamed through the desert (this is a compliment)." The pursuit of transcendent musical experiences – even when they leave our ears ringing – appears to be an enduring aspect of human culture.

The Giant Pickle Parade Kicks Off the UK's First Jewish Culture MonthLondoners spotted a towering green pickle strolling past the Tate Modern, Southbank Centre and other iconic sites, delivering a simple message: the nation’s inaugural Jewish Culture Month has begun.150+ Events Across Museums, Libraries and Community HubsStarting on 16 May, the festival curated by the Board of Deputies of British Jews will feature more than 150 programmes covering food, music, comedy, architecture, fashion, film and literature.V&A MuseumNational Portrait GalleryJW3 (London’s Jewish community centre)British LibraryNational Holocaust MuseumScale of the Festival: Over 150 Programs and Nationwide ReachThe sheer volume of events underscores a coordinated effort to make Jewish culture visible across the UK, from London to Nottinghamshire. Highlights include a traditional Friday night dinner hosted by east‑London pickling firm Shedletsky, a punk‑themed exhibition at JW3, and walking tours by the Association of Jewish Refugees exploring historic Jewish sites outside the capital.Why the Celebration Matters Amid Rising AntisemitismLiat Rosenthal, director of culture, education and communities at the Board, explained that the month emerged from conversations with artists who felt Jewish life had become defined by hostility since the 7 October 2023 attacks in Israel. The initiative aims to replace “oy” with “joy”, inviting people of all backgrounds to learn, eat and engage.By foregrounding contributions in science, technology, psychotherapy, medicine and politics, organisers hope to shift public perception from victimhood to pride.Looking Ahead: Building Long‑Term Visibility for British JewryBeyond the month, the Board plans to leverage the momentum for sustained cultural programming and education. Success will be measured by increased attendance at Jewish‑focused events, broader media coverage and, ultimately, a measurable decline in antisemitic incidents reported during the festival period.

The LeadPunk, intellectual, feminist, theorist, brave as hell, vulnerable, funny—Valie Export was a hero to many women. Since the 1960s, she was driven by a fierce conviction that art and media would play an essential role in women's liberation: that women must picture their own reality in the name of social progress. In Women's Art: A Manifesto (1972), she wrote that women must "use art as a means of expression, so as to influence the consciousness of all of us". What she demanded was revolution.The Revolutionary Art of Valie ExportI keep returning to her work. Can't stay away. Her work was heavy with explicit threat and pain, and she made evident the violence of forcing women's bodies to inhabit structures that were not designed for them. For the 1973 performance Hyperbulia she crept naked through a corridor of electrified wires, exposing herself voluntarily to shocks. Her 1976 photocollage The Birth Madonna shows a woman positioned like a Renaissance Madonna seated on a drying machine from which spews a bloody towel—it still provokes shock.Challenging Societal ConstraintsExport spoke with tremendous clarity about her work and the ideas underpinning it. Her father died during the war, and she was sent to a convent with her two sisters while their mother worked as a primary school teacher. The first of her many expulsions came aged 10 when she was discovered exploring the nun's living quarters. Her experience of girlhood was of constraint—of having little or no control over her own life.In 1967, aged 27, she swapped her married name Waltraud Höllinger for the moniker VALIE EXPORT. A play on a cigarette brand, written in capital letters, it was a decisive rejection of patriarchal structures. She would be known neither by her father's name, nor by her ex-husband's.The Power of PerformanceHer work was intended to explode the structures containing her—in cinema, in art and in the wider society. In Action Pants: Genital Panic (1969) she walked along the rows of a Munich art cinema with her exposed pubic region level with punters' faces, and plastered the walls of Vienna with posters of herself in crotchless trousers holding a gun.For Tap and Touch Cinema in 1968, she constructed a theatre in a box strapped to her chest, with people on the street invited to reach into the darkness and touch her breasts while she watched them. Documentary of the performance exposes the shifting power dynamic between Export and the men who accept the invitation. It was brilliantly subversive and unsettling.More recently, her 1968 performance From the Portfolio of Doggedness has drawn attention—during which she led Peter Weibel crawling through the streets of Vienna by a dog lead. Weibel was dressed in a business suit, a disturbing echo of the commuters milling around him.A Lasting Feminist LegacyHer 1972 manifesto described how the spark kindled by women's art might ignite far-reaching social change. It concludes by stating the importance of documenting and honouring the life and work of those who had come before, as we must now do hers. "The future of women will be the history of woman."I grieve her in the most selfish way: there were so many things I wanted to ask her about. Having survived decades in which women's art was marginalised and ignored, she had so much to tell us. Like a fool, I kept delaying a planned interview. Now it's too late.

Rian Brazil's Sonic Journey Rian Brazil, a Brighton-born producer, has had his track played by Björk while DJing at the Venice Biennale. His music masterfully blends earworms from the UK underground with deeply vulnerable vocals. The Engine Heartbreak EP Brazil's forthcoming Engine Heartbreak EP features a range of sounds, from drum’n’bass love-songs to gospel-inflected tracks and glitchy electronica. His real name, Brazil, weaves a sonic world that's both addictively online and yearning for real-life connection. This Week's Best New Tracks Jorja Smith – What’s Done Is Done: A song-of-the-summer contender with a heavily bassy beat and UKG influences. Helado Tropical – Tocando: A sweet guitar and lo-fi fuzz track about a slipping relationship. Show Me the Body​ – No God: A brutally funky, danceable hardcore punk track rejecting religion. The Avalanches – Together (ft Nikki Nair, Jessy Lanza and Prentiss): An electro-pop candyland track with a camera shutter beat. Overmono – Lockup: A masterful inversion of bass-driven tech-house with chaotic detail. Alys(alys)alys – Effervescence: A perilous, bassy track with splintered vocals and overwhelming drums. Ivy Knight – Beacon: A beautifully produced track with crisp acoustic guitar and amorphous bass. Playlist and Subscription Subscribe to the Guardian's rolling Add to Playlist selections on Spotify or transfer it to Apple, Tidal or other services.

The Lead: Beth Orton's Artistic Philosophy in the Age of AI Beth Orton, the acclaimed British singer-songwriter, has shared her thoughts on the intersection of technology and creativity in a recent interview. While discussing her illustrious career spanning decades, Orton made a striking statement about artificial intelligence's impact on music, expressing skepticism that AI "isn't going to have any beneficial influence on humans." This perspective comes from an artist who has navigated the evolving music industry while maintaining her unique voice and creative integrity. The Creative Journey: From Fear to Finding Her Voice Orton discovered her singing ability in 1989 while experimenting with theater, initially driven by a desire to confront her fear of performing publicly. "My biggest fear was singing in public and I wanted to do something I was afraid of," she recalled. This led her to transform a Rimbaud poem into what she imagined was a blues song, marking the beginning of her musical journey. Her talent was quickly recognized by producer William Orbit, who connected her with a singing teacher and helped launch her career, though Orton still struggles with identifying herself primarily as a musician. The Creative Process: Inspiration meets Craft When asked about her songwriting approach, Orton described a process where inspiration often strikes during everyday moments. "I get inspired and that's why I write. I could be walking in nature or having a conversation and it'll spark something in my head and I'll make notes," she explained. The elements of melody, words, and chords frequently emerge together, followed by the challenging work of refining these initial ideas. "The easy part is the la la la, here's the idea, here's the shape, here's the form, and then it's like: this all came unconsciously, how do I write to that standard consciously?" she noted, highlighting the difficulty of translating inspiration into finished songs. Musical Influences: Bowie's Wake-Up Call One of Orton's earliest musical memories involves hearing David Bowie's "Oh! You Pretty Things" as a child. "Anything he played was fucking loud. Mostly it was raging punk rock, but this one morning that track woke me up – he must have been up all night – and I heard something that made me feel excited for life. I was like: 'Wow, what the hell is that? I wanna find that.'" This experience exemplifies the profound impact that authentic human creativity can have, a theme that resonates with her later skepticism about AI-generated art. Industry Reflections: Authenticity in Commercial Pressures Orton reflected on her career in the music industry, particularly her experience with the album "Central Reservation" in 1999. She expressed discomfort with the pressure to conform to commercial expectations, noting that "it was like: 'Oh, she likes to be remixed. Let's get her remixed up the wazoo and that'll make this work and make it successful.'" This experience highlights the tension between artistic authenticity and commercial pressures that many musicians face, a challenge that AI might further complicate by potentially devaluing human creativity even more. The Economic Reality: Making Music Outside the Mainstream When asked about the financial challenges of being a musician outside the mainstream, Orton acknowledged the difficulties. "It is not easy. I think the lucky break is if you can make music for TV or films. That didn't happen for me and I have had to support a family," she shared. Despite these challenges, she found motivation in her dedication to her craft: "at a certain point it was like, well, there's no going back because I'm not good at anything. I'm useless at everything, but I can make music so I'll just keep doing that and hope for the best." The AI Question: Human Creativity vs. Machine Generation Orton's most controversial statement came when addressing the impact of AI on music: "Yes. It's pretty depressing. I still live in the hope that the real deal is the real deal and that only humans can make art the way humans can. And I think that's really important, spiritually and emotionally and energetically. I sound really hippy, I don't care. If you make music you feel maybe it can have an energetic influence in a powerful, positive way and I just can't see that AI is going to have any beneficial influence on humans." The Future Outlook: Preserving Human Artistry As AI continues to advance in creative fields, Orton's perspective represents a significant viewpoint from an established artist. Her stance emphasizes the irreplaceable human element in creative expression—something that cannot be replicated by algorithms, no matter how sophisticated. This viewpoint raises important questions about the value we place on human creativity in an increasingly automated world and challenges the notion that technology can fully replace the authentic, emotionally resonant qualities of human-made art.

Lead: AI Filmmaking Breaks Free from Traditional GatekeepersZack London describes his work as “the inception of a new thing where there are no rules,” and the results are already reshaping how cinema can be produced. From a former hemstitching workshop in Stockholm, a tiny team is delivering AI‑generated sci‑fi shorts that have captured a global audience of half a billion views. Gossip Goblin’s Kitchen‑Table Production ModelThe outfit, operating under the nom de plume Gossip Goblin, uses off‑the‑shelf AI tools to write, animate and voice‑over content from a modest apartment. A typical shoot involves an actor, director and composer cramped into a studio booth to record a monologue for a Scottish‑gorilla protagonist in a transhumanist cyberpunk world. The workflow is deliberately low‑cost, with eight collaborators spread across Europe contributing remotely. Viewership Numbers Signal Rapid Audience Adoption500 million cumulative views across Instagram and YouTube (self‑reported by London).Individual shorts routinely reach several million views within days of release.High‑profile endorsements from Mathieu Kassovitz and Joe Rogan have amplified reach. Industry Reaction: Hollywood’s Growing Appetite and Critics’ BacklashMajor LA talent agents, studios and streaming platforms are dispatching representatives to Stockholm, eager to explore collaborations. At the same time, a vocal chorus of filmmakers, actors (including Elton John, Scarlett Johansson) and creators such as Vince Gilligan condemn AI‑generated content as “copyright theft” and “creative sludge.” The debate intensifies as award bodies like the Oscars and Cannes have recently barred AI works from competition. Future Outlook: Legal Grey Zones and the Next Wave of AI‑Generated CinemaLondon argues that the “grey goo” of model training makes authorship attribution murky, suggesting the industry must develop new standards for demonstrating sufficient creative input. As more Hollywood talent experiments with AI characters—e.g., AI‑generated versions of Val Kilmer—the sector is likely to confront regulatory scrutiny while continuing to push the boundaries of low‑budget, high‑impact storytelling.