Pilot Radar: 2024’s Best Tracks (So Far) by Artists With Less Than 10K IG Followers

“They literally came out of nowhere,” is a refrain we’ve heard over and over, especially recently. But does anyone really come out of nowhere? By necessity, someone has to start listening first and send the music to their friends, or put it on in the car with their family. All these years and TikTok accounts later, I think the best way to discover music is still word of mouth. Especially as ticket prices climb and label marketing departments zero their resources in on just a few artists or songs, it’s more important to listen beyond the charts than ever.

Thousands and thousands of artists release music every year, and there are at least 200 that you (yes, you) would like. Experiencing the intimacy of small shows and watching the growth and development of someone from their first single is my recommended way to experience music. Develop your taste from finding smaller artists and following music blogs and listening to All Songs Considered on NPR. After all, in 2023, Chappell Roan played Subterranean, a 400-person venue in Chicago. In 2024, her Lollapalooza aftershow sold out in seconds. You never know who’s going to blow up. And if they don’t? Honestly, a concert at an 800-cap venue is the best thing ever. (Not that I don’t wish for everyone on this list to get as big as they want to.) (Shoutout Bottom Lounge!)

Don’t have time to scour for debut singles and self-released albums? I do! Presenting: Pilot Magazine’s Radar.

“Apollo” by Slow Fiction [So Young Records] Brooklyn, NY | @slowfictionband

I’m not sure how much of Roman history everyone else remembers, but just in case, I’ll remind you that Apollo is the god of music and dance, which makes a lot of sense given the expertise with which Slow Fiction has constructed their 2024 instant-hit, “Apollo.” But beyond music, he’s also the god of truth, and Slow Fiction writes with an abundance of it.“I love you but I don’t know you/I just try to see you as I believe in you,” sings Julia Vassallo with just a guitar for company at the start of the song. By the time the shimmery first verse kicks in, so has the rest of the band. Complete with a head-banging chorus, “Apollo,” Slow Fiction’s lead single from their EP Crush, is an easy contender for song of the summer. Julia Vassallo’s voice is lilting and powerful, holding its own against Slow Fiction’s decadent layers of instruments. “Apollo” holds a lot of remnants of what was so amazing about indie rock c. 2012: strong vocalists, smart production, and a stellar cast of musicians making up the band, but none of this is to say the music sounds dated. Slow Fiction talks about relationships with a modern sensibility and the way the song is produced sounds nothing but current. With two EPs under their belt, it’s the season for a Slow Fiction album. I’m ready to stake my claim in the virtual queue when their tour inevitably kicks off.

“Bad Decisions” by Eddy Lee Ryder [Head Bitch Music, S/R] Woodstock, NY | @eddyleeryder

Eddy Lee Ryder self-describes her music as “demented pop,” though her final product is anything but misshapen. Her song “Bad Decisions” was the first and last written song on her latest EP, so while she may have started it long before the other tracks, she put the finishing touches on it at the very end, and the glimmering final product shows. Ryder is perfectly self-aware in every aspect of this song, from the album cover to the lyrics. “Don’t ask me how I know those guys,” she practically winks, “you wouldn’t like to know.” Ryder is one of the most charming writers in the Americana-pop scene, with silky smooth delivery, even for lines like “Don’t tell me you love me if you’re here for a good time.” The Americana-esque sound of it all leans way more toward Jenny Lewis and CMAT than Miranda Lambert, and her lyrics hold a splendid truth in the humor of every song. With an already-cult following to her earlier work, Ryder’s music feels fresh and witty, with exactly the right touch of vulnerability, just in time for her debut LP to come out later this year. The beauty of Eddy Lee Ryder lies in the supposed dementedness of it, like a banged up piece of fruit. Despite any bruising on the surface, the center is still sweet.

“Black Ribbon” by The Ophelias [S/R] Cincinnati, OH | @theophelias

I found The Ophelias through a t-shirt, specifically a t-shirt worn by the bassist of Sir Chloe during their most recent Chicago show. It read “I went to The Ophelias show and all I got was this sense of overwhelming dread.” I love and bookmarked that shirt to buy whenever I unban myself from buying band tees, but it’s not how I feel when I listen to their music. Personally, I feel nothing but warmth. The Ophelias were born out of being the “token” in various Ohio bands, before realizing that they’re infinitely more powerful as a unit. Made up entirely of queer and trans musicians, the members of the band are liberated from being a token at all and can focus on honing their glowing, empathetic sound. “Black Ribbon,” the opening track of their EP Ribbon, is a striking song, seemingly about finding love amidst personal turmoil. My beloved Dolly Alderton once wrote “loving someone is not an act of control, it's an act of surrender,” which perfectly sums up with the spinning feeling of falling in love, even while your life is falling apart. The song also features possibly the most devastatingly intimate lyric of the year: “Do you want me to tie your hair back?” The simple familiarity of The Ophelia’s writing is the most striking part of it, and the band’s harmonies on vocals and guitar show up perfectly in the last minute of the song, covering the listener in a lush soundscape.

“Casino” by Borough Council [Speedy Wunderground] Hastings, UK | @boroughcouncil_

Borough Council’s single “Casino” started 2024 off right with one of the most understated yet effective builds of the year. The song has about two repeated lyrics, the second of which I honestly haven’t been able to hear or find. The first however, “Everything you love is casino,” (Borough Council, please confirm!) is gloriously meshed into the music, everything swirling together at the same volume. “Casino” feels anthemic without any of the contrivances that bands like Bleachers have popularized that signal: this song is cinematic! The song naturally fills space and time, actually feeling longer than its three-minute runtime. There is a trend in music that’s popped up in the last two years where songs are so sparse there’s almost nothing to hang onto. There’s another article to be written about “three note pop songs,” and their chokehold on the industry. “Casino” feels like the antithesis of this trend. Yes, it’s understated, but it’s not underdeveloped. It’s not a loud song, but its production is so strong that you can hear every part of it, even when it’s on in the background. When a song is this good, it doesn’t have to scream.

“Count to 5” by Sailor Honeymoon [Good Good 굿굿 Records] Seoul, SK | @sailorhoneymoon.kr

“Korean Girls invented Punk Rock” is a refrain heralded by Sailor Honeymoon, and their debut EP is certainly going to shape the sound of post-punk for years to come. Sailor Honeymoon is a project by Abi Raymaker and Shin Zaeeun, plus bassist TOMYO, that premiered last summer with their single “Cockroach,” which also appears on their eponymous EP. “Count To 5,” the final track, is possibly the EP’s boldest offering, a true exercise in tension and release. Sailor Honeymoon’s voices are slinky and self-assured, delivering lyrics like “The guy I used to dig/He turned into a pig.” Mixing themes of insomnia and dreams, the band infuses a little paranoia with their exasperation, especially as we get closer to the end. The song has a sense that time is running out, quite literally with the final chorus “Fuck these guys/I won’t stay the night/I don’t have any more time.” They spend most of the song counting backwards from seven to three, until they finally, as the title has been instructing, count to five. There has never been a cooler sense of finality. Sailor Honeymoon are real miracles of the genre right now, feeling simultaneously classic and fresh on every song they do, everything post-punk has been and will be.

“Crow” by Prima Queen Chicago, IL/London, UK | @prima__queen

Prima Queen is a platonic love-affair that spans continents, and the love is certainly present in their music. Louise Macphail (Bristol) and Kristin McFadden (Chicago) met in a music course in London and the band formed nearly the moment Louise saw Kristin perform in front of the class. I’m hard pressed to find a band with more curiosity and patience than Prima Queen. They’re so adept at observing the world around them, from sibling relationships to exes, with both raw honesty and complete empathy. Falling somewhere between First Aid Kit and Carly Simon, Prima Queen infuses snappy wisdom into every line of their music. “Crow” specifically meditates on the relationship between their friend, their friend’s father, grief, and the complicated relationship between all three. “Just because he’s a sociopath,” Macphail and McFadden sing, “Doesn’t mean you are.” Their clear voices are near-perfect pairings for each other, but the soft sound doesn’t take any of the sting out of the words. It’s tough love set to a gorgeous soundtrack. Everything Prima Queen says rings true.

“death of a fly” by symmetrical dogs [S/R] – Perth, AUS | @symmetricaldogs_band

“Hot, cold, at some point it’s just pain,” sings Claire Stanwix after the rhythm of “death of a fly” changes for only the first time. Stanwix, Michael Wooldridge, and Boyd Jarvis make up symmetrical dogs, a trio out of Fremantle carving out a unique space in the indie rock scene. symmetrical dogs’ first streaming release (they have an album out on SoundCloud from 2023) is a perfect introduction to themselves: music that shimmers with personality and defiance, a quiet and honest roar. There’s not a hint of sardonicism in its literary lyrics (the words “pantheism” and “autopoiesis” are used perfectly) or playful guitar parts. Even the shriek Claire lets out in the middle of the song feels genuine, not a moment feels misplaced. A lot of this sincerity and intelligence works because of the other lyrics they’re paired with. The lines “And I’m so fed up with boys and men and bugs” and “I’d hit him for you and I, I almost did once” feature in the song. Whether this is (as I interpret it) a show of exasperation with a friend’s partner or not, the sweet desperation of them rings true. “death of a fly” is filled with such natural chemistry between the band that it almost sounds like it could’ve come out of a jam session. Listening to “death of a fly” is something like staring at a Jackson Pollock painting, knowing it takes craft to make something that complicated sound so effortless.

“Don’t” by Honeyglaze [Speedy Wunderground] South London, UK | @honeyglaze_

“Don’t ignore me when I’m asking you a question,” Anouska Sokolow, lead singer of Honeyglaze, begins in “Don’t.” Honeyglaze is a band in the tradition of Dry Cleaning and English Teacher: dry and funny with English accents on display and a genuine edge. “Don’t” itself is a perfect anthem to take up space. “Don’t raise your voice and interrupt me when I’m speaking,” Sokolow insists sharply while bassist Tim Curtis never lets up on the songs bassline, “I’m a person too you know, I’ve got things to say, I’ve got fucking feelings.” I’m hesitant to describe singers as “biting” when talking about their delivery, but Sokolow sounds like she’s tearing the line off with her teeth when she says it for the final time. The guitar ramps up until it falls apart in the last minute of the song, becoming gloriously dissonant. Until the climax of the song, it’s the small moments that make a difference. Sokolow’s inflections, Sokolow and Curtis’ quick succession of finger picking while Yuri Shibuichi plays against them on the drums. “Don’t” isn’t a long song, clocking in under three minutes, but just like the boxing gloves on their forthcoming album cover, it hits perfectly every time.

“Fun House” by HOMADE [S/R] NYC, NY | @homade.nyc

HOMADE is brutally self-aware, but I’d never describe them as self-deprecating. They’re too confident for that. Even their opening line, “I got a knack for saying the wrong thing,” sounds more like they’re bragging than warning. The hook of their new single, “Fun House,” is delivered almost like a threat: “I got a way with, I got away with, I got a way with words.” HOMADE, a three piece out of New York (who I believe are still looking for a new drummer!), are perhaps my favorite band in the modern grunge genre. It’s a massively overused word, especially in rock music, but there is something so undeniably cool about them. “Fun House” plays with power and identity within a relationship. “Just like a fun house, you show me myself/I swear I’m all distorted but you say that’s how I sound” the band sings almost cheerfully. The song is divided into two parts, and the second part of the song has a similar feel to the post-chorus of one of my favorite Hole songs, “Mrs. Jones.” It has the same inevitable and cruel feeling as the band devolves into more dragged out singing over a much darker guitar part. “I chew on glass, I cut my mouth/I chew on glass, I spit it out” the band choruses. But while “Mrs. Jones” separates into unsettling whispers, “Fun House” fades to static. These quieter, almost funny endings are a signature of the band, on display in previous singles like “Broken Hearts” and “Blue Fish.” HOMADE’s brash confidence is present even then, wanting an ending on their terms. They’re queens of the ashes after they’ve burned down the world, commanding everything from the stage to their song.

“I Just Needed You To Know” by Girl Scout [235 Music] Sweden | @girlscouttheband

In order to break a rule, you have to follow it first, and no one understands that better than the members of Girl Scout. The members of Girl Scout are Swedish natives who met at the Royal College of Music in Stockholm studying jazz. Two of them formed a duo, which became a four-piece when they started playing original music. Now, the band has moved from jazz standards to self-described “bubblegrunge.” Girl Scout’s new single sounds exactly like the title suggests, like something they’d been holding in until it came spilling out. The pre-chorus to chorus build is so infectious, the release so satisfying, probably because they spent so much time studying music. None of this is to suggest just picking up an instrument isn’t enough, hell The Slits are one of my favorite bands of all time and they famously couldn’t tune their instruments when they did BBC Live in 1979. But there is a little extra attentiveness to the musical parts of the song that doesn’t go unnoticed. From traditional band instruments to something that sounds like a door creaking in the background, Girl Scout builds their music like a layer cake: with the combination of flavors at the forefront. Not an instant is wasted in a Girl Scout track. The band crams each measure with euphoria.

“It’s The Squeeze” by Dog Race [Fascination Street] London, UK | @dograceband

The theatrics of “It’s The Squeeze” are less musical theater and more The Roadhouse from Twin Peaks. This dance-party-from-hell is brought to you by Dog Race, a five-piece band out of London who combine borderline operatic vocals with dark synths, heavy guitar, and an expertly sparse piano. “It’s A Squeeze” sings the gospel of modern anxiety and personal suffocation, giving the feel of surveillance-state paranoia without ever being too obvious. “He won’t leave me alone, I owe my life to him,” Katie Healy sings, before pondering “I know that it’s my fault, but then it’s not, but then it is, but then it’s not, but then it is again,” in a refrain that’s so terrifying it’s brilliant. There’s a pause before the final chorus, the perfect amount of time for the listeners to catch their breath. Dog Race, a nice play on the phrase “rat race” that works perfectly for the song’s thesis, are experts at balancing raucous noise and clean production. “It’s not the love,” Healy repeats during the song’s climax in varying tones of singing and screaming until it nearly blends with the background music. If Dog Race is welcoming us to the end of the world, at least it sounds good.

“Lil’s Room” by Girl Group [S/R] Liverpool, UK | @thisisgirlgroup

Girl Group might not be the easiest name to find on search, but for the born-of-spite feminist project it is, the name is perfect. “Lil’s Room” itself is a gorgeous love letter of friendship and loneliness, and the rooms of people we love that become an extension of our own. Forgoing the outside world, the group is more than happy to stay “wrapped up in a cozy cliché” listening to Kate Bush and watching flowers mold in the drafty air. “Lil’s Room” is probably one of the year’s most evocative songs both lyrically and sonically. It’s soft and wistful, but not too sweet. There’s a hint of melancholy in the way the lyrics are sung, just enough to make you a little emotional without slamming it in your face. You could probably imagine a near-perfect replica of Lil’s room based on the little details in the lyrics and construction of the song. It’s worth mentioning that Lil isn’t a made up figure for the song, she’s one of the five band members along with Katya, Maria, Thea, and Mia. I think knowing that is important because it allows the song to create a time capsule of itself. “Lil’s Room” captures so much in a short amount of time: the intimacy of friendship, escaping self-isolation, and having a safe landing place for it all. I hope Girl Group blows up as much as they want it to and they never have to “guest only” a studio again, as was the impetus to start Girl Group in the first place. When they do, they’ll always have this song to look back on and remember when they piled five to a room, every second precious, just like on the recording.

“Magdalene” by Brie Stoner [Label 51] Grand Rapids, MI | @briestoner

Brie Stoner is a Grand Rapids by way of Madrid singer-songwriter, who is creating some of the most intelligently written music coming out of that genre today. Stoner’s powerful voice falls somewhere between the smokiness of a jazz lounge singer and the intimacy of listening to someone sing to themselves. Though her song “Magdalene” is about leaving a damaging religious upbringing, the song itself does inspire a kind of devotion. Not to religion or whatever higher power you may believe in, but the mature and honest songwriting and delivery Stoner creates all her songs with. “Magdalene” is a song about liberation, from patriarchy and religion and the TikTok industrial complex of music that demands it to be 2 minutes with an identifiable hook people can make a trend to. Brie Stoner writes with craft and luxuriates in her storytelling, running toward freedom with her classic and clear voice. Stoner’s music is a flashlight in a power outage, encouraging listeners to make a mess of themselves in order to find exactly who that is. “Never be sorry for the necessary disruption…or the personal and institutional breakups that lead to your freedom,” Stoner writes of “Magdalene.” The message rings throughout the song. When Stoner is at her most sultry, she sings that she’s not sorry.

“My Room” by Divorce [Gravity Records, EMI] Nottingham, UK | @divorcehq

I’ve shared Divorce’s latest single, “My Room,” with people of all sorts of music tastes, and there seems to be a universal appeal to it. A folk-tinged rock tribute to sibling love, “My Room” employs everything from guitar solos to a choir of children in its impressively economical four minute runtime. And though I just tried, it’s actually difficult to tie this song to a genre; I think it actually has a little something for everyone. Tiger Cohen-Towell and Felix Mackenzie-Barrow, both pulling double-duty on vocals and bass and guitar, respectively, harmonize perfectly on the song’s splashy chorus, while Adam Peter-Smith and Kasper Sandstrom round out Divorce’s sound on guitar and drums, making it feel like they’re playing to a room at all times. The band clearly writes together, and I’m hard pressed to find a band that feels as on the same page as Divorce does. (The irony of that does not escape me.) Their music sounds like you put a mic inside of one of those amazing jam sessions that musicians tell tales of in interviews years later, so cohesive it almost feels irresistible. Though their self description is a clever joke: choose Divorce and regain control of your life and finances, the band may empower you to do just that. Divorce feels bigger than itself, equal parts vulnerable and empathetic, all parts brilliant.

“OH GOD” by Lily Hain [S/R] Brooklyn, NY | @lilhain

Alt-pop princess, Lily Hain, has been slowly but surely making a name for herself everywhere from BBC 1 to Baby’s All Right in NYC. All of Hain’s lyrics in her album’s opening track, “OH GOD,” paint a vivid image of scuffed up shoes and aimlessly wandering around the city. The song’s production sounds like the lovechild of Sylvan Esso and Maggie Rogers, with a little extra shimmer of Hain’s own. Pop music has a long history of “dancing with tears in my eyes” types of songs, a renaissance which began with Robyn’s 2010 “Dancing On My Own,” and Lily Hain fits perfectly in the lineage. Turning regret and desperation into a dance party in a way that doesn’t feel contrived or dispassionate is no easy feat, and the line is perfectly towed on “OH GOD.” More than that, Hain explores something I think pop music overlooks, which is just how boring being depressed is. “I can hear my neighbors full fledged conversations/Please make these walls more thin,” she pleads. Whether that’s so she can have human interaction or just a distraction from her own head, making that boredom sparkle is no small feat. Whipsmart and sparkling herself, Lily Hain is coming for a spot on our festival lineups, and I can’t wait to be there when she does.

“Screwdriver” by Punchlove [Kanine Records] Brooklyn, NY | @punchlovemusic

I think in such a popular genre, it can be hard to create a rock band that stands out from the others, but Punchlove has succeeded with flying colors. The five-piece project out of Brooklyn, writing and producing some of the genre’s best music coming out today, from the poetic lyrics to the playful production glitches in the middle of “Screwdriver,” Punchlove sounds like a band confidently on their third record as opposed to their first. “I saw your face in half-baked holy hues, but it still looked like you.” The group layers vocals of singing and nearly-screaming, creating the raucous genius of a great rock concert right in your headphones. “Screwdriver” is a song that plays with your memory as much as it sings about it. “It’s a minefield. Memory’s a minefield,” the chorus repeats, until around the two and a half minute mark where the song leans into its sharpest edges and becomes something completely different. Punchlove’s bio on just about everything says that they’re doing basement sound and video experiments in NYC, and the experiments are paying off tenfold. It’s the experiments that make something new, that make songs like “Screwdriver” what they are.

“Teeth” by mary in the junkyard [AMF Collective]
London, UK | @maryinthejunkyrd

“Teeth” sounds like a siren song. It’s deceivingly dainty, though Clara Freeman-Taylor’s voice sweetly sings “You sink your teeth in to get straight to my heart,” and suddenly the song has a completely different feel. Exploring toxic power dynamics, “Teeth” is a horror-tinged take on possessive relationships. The song feels like something that would’ve come out of the Killing Eve musical universe, equal parts slinky and creepy, with a perfectly desperate edge that builds into feeling like Freeman-Taylor is singing the song from all fours. Saya Barbaglia holds it down on the bass and viola, giving a delicious fatalistic bend to the end of the song, while drummer David Addison keeps a steady edge up until then. The entire five-minute runtime is captivating, sinking its teeth in over and over again. mary in the junkyard self describes as “angry weepy chaos rock,” which I view as nothing but a compliment. There is nothing manufactured about their music; it’s all pure and raw, internal organs on display and bleeding itself for the listener and for themselves. If being confessional feels like a purge, you may expect the trio’s music to empty you out. Instead, listening to their music leaves you bursting at the seams.

“Wub (What Did I Do Wrong, Baby?)” by Carnivore Mommy [S/R] Chicago, IL | @carnivore.mommy

Carnivore Mommy is a Chicago outfit, and the band’s debut EP, Pigmeat packs a hell of a punch in under 15 minutes. The EP’s standout song, “Wub (What Did I Do Wrong, Baby?),” is a sharp-tongued and appropriately spiteful breakup track to sink your teeth into. “Wub…” runs like a play on the grieving process. In the beginning, Carnivore Mommy’s singer Lauren Memery begs “What did I do wrong baby? What did I do wrong?” Though by the middle of the song, a shift has occurred. Nick Svoboda, Sage Bryant, and Gabe Neimark (on guitar, bass, and drums, respectively) pull back to start an expertly crafted build. One of the things that makes “Wub…” stand out is that it’s in no rush. They don’t start their first verse or the main guitar riff until nearly a minute and a half in and Memery doesn’t rush a syllable of her delivery. As Memery growls that the song’s antagonist is “too fucking short to fuck me,” the rest of the band knows exactly when to ramp up and let it go. While Carnivore Mommy plays with theater — performance, harmony, alliteration, even some fake crying, it’s in a way that only enhances their punk-rock spirit, never making it so playful it loses its tenacity. Dig in.