Here’s a guess: most of my favorite music is stuff you like too. Iconic artists get their stature because they create art that pleases a lot of people, that resonates in some way with a large audience. Hell, even cult artists have rabid fan bases. But there is not a 1:1 correlation between popularity and quality, and there are plenty of talented musicians who never get the audience they deserve. I feel one of the goals of music journalism is to elevate underappreciated artists, to keep them from getting lost in the morass of streaming options available to the average listener. 

     To that end, I present five of my favorite artists that deserve more attention. I’ve tried to avoid focusing on obscure artists from yesteryear (with one exception), and four of the five have released an album in the last two years or have one scheduled in 2025. They run the gamut from indie singer/songwriter to new wave to edgy postpunk, and all are worth your attention:

The Comsat Angels: Let’s start with the oldest artist of the bunch. Despite being critic’s darlings, Comsat Angels were already pretty obscure twenty years ago when I first heard of them— I had to buy a bootleg box set just to be able to hear the band¹, as all their albums were out of print. Things aren’t much better now: none of their albums are on streaming services, save a lousy compilation of demos that doesn’t give you an accurate picture of the band’s chops. You can listen to their entire discography on YouTube, thank goodness, especially their incredible first two albums. Waiting For A Miracle (1980) is one of my favorite debut albums ever, a moody offering that sounds a little like early Psychedelic Furs (think “Sister Europe”) or a less funky, less political Gang of Four².  Waiting does not have a bum track on it, and is just as sonically interesting as Unknown Pleasures or Entertaintment!, if not as musically groundbreaking. Among many highlights is the nominal single “Independence Day,” which includes a chorus so catchy my children could sing along:

But I can’t stand up, and I can’t sit down

‘Cause a great big problem stopped me in my tracks

I can’t relax ‘cause I haven’t done a thing

And I can’t do a thing ‘cause I can’t relax

The Angels second album, Sleep No More (1981), gets gloomier the longer you listen to it, approaching Pornography-era Cure levels of mopery. Lead vocalist Stephen Fellows has an arresting voice that doesn’t sound like any of his contemporaries, and the band is incredibly tight, leaning a bit more towards soundscapes than the edgy new wave of the debut. These are genuinely great albums, and it’s a shame they aren’t better known. Later albums were less consistent or ambitious³, but good songs are sprinkled throughout their catalog. I don’t know why so little of the Angels discography is unavailable on streaming or album reissue, but I hope this is rectified; this is a band that’s too good to be a musical footnote.  

FACS: FACS is a relative newcomer to the scene, their first album coming out only seven years ago. Named after the numbering system for Factory Records releases, the band doesn’t sound much like Factory’s most famous clients, Joy Division. Instead FACS come across like an unholy alliance between Slint and a proggier Sonic Youth, with a little Wire and Radiohead thrown in for good measure. I first became aware of the band when I caught their enthralling live set at Riot Fest in 2021, and became an instant convert. FACS are experts at creating space in their music, both between the individual instruments and (sometimes) between the band and the listener. Many of their songs have an icy, detached vibe that appeals to me. They are also remarkably consistent, despite various members joining and leaving the band since its inception. Every one of their six albums are a variation of their signature sound, so if you enjoy the band’s over-arching aesthetic, their entire discography is worth checking out. FACS’ latest, Wish Defense, which was released this month, may be my favorite of the bunch, and was the last project Steve Albini worked on before his untimely death.

Hayden: Canadian singer/songwriter Hayden Dresser started as an indie folkie who showed up briefly with a music video that got some rotation on MTV in 1996, then receded from mass attention.  I bought his debut, Everything I Long For, based on that video single (“Bad As They Seem”) and a stunning performance of my still-favorite Hayden song, “Skates”⁴. I kind of lost track of his music after that (see above), but rediscovered him a few years ago when doing a deep dive on some of my favorite artists from the Nineties. Turns out Hayden had released eight(!) albums in the interim, each filled with smart, thoughtful, folk-tinged rock. Hayden reminds me a little of another Canadian-Neil Young-but with more of a pop sensibility and no guitar theatrics⁵. His most recent album, Are We Good (2024), is another success, its eleven tracks rarely raising their voice (you could play most of them in a coffeehouse on a Saturday morning), but still showing off how catchy and deftly arranged they are. The album’s closer, “Can’t Happen Now,” is a pretty plea to not end a relationship, and was co-written by another kindred spirit, The National’s Matt Berninger. In today’s Americana-soaked music scene, I think Hayden is ripe for a resurgence.

Mclusky: I think everyone needs a snotty, post-hardcore band in their life, and Mclusky is mine. I first discovered them at the tail end of 2003, when my brother-in-law threw a couple of tracks off Mclusky Do Dallas (2002) on a mix cd he made for me. I was immediately taken with their raw energy, their in-your-face lyrics, and their caustic wit⁶. Frontman Andrew Falkous has one of the great voices in rock, able to slide effortlessly from sneer to bark to scream, spitting out sarcastic asides and vicious putdowns while the band careens around him. It’s hard to believe Mclusky is a trio— this band is loud—and they’ve mastered mitigating the noise by being so damn catchy. Third album The Difference Between You and Me Is I’m Not on Fire (2004) contains my favorite Mclusky song, “Support Systems,” the album’s closer. Over nearly eight minutes, Mclusky gradually builds from a quietly repeated guitar chord with a hushed vocal to a wall of apocalyptic noise that is a beautiful assault on the ears. Mclusky broke up shortly after this album’s release (Falkous went on the form Future of the Left and Christian Fitness, both of which are worth checking out) but they reunited a few years ago as a touring venture. They have recently recorded a new album which is set to be released this May. There are few bands working today who capture the old punk spirit like Mclusky, and I eagerly look forward to their new work.  

Andy Shauf: Another Canadian singer/songwriter! I didn’t even know Shauf existed until I read a review of his most recent album Norm (2023) on a music website. The write-up and accompanying video made the album look intriguing, so I gave it a listen. I now own three of Shauf’s albums on vinyl, and played his song “The Magician” more than any other in 2024 (according to Spotify). Three things immediately spring to mind when I think of Andy Shauf. One: There is a fair amount of clarinet woven through his music— Shauf frequently plays all the instruments on his albums, and clarinet is one of the instruments he knows how to play. It’s a welcome sound, and adds a texture to Shauf’s music that’s quite effective. Two: Shauf writes concept albums—his last four albums have all had a unifying idea threaded through the songs, and Norm even employed a story editor to make sure the narrative hung together correctly. The Party (2016) is about what the title says, Neon Skyline (2020) is set in a bar over the course of an evening, and Wilds (2021) is about an ill-fated vacation. Norm is even more audacious, a story cycle about a hapless loner, his romantic conquest, and er…God. It works like gangbusters, and was probably my favorite album of 2023. Three: Shauf writes with such empathy and insight that it elevates his music above your standard singer/songwriter. Whether he’s singing about quarreling couples or murderous stalkers, Shauf is able to get inside the skin of his characters, to make them come alive. To me, Andy Shauf is the kind of artist so in my musical wheelhouse I should have been listening to him for years; instead, I had to stumble on him almost by accident. Shauf, like all the artists heralded here, have flown under the radar for far too long. Give them a listen; I am certain they will merit your interest.

1. The box set was It’s History, a compilation of Comsat Angels’ first three albums with previously unreleased b-sides. It remains one of my most prized musical possessions. ↩︎
2. This is not a slam on Gang of Four, a band I adore. “Anthrax” off their incredible first album is one of my ten most favorite songs ever. ↩︎
3.  Third album Fiction— which is much poppier than its predecessors—is probably the best of the rest. ↩︎
4. “Skates” is an early showcase of Hayden’s songwriting ability. Over an ominous acoustic guitar strum we get a tale of a meeting between a young store clerk and a sad older man, told in clipped lines that read like laconic poetry: when I was younger/a part-time job worker/department store center/I saw a man enter. The man is buying ice skates, see, but it’s summertime, and the man seems distraught…We eventually get a startling revelation in the final verse that solves our mystery as the song builds to a crescendo, Hayden’s voice howling over the guitar. I found the song chilling when I first heard it on MTV all those years ago, and it still packs considerable power now. ↩︎
5. The one exception is “Dynamite Walls” off Skyscraper National Park, which has a extended guitar solo on its bridge that sounds exactly like something Neil Young would write. It is easily my second-favorite Hayden song. ↩︎
6. A couplet as supporting evidence: my love is bigger than your love/we take more drugs than a touring funk band. ↩︎