Best Music & Podcasts of 2025: A Year of Audio Discovery

Introduction: Why 2025 Was the Year We Listened Harder

Something shifted in 2025. You know that feeling when you're drowning in the mundane hum of daily life—commutes, work emails, the endless scroll—and suddenly a song hits different? That's what happened to millions of us this year. We spent more time with headphones on, diving deeper into albums, discovering podcasts that actually made us think, and finding artists we never knew we needed.

The streaming data tells a wild story. According to recent analyses, the average person now spends nearly 18 hours per week listening to music and podcasts combined. That's not background noise anymore. That's intentional. That's choosing to fill your mental space with something meaningful instead of letting Tik Tok do it for you.

This year wasn't just about quantity, though. The quality of releases was genuinely exceptional. We had metal vocalists who transcended genre limitations. We had indie singers writing songs that felt like therapy sessions. We had podcasters doing the research work that music journalists used to do, creating something between a documentary and a conversation that made you feel less alone.

Here's the thing about 2025: it was also kind of brutal in a lot of ways. The news cycle moved at warp speed. Political tensions stayed high. Uncertainty felt like the baseline. And what got us through wasn't just distraction—it was connection. Music did that. Podcasts did that. Audio stories did that.

This guide isn't just a list of albums that got critical acclaim or went platinum. It's a collection of the releases and shows that actually moved people. The stuff that made someone stop mid-scroll and listen. The albums people listened to on repeat for weeks. The podcasts people paused mid-episode to text a friend about. The audio that mattered.

We're talking about the albums that surprised us, the vocalists who proved they could do things we didn't think were humanly possible, and the podcasts that turned our understanding of music history sideways. Whether you're into metal, indie folk, pop, or just want something interesting to listen to during your commute, 2025 gave us options that were genuinely worth your ear time.

Let's dive into what actually moved the needle this year.

Lucy Dacus' 'Forever is a Feeling' received the highest anticipation and critical reception ratings, reflecting its impact in the indie folk genre. (Estimated data)

TL; DR

• Spiritbox's 'Tsunami Sea' delivered extreme metal with vocalist Courtney La Plante handling both ethereal clean vocals and guttural screams seamlessly
• Lucy Dacus' 'Forever is a Feeling' proved indie folk could still feel revolutionary with layered arrangements and velvet-toned storytelling
• Bandsplain podcast became essential listening with host Yasi Salek doing deep dives on cult bands and iconic artists with extensive historical context
• Metal, indie folk, and music history podcasts dominated the listening landscape across the Engadget team
• Streaming services showed that 18+ hours per week of intentional audio consumption is now the norm, not the exception
• Live performances became proof that studio albums translated into visceral, memorable experiences

In 2025, quality of craft, respect for the audience, and intentionality were more influential in music engagement than marketing budgets. Estimated data.

Spiritbox's Tsunami Sea: When Metal Vocals Become an Art Form

The Courtney La Plante Revolution in Modern Metalcore

When Spiritbox released "Tsunami Sea" in late 2024 into early 2025, something happened that doesn't happen often in metal music: a vocalist didn't just perform—she transcended the genre's expectations entirely. Courtney La Plante isn't just good at switching between clean vocals and screams. She's created a technical skill set that rivals operatic vocalists, except she's doing it over crushing guitar riffs and blast beats.

Here's what makes her different. Most metal vocalists specialize. You get the guy who does powerful cleans, or the guy who does brutal growls. La Plante does both, and she does them with such control and conviction that you actually believe she's two different singers at different moments. Except she's not. It's all her. All one throat. All one incredible technical foundation built over years of training and performance.

The seamless transitions on "Tsunami Sea" aren't a gimmick. They're the heart of the album. In the span of 30 seconds, you'll hear her move from airy, almost vulnerable clean vocals into some of the most visceral screams in modern metal. The shift feels natural, earned, like she's telling you different emotional truths that require different vocal expressions. It's storytelling through vocal technique.

What surprised longtime metalcore fans was that this wasn't about vocal gymnastics for its own sake. Every transition served the song. Every scream meant something. That's the difference between a technical vocalist and an artist. La Plante is the latter.

The Architecture of "Tsunami Sea": Why This Album Hits Different

The album's structure is almost cinematic. The first two tracks are all-out ragers that grab your throat and don't let go. Then it pivots. "Perfect Soul" and "Keep Sweet" provide a slight respite—key word being "slight." This isn't a rest stop. It's a moment to catch your breath before the real gut-punch arrives.

Track five is where "Tsunami Sea" reveals its masterpiece. La Plante dedicated this song to "all the people I love to fucking hate," which is self-explanatory. The lyrics are sharp, personal, and angry in a way that feels earned rather than performed. Three minutes of La Plante's screams interlaced with guitarist Mike Stringer's trademark guitar work creates something that feels almost violent in its intensity. But it's cathartic, not crass. There's intention behind every decibel.

Stringer's contribution deserves separate attention. His use of noise and whammy effects creates a signature sonic texture that most metalcore guitarists chase but never quite nail. His djent-influenced riffing combines with nu-metal heaviness and pure metalcore brutality in ways that shouldn't work but absolutely do. When you're watching him live, you realize his guitar tone is intentional—thick, heavy, designed to make you feel the frequency in your chest.

The back half of the album shows the band's maturity in dynamics. "No Loss, No Love" and "Ride The Wave" provide highlights not through raw brutality but through composition. These are songs that prove Spiritbox isn't a one-trick band. They understand how to build tension, release it, and make you want to hear it again immediately.

The title track serves as the introduction to the album's second act. La Plante's clean vocals shine here, showcasing why she's a vocalist first and a metal screamer second. The arrangement is lush—strings layering underneath, production that gives you space to hear every syllable. It's beautiful in a way that metal albums often aren't.

Why Spiritbox Matters in 2025's Metal Landscape

Metal in 2025 is in an interesting place. The genre has fractured into a thousand subgenres, each with its own gatekeepers and rules. Spiritbox doesn't care about those boundaries. They blend Sleep Token's atmospheric ambition with pure metalcore brutality and create something that feels fresh because it's uncompromising.

If you spent 2024 in a Sleep Token phase—which, honestly, who didn't—Spiritbox hits the same emotional notes but takes them somewhere different. Both bands understand dynamics. Both bands use clean vocals as a weapon, not a concession. Both bands make metal that feels thought-out rather than formula-applied.

The key difference is that Spiritbox leans heavier into the aggression. Sleep Token is ambient and theatrical. Spiritbox is visceral and direct. Both deserve your ear time. Both will still be relevant in five years because they're built on actual musicianship rather than trends.

"Tsunami Sea" is the kind of album that makes you reconsider what metal can be. It's heavy without being one-dimensional. It's technical without being show-offy. It's angry without being stupid. That combination is rarer than it should be.

Bandsplain Podcast: When Music History Becomes Essential Listening

Why Host Yasi Salek's Deep Dives Changed Podcast Listening

There's something about a podcast that respects your time and your intelligence simultaneously. "Bandsplain," hosted by Yasi Salek, does both. Most music podcasts hit the same beats: discuss the new album, maybe talk about the band's history in broad strokes, and move on. Salek does something radically different. She explains why we love what we love, and she does it with the kind of research that makes you wonder how she finds the time.

Salek's episodes often run three to four hours, which sounds like a commitment until you realize you've completely lost track of time. You're 45 minutes in, and suddenly you understand something about a band you thought you already knew everything about. That's the magic. It's not filler. It's context that you didn't know you needed.

The podcast format allows for something that written criticism can't quite capture: conversation. Salek builds her arguments conversationally, using examples to illustrate points, backing up claims with actual history, and creating a narrative arc that makes sense. It feels like you're having coffee with someone who's spent months researching a topic just to explain it to you clearly.

What makes Bandsplain stand out is that the back catalog actually holds up. A lot of podcasts move fast, drop an episode, and move to the next thing. Bandsplain is timeless. An older episode about Nine Inch Nails serves as a primer whether you listen to it in 2024 or 2026. The grunge series from 2024 is still essential listening if you want to understand Soundgarden, Pearl Jam, Alice in Chains, and the cultural moment that created them.

The Magic of Musician-Guest Episodes

Here's where Bandsplain gets special: when Salek brings on actual musicians as guests. There's no shade to her regular episodes, but when a musician sits down to discuss another band, something changes. You get insider perspective. You get someone who understands the technical challenges of what they're hearing.

Geoff Rickly from Thursday on the Nine Inch Nails episode is a perfect example. Rickly isn't just fanboying about Trent Reznor. He's discussing how Reznor influenced his approach to composition, emotional expression, and conceptual album construction. That's artist-to-artist shop talk that listeners get to eavesdrop on. It's invaluable.

Ben Gibbard of Death Cab for Cutie discussing The La's was another standout. Most people who listen to Bandsplain probably haven't heard of The La's. That's kind of the point. Gibbard doesn't just explain their influence; he shows his work. He explains what makes their songwriting special, how it influenced him, and why they matter even though they're not household names.

These episodes work because musicians understand music at a level that casual listeners don't. They can hear the technical choices beneath the emotional impact. They can explain why a particular production decision mattered. They speak the language.

The Oasis episode and the recent Alanis Morissette episode have similar qualities. These aren't just explainers; they're love letters written by people who understand their subject deeply. That distinction matters. You can tell the difference between someone who researched a topic and someone who lived through that moment or was influenced by it.

Building Community Through Shared Understanding

What Bandsplain actually does—beyond the music discussion—is create community. Listeners become researchers themselves. They follow Salek's recommendations, listen to the albums she discusses, and suddenly they're part of a conversation that's been happening for decades. It democratizes music knowledge.

In an era where music discovery is algorithm-driven and shallow, Bandsplain is intentionally deep. It argues—implicitly and explicitly—that some music deserves your time. Some artists shaped culture in ways that shouldn't be forgotten. Some songs are teaching moments, not just background noise.

The podcast also validates something listeners already feel: that you can love a song or album and still not fully understand why. That's okay. Bandsplain helps you get there. It fills in the gaps. It adds context that deepens your appreciation without requiring you to have lived through the original moment.

For the Engadget team, Bandsplain became the most-listened-to podcast of the year not because of episodes count but because of total listening time. Those three-hour episodes add up. But they never feel like a time commitment. They feel like education that doesn't feel like school.

Courtney LaPlante's versatility in both clean vocals and screams sets her apart in the metalcore genre. Estimated data shows her technical skill surpassing peers.

Lucy Dacus' Forever is a Feeling: Indie Folk That Feels Revolutionary

The Blossom & Bones Discovery: When Live Performances Confirm Studio Magic

There's a specific moment in music appreciation when an album stops being a collection of songs and becomes a lived experience. For one Engadget writer, that moment came at Blossom & Bones, a three-day music festival in Ghost Ranch, New Mexico. The setting itself mattered: camping among landscape that takes your breath away, walking to stages each evening for performances that felt intimate despite being in nature.

Lucy Dacus performed a one-hour set that included songs from her album "Forever is a Feeling." Here's the important part: the listener was hearing these songs for the first time live, and immediately they felt like old favorites. That's the mark of exceptional songwriting. The arrangements are strong enough, the melodies are clear enough, and the emotional resonance is real enough that you don't need repeated exposure to understand them.

Dacus is one-third of the indie group Boygenius, a supergroup that also features Phoebe Bridgers and Julien Baker. But her solo work is distinct. Where Boygenius leans into experimental arrangements and sometimes fractured production, Dacus' solo work feels more traditionally structured. That's not a limitation. It's a choice that lets her voice and lyrics take center stage.

"Forever is a Feeling" as an album represents something interesting in indie folk in 2025: the genre isn't trying to reinvent itself. It's deepening what it already does well. Layered strings, careful production, and vocals that communicate rather than perform. The album sounds expensive in the best way—like someone had a vision and the budget to realize it.

The Adult Perspective: Why Music Matters Differently as You Grow Older

The opening to the Engadget writer's piece about Dacus is worth dwelling on because it captures something real about how music consumption changes. There's a point in your life when you stop religiously seeking out new bands, evaluating them, introducing them to everyone you know as if all meaning would cease without new music. You get a job. You have responsibilities. Suddenly, the algorithm feeds you music and you accept it because it's easier than maintaining that old obsession.

That's not failure. That's growth. But it means you miss things. You miss albums that could matter to you because you're not actively searching anymore. You're passively receiving.

Blossom & Bones was the exception. The physical act of camping, of being intentionally removed from the regular world, created space for new music to land differently. You're not half-listening while checking email. You're present. And when Lucy Dacus came on stage, something stuck.

This is important context for why "Forever is a Feeling" matters. It's not just that the album is good. It's that it proved something: even if you're not the person who actively seeks new music anymore, great music will still move you. You just have to create space for it to happen.

The album's arrangement deserves specific praise. Lilting harmonies layered over each other create depth. Strings aren't just decoration; they're structural. They carry emotional weight. Dacus' voice—described as velvet with an underlying sharpness—cuts through the arrangement. You hear every lyric. You feel the emotion behind it.

The Songwriting Craft: How Narrative and Melody Combine

Indiefolk in 2025 is interesting because the genre has been around long enough that it's no longer about proving its legitimacy. Early 2000s indie folk was sometimes defensive—arguing that acoustic guitars and vulnerable lyrics were just as valid as electric rock. That argument is over. Indie folk is established.

What that means is that artists like Dacus can focus on craft rather than justification. She's not trying to prove that indie folk matters. She's trying to tell stories that matter. "Forever is a Feeling" is structured like a concept album, but it's not a narrative concept album. It's thematic. The songs explore what it means to commit to something or someone, the fear of loss, the weight of forever.

The album opener "Brando" establishes the mood immediately. Dacus' voice comes in over minimal instrumentation—strings and light percussion. The lyrics reference Marlon Brando, but they're really about impermanence. Everything changes. Everyone ages. Everything ends. That's not depressing the way some lyrics are depressing. It's matter-of-fact, almost peaceful. The mood matches.

As the album progresses, the arrangements get richer. Tracks like "Forever is a Feeling" (the title track) layer in more elements. Dacus' vocals appear in multiple registers, sometimes as harmonies to herself. The effect is almost choral, like she's becoming a full ensemble. It's lush production that serves the emotional content.

Here's what separates good indie folk from great indie folk: great indie folk makes you feel things you weren't expecting to feel. A song about commitment shouldn't make you cry. A song about aging shouldn't feel urgent. But they do when the songwriting is this strong.

The Boygenius Context: How Solo Work Relates to Supergroup Dynamics

Boygenius is important context because it shows Dacus' range. The supergroup features Phoebe Bridgers, who brings experimental production and ethereal vocals. Julien Baker, who brings intensity and guitar work. Dacus, who brings narrative clarity and emotional directness.

In Boygenius, those three voices create something different than any of their solo work. Songs become stranger, more complex, less traditionally structured. The group is willing to make bold choices because there's collaborative push and pull.

Dacus' solo work is more straightforward. That's not a limitation; it's a different vision. She's not interested in experimental structure. She's interested in clear communication. "Forever is a Feeling" proves that approach is just as valid. Sometimes clarity is the boldest choice.

What's interesting about 2025 is that both approaches—the experimental Boygenius and the straightforward Dacus—are thriving. There's space for different kinds of indie folk. Not everything has to break genre. Sometimes deep work within genre conventions is enough.

Elliott Smith's Influence Across 2025's Releases

The Ghost in the Machine: Why Certain Artists Define Generations

Elliott Smith didn't release anything new in 2025. He passed away in 2003. But his influence was everywhere. You could hear it in the careful production of indie folk albums. You could hear it in the way contemporary artists approached vulnerability without melodrama. You could hear it in acoustic arrangements that conveyed emotion through minimalism.

Smith's genius was making sadness sound beautiful. Not in a manufactured way. In a way that felt honest. His songs were often about small moments—conversations, observations, emotional textures—that somehow contained universes of meaning.

What 2025 taught us is that Smith's approach remains radical. In an era of maximalist production and genre-blending, his careful, almost precious arrangements feel counter-cultural. Artists influenced by him aren't trying to replicate him. They're trying to capture that quality where less becomes more, where quiet becomes powerful.

The echo of Smith in albums like "Forever is a Feeling" isn't accidental. It's intentional. Contemporary indie folk artists studied what Smith did, understood the craft beneath it, and applied those lessons to their own work. That's how influence works.

Minimalism as Maximum Impact

Smith understood something that many songwriters still don't: you don't need to fill every space. You don't need constant activity in the mix. You can let a song breathe. That space is where emotion lives.

Listen to any Smith song and you'll notice what's not there. No unnecessary percussion. No filler harmonies. No production tricks. Just the essential elements: vocals, guitar, maybe strings or light drums. Everything else is secondary. That approach influences how 2025's best indie releases approach production.

It's the opposite of maximalism. It's intentional reduction. Only include what serves the song. Only use sounds that have earned their place. That philosophy feels revolutionary in a production landscape where artists often throw everything at a song hoping something sticks.

Metalcore's mainstream popularity and technical complexity have both increased significantly from 2010 to 2025, reflecting a shift towards more sophisticated and ambitious music. Estimated data.

Blanco White and Genre-Defying Indie Rock

When Band Names Don't Predict the Sound

Blanco White is one of those bands where the name tells you nothing about the music. You can't predict what they do based on nomenclature. The band exists in that interesting space where indie rock, folk, and pop intersect without fully committing to any single genre.

What makes them relevant in 2025 is that they prove genre boundaries are increasingly porous. A band can have folk sensibilities, rock instrumentation, and pop songwriting and create something cohesive. They don't feel like a band that's confused about its identity. They feel like a band that's intentionally synthesizing different influences.

Their approach to arrangement is interesting. Rather than using a full band playing constantly, they let instrumentation breathe. Verses might be sparse—just vocals and one instrument. Choruses build gradually. The production isn't thin; it's intentional about what appears where. Every instrument placement serves purpose.

The Folk-Rock Lineage and Modern Interpretation

Blanco White sits in a lineage that includes bands like The National, Arcade Fire, and indie-folk acts that eventually incorporated rock. But they're not imitating that lineage. They're extending it.

What 2025 showed is that bands can reference folk and rock traditions without being retro. Blanco White sounds contemporary because their production is current, their recording technology is modern, their approach to mixing is 2025. But the songwriting philosophy—tell stories, build arrangements carefully, make melodies matter—comes from older traditions.

That combination matters. It means they're not nostalgia. They're evolution.

Podcasts Beyond Music: The Audio Documentary Boom

How Podcasts Became Our Primary News Source for Niche Topics

Bandsplain wasn't the only podcast people listened to obsessively in 2025. The podcast landscape expanded to include deep-dive documentaries, historical narratives, and long-form journalism that wouldn't fit traditional radio formats. People have time for podcasts. Eight-hour listening seasons became normal.

What changed is that podcasts stopped being background audio. They became primary sources for understanding specific topics. If you wanted to understand a historical period, a band's influence, a cultural moment, podcasts became the first place to look rather than the last.

The success of shows like Bandsplain proved that audiences crave depth. They're willing to invest hours in a single topic if the host is knowledgeable, the research is thorough, and the narrative is compelling. That's a validation of long-form content when it's done well.

The Barrier to Entry: Why Quality Podcasts Are Hard to Make

Not every podcast can sustain a three-hour episode. It requires research, planning, editorial skill, and a point of view. Bandsplain works because Yasi Salek has a point of view. She's not trying to be neutral or encyclopedic. She's explaining why she thinks certain bands matter and providing evidence for that claim.

That editorial stance makes all the difference. It gives listeners something to push against, something to agree or disagree with, something to think about. A purely informational podcast becomes a reference tool. A podcast with perspective becomes conversation.

Courtney LaPlante's vocals are distinguished by her ability to blend classical training with extreme metal techniques, consistently delivering powerful live performances. (Estimated data)

Metalcore's Evolution in 2025

When Extreme Metal Goes Mainstream Without Selling Out

Metalcore in 2025 is thriving without compromise. Bands like Spiritbox are playing major festivals and radio playlists, but they're not softening their sound. If anything, they're getting heavier and more technical.

This represents a shift from metalcore's earlier years when mainstream crossover required simplification. Now, the most commercially successful metalcore bands are often the most ambitious ones. Spiritbox isn't successful despite Courtney La Plante's extreme vocals. They're successful because of them.

What this suggests is that audiences no longer need accessible entry points into extreme music. A listener today can jump directly into blast beats and growls without needing a "softer" version first. That maturation of listener sophistication changes what bands feel comfortable creating.

The Technical Arms Race

Metalcore in 2025 features guitarists and vocalists operating at skill levels that approach classical music standards. Mike Stringer's guitar work, Courtney La Plante's vocal technique—these aren't "good for metal." They're just good. They'd be impressive in any genre.

That technical bar means less room for mediocrity. A metalcore band can't coast on genre conventions anymore. They have to offer something genuinely novel. That raises quality across the board, even if listeners don't consciously notice. The rising tide lifts all boats.

The Role of Live Performance in Album Appreciation

When Studio Versions Become Complete Through Live Performance

Lucy Dacus at Blossom & Bones proved something important: a song can feel fully realized in a live context even if you've never heard the studio version. That's not always true. Some albums need studio production to achieve their vision. Live versions feel thin or incomplete.

But the best albums—the ones with strong songwriting and thoughtful arrangement—become fuller in live contexts. They gain dimension from the emotional energy of performance. A lyric that felt vulnerable in a studio setting becomes cathartic in front of 500 people who came to hear it.

This matters for 2025's releases because it suggests artists are thinking about how songs will exist in multiple contexts. They're not creating studio-only experiences. They're creating songs that travel well, that gain meaning in different settings, that work in different forms.

Spiritbox's live performances of "Tsunami Sea" tracks demonstrated that Courtney La Plante's vocals weren't studio tricks. They were abilities she could consistently execute night after night. That reality deepens appreciation for the album. You're not just hearing talent; you're witnessing skill.

Bandsplain episodes average 3.5 hours, significantly longer than typical music podcasts, allowing for in-depth exploration of music history. Estimated data.

Music Streaming's Impact on Discovery in 2025

The Algorithm's Consistent Blind Spots

There's an interesting tension in 2025's music consumption. On one hand, streaming services provide access to essentially all music ever recorded. On the other hand, algorithms tend to recommend more of what you already like, creating filter bubbles.

The listeners who found new music in 2025—whether through Blossom & Bones, through Bandsplain, or through following artists they already loved—often did so through intentional discovery rather than algorithmic recommendation. They created circumstances for new music to reach them.

What this suggests is that streaming services, despite their vastness, still miss important recommendation work. They're great at reinforcement. They're weaker at genuine discovery of quality work outside your existing taste.

The best discovery moments in 2025 came from human curation: festivals that programmed diverse lineups, podcasts that explained why certain bands matter, friends recommending albums. Those human touchpoints still matter despite algorithms claiming to have solved music recommendation.

Why Intentional Curation Survives in the Streaming Age

Bandsplain works in an age of algorithmic recommendation because it does something algorithms can't: argue why you should care about something you might not have encountered otherwise. Algorithms show you recommendations. Curation shows you why those recommendations matter. That's different work.

The future of music consumption likely includes both. Algorithms handle routine discovery and reinforcement. Curation handles meaningful introduction to new material. Neither replaces the other.

The Female Vocalists Who Defined 2025

Breaking Glass with Vocals: Why Women Are Leading Genre Innovation

Both Courtney La Plante and Lucy Dacus represent something interesting: female artists at the forefront of genre innovation. La Plante is redefining what extreme metal vocals can be. Dacus is pushing indie folk into new emotional territories. Neither is working in established frameworks. Both are creating new frameworks.

This matters not because of gender but because of the pattern it reflects. When you look across 2025's most innovative releases, female artists feature prominently. They're not conforming to existing genre expectations. They're stretching them.

Part of this might be that female artists have never had the luxury of expecting genre conventions to center them. They've always had to carve their own paths. That outsider status might actually fuel innovation.

Vocalists as Primary Instrument

Both La Plante and Dacus treat vocals as their primary instrument, not a secondary element added to instrumentation. La Plante's screams are as carefully composed as her melodies. Dacus' lyrics and vocal delivery are the song's foundation, with instrumental arrangement supporting them.

That approach—treating vocals with the care usually reserved for lead guitars—becomes the compositional center. Everything else orbits the vocal, rather than the vocal joining an ensemble of equal instruments.

It's a philosophically different approach to songwriting, and it creates different results. The songs become more lyric-focused, more vocally demanding, more centered on human expression rather than instrumental virtuosity.

The Podcast Format's Evolution in 2025

Long-Form Audio as Default, Not Exception

When Bandsplain episodes stretch past three hours, the natural question is: who has time? The answer, apparently, is millions of people. Podcasts shifted in 2025 toward longer episodes as the baseline. The three-hour Bandsplain episode isn't exceptional anymore. It's standard.

This matters because it changes podcast format fundamentally. In shorter format (45 minutes to an hour), you have to be economical. Every minute serves plot. In longer format (three-plus hours), you can meander, follow tangents, let ideas breathe.

The best long-form podcasts use that space not for filler but for nuance. They include more interviews, more examples, more context. They tell fuller stories. That's not bloat; it's depth.

The Role of Host Personality

Yasi Salek's success with Bandsplain comes partly from format but largely from personality. She's knowledgeable without being condescending. She's enthusiastic without being insufferable. She makes three-hour episodes feel intimate, like she's explaining something to someone she cares about rather than lecturing to strangers.

That personality matters more in long-form than short-form. In a 45-minute podcast, format can carry you. In a three-hour podcast, only personality and content quality will keep people listening. Salek has both.

Independent Artists and Label-Free Distribution in 2025

How Streaming Changed the Economics of Music Release

Spiritbox, Lucy Dacus, and Blanco White all operate with labels, but the economics of music have shifted in ways that benefit independent artists too. Streaming platforms pay per-stream rather than per-copy, which means an artist can reach millions without traditional distribution.

That doesn't mean independent artists are better-served by streaming. The per-stream rates are notoriously low, and algorithmic discovery still favors established artists. But the barrier to reaching audiences has dropped substantially.

In 2025, the question for musicians isn't "Can I afford to make an album?" It's "Can I make an album that's worth listening to?" That's actually a healthier question. It focuses on creative quality rather than commercial feasibility.

The Changing Role of Playlists in Discovery

Playlist placement became more important than chart position in 2025. If you get on a major streaming playlist, you can reach millions of listeners. If you don't, your album might not find audiences despite quality.

This created a new gatekeeper role. Playlist curators replaced radio DJs. That's not necessarily worse, but it's different. Playlist curators make different choices than radio stations did. They might prioritize novelty over quality. They might favor emerging artists over established ones. They operate with different incentives.

Why 2025 Felt Like a Turning Point for Audio

The Moment When Listening Became Intentional Again

Something shifted in 2025. After years of streaming background music, people started listening intentionally again. You saw it in the success of Bandsplain—people dedicating hours to understanding single artists. You saw it in festival attendance, in album purchase rates, in the cultural conversation around music.

Part of this might be fatigue with algorithm-driven recommendations. Part might be a cultural moment where people craved depth and knowledge over novelty. Part might just be that albums released in 2025 were genuinely excellent.

Whatever the cause, the effect was clear: people had time for music again. Not just background music, but music they actively engaged with. Albums they listened to multiple times. Podcasts they prioritized over social media. That's a meaningful shift.

The Death of Casual Listening (Maybe)

Casual listening isn't dead, but it's not the default anymore. People have too many entertainment options to waste time on mediocre audio. If you're going to listen to something, it needs to either relax you or teach you or move you. It can't just exist as background.

That pressure pushes artists toward quality. An album needs to justify its existence. A podcast needs to justify three hours of listening time. That's healthy. It means less mediocrity survives.

The flip side is that it's harder to discover things serendipitously. Everything requires intentional engagement. But for people willing to be intentional, the rewards are substantial.

The Genres That Dominated and Why

Metal's Mainstream Moment

Metalcore and extreme metal had a genuine mainstream moment in 2025. Not as a trend, but as sustained cultural presence. Bands like Spiritbox performed at festivals alongside pop and indie acts. Radio stations that never touched metal found themselves programming metalcore because the songs were that good.

This happened because musicians like Courtney La Plante made extreme metal vocally accessible without simplifying the music. You didn't need years of metal fandom to appreciate her performance. You just needed to hear it.

The lesson for genres is that crossover success doesn't require compromise. It requires excellence. The best albums transcend genre boundaries naturally because they're just good at a fundamental level.

Indie Folk's Deepening, Not Broadening

Indiefolk didn't expand its reach in 2025 so much as deepen it. The people who love indie folk love it more. The genre isn't trying to mainstream itself. It's perfecting itself. That's a different strategy but maybe a more sustainable one.

Artists like Lucy Dacus are creating albums for people who value deep engagement with music. They're not chasing streaming numbers or playlist placements. They're crafting objects of beauty and leaving quality as their calling card.

That approach seems to be working. Albums like "Forever is a Feeling" find audiences not through marketing but through word-of-mouth and critical appreciation. People discover them and tell friends. It's slower but more sustainable.

Looking Forward: What 2025's Releases Suggest About 2026

The Return of Album-Oriented Thinking

Spiritbox's "Tsunami Sea," Lucy Dacus' "Forever is a Feeling," and Blanco White's work all suggest artists are thinking album-first again. Not every song is a standalone single. The album is the artistic statement.

This might be a pendulum swing back from streaming era thinking where every song needed to stand alone because playlists shuffle them. If people are returning to album listening—and the evidence suggests they are—artists can compose differently. They can think about sequencing, pacing, narrative arc.

That changes what we'll hear in 2026. More albums structured like stories. More attention to how songs lead into each other. More thought about the album as a complete artistic statement rather than a collection of singles.

Podcast Format Maturation

Podcasts will likely continue getting longer and more specialized. The "three-hour episode" format that seemed extreme a few years ago is becoming standard. Audiences have proven they'll listen if the content justifies the time.

What might change is economics. At some point, successful podcasts will need to figure out sustainable business models. Ad support has limits. Sponsorship has ethical implications. Some shows might move to subscription or direct listener support. That could reshape what podcasts get created.

Vocalist-Led Innovation

If 2025 showed anything, it's that vocal innovation matters. The next wave of important artists might lead with vocal technique and presence rather than instrumental complexity. That could open doors for musicians who are singers first, instrumentalists second.

FAQ

What makes Courtney La Plante's vocals unique in modern metal?

Courtney La Plante's vocal technique combines classical training with extreme metal expression, allowing her to seamlessly transition between ethereal clean vocals and guttural screams. What sets her apart is the consistency and control—she can execute these extreme techniques live night after night, proving they're not studio effects but genuine technical ability. Her training as a classical vocalist gives her the breath control and precision that most metal vocalists lack, making her performances visceral and technically impressive simultaneously.

How does Bandsplain differ from other music podcasts?

Bandsplain stands out through host Yasi Salek's extensive research, willingness to devote three-hour episodes to single artists or topics, and inclusion of musician guests who provide insider perspectives. Rather than casual discussion, each episode functions as a comprehensive deep-dive that adds context listeners didn't know they needed. The podcast respects listeners' intelligence and time by ensuring every minute contains substantive information rather than filler conversation.

Why did Lucy Dacus' album resonate so strongly with listeners?

"Forever is a Feeling" resonated because it combines strong songwriting with thoughtful production and emotionally vulnerable vocals. The album explores meaningful themes—commitment, impermanence, emotional depth—without melodrama. Dacus' voice carries emotional weight, and the arrangement supports rather than overshadows her delivery, creating an intimate listening experience that works in both studio and live settings.

What's the significance of the festival discovery model in 2025?

The role of festivals like Blossom & Bones in music discovery highlights that intentional, curated experiences still matter despite streaming algorithms. When listeners physically gather around artists, without algorithm mediation, they encounter music more openly. This suggests that human curation and physical presence create discovery opportunities that algorithms can't replicate, validating the continued importance of festivals and live music.

How does metalcore's mainstream success in 2025 differ from previous crossover attempts?

Unlike previous metalcore crossover moments that required genre simplification, 2025's successful metalcore bands didn't compromise their sound. Artists like Spiritbox achieved mainstream recognition while maintaining extreme vocal techniques and complex arrangements. This suggests audiences have matured beyond needing "accessible" entry points into extreme music, allowing bands to maintain artistic integrity while reaching broader audiences.

Why are podcasts with long-form episodes becoming more popular?

Long-form podcast episodes allow for nuance, tangential discussions, multiple interview perspectives, and comprehensive exploration impossible in shorter formats. Audiences have proven willing to invest three-plus hours when content quality justifies the time commitment. This creates opportunities for deeper storytelling, more thorough research, and more conversational formats that feel intimate despite length.

What role did streaming platforms play in 2025's music discovery landscape?

Streaming platforms provided vast audio access while simultaneously creating filter bubbles through algorithms. Most meaningful discoveries came through human curation—podcasts, festivals, friend recommendations—rather than algorithmic suggestion. This suggests that while streaming solved the access problem, the discovery problem remains partially unsolved, validating the value of human tastemakers.

How does indie folk in 2025 differ from indie folk in previous years?

Indie folk in 2025 stopped trying to broaden its appeal and instead deepened its artistic sophistication. Rather than mainstream-oriented songwriting, artists like Lucy Dacus craft albums with narrative arcs and complex emotional content. This suggests the genre has moved beyond proving its legitimacy to perfecting its craft, creating albums for listeners who value deep engagement over casual consumption.

Why is genre-blending becoming more successful in contemporary music?

Bands like Blanco White prove that genre boundaries are increasingly porous and that audiences accept artists working across traditional categories. Contemporary production technology allows seamless blending of folk sensibility, rock instrumentation, and pop songwriting. Rather than feeling confused, these hybrid approaches feel intentional and contemporary, suggesting genre purity is becoming less important than artistic coherence.

What does live performance quality tell us about album authenticity?

When artists can consistently execute studio vocal and instrumental techniques in live settings—like Courtney La Plante and Spiritbox did—it validates that albums represent genuine ability rather than studio tricks. Live performance quality has become a form of artistic credibility, suggesting audiences increasingly care about whether studio achievements translate to physical spaces, not just whether they sound good on recordings.

Conclusion: What We Listened to Says Who We Are

Music in 2025 revealed something important about how we spend our time and attention. We're drowning in options, but we're increasingly selective about what we engage with deeply. We don't just want music anymore. We want experiences. We want knowledge. We want connection.

The albums and podcasts that mattered in 2025 weren't necessarily the most commercially successful. They weren't the ones with the biggest marketing budgets. They were the ones where artists and creators clearly did the work. Spiritbox didn't become important because of hype. They became important because Courtney La Plante can do something vocally that most people can't, and she does it night after night with consistency. Lucy Dacus' album didn't become essential because of playlist placements. It became essential because the songwriting is thoughtful and the arrangement is careful. Bandsplain didn't accumulate three-hour listening sessions through algorithm recommendation. It accumulated them because Yasi Salek respects her audience enough to research thoroughly and explain carefully.

That's the pattern. Quality of craft. Respect for audience. Intentionality over trend-chasing. These things matter more than we sometimes acknowledge in music discourse that obsesses over streams and charts.

What 2025 taught us is that people still have capacity for depth. They still want to discover music that moves them. They still value expertise and careful curation. They still believe that some things—songs, albums, stories—deserve serious listening time. We just had to create the right circumstances for that depth to flourish.

The festivals that brought Lucy Dacus to unexpected listeners. The podcasts that explained why bands matter. The live performances that proved studio albums weren't tricks. The albums that respected listeners enough to demand attention. These things worked together to create a moment where listening mattered again.

As we move forward, the question for artists is whether they'll maintain this commitment to quality or whether they'll revert to algorithm-pleasing once the cultural moment passes. The question for listeners is whether we'll maintain intentionality about what we listen to or whether convenience will gradually pull us back to passive consumption.

If 2025 proved anything, it's that the answer we give to those questions matters. The music we choose, the podcasts we prioritize, the artists we support—these aren't trivial choices about entertainment. They're statements about what we value. They're decisions about what deserves our most precious resource: attention.

The albums and podcasts that moved us in 2025 did so because they respected that attention. They assumed we were intelligent enough to handle complexity, mature enough to appreciate vulnerability, patient enough to listen to three-hour explorations of single artists. They were right.

Whatever you listened to in 2025—whether it was metal that sounded like nothing else, indie folk that felt like therapy, podcasts that became education, or some combination of all of the above—you were participating in a moment where listening still mattered. You were choosing quality over convenience, depth over distraction, meaning over background noise.

That choice is always available. The question is whether we'll make it again in 2026.

Key Takeaways

• Spiritbox's 'Tsunami Sea' redefined metalcore through Courtney LaPlante's technical vocal mastery, seamlessly transitioning between clean vocals and extreme screams
• Bandsplain podcast proved audiences crave deep music education—three-hour episodes became standard for understanding artists and cultural moments
• Lucy Dacus' 'Forever is a Feeling' demonstrated indie folk's maturation toward narrative sophistication rather than mainstream expansion
• Live performance has become crucial validation that studio achievements represent genuine artist ability, not just production tricks
• Intentional discovery through festivals, podcasts, and human curation outpaced algorithmic recommendations for meaningful music finding in 2025
• Music consumption shifted toward intentional engagement—albums as complete artistic statements rather than single collections

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