Soulful indie magic and panache from the heart of France, Liora Senvelle has more to her than what meets the eyes and hits the ears. You may not have heard of her until now, but this French enchantress wants to change that—the independent music world's ultimate contradiction, Senvelle is both peculiarly familiar and enthrallingly foreign.

Hailing from the romantic city of Paris, Liora interprets music like a Monet painting—dabbling melodies and harmonies amidst her sonic tapestry. Clear your mind, put your feet up, and watch the Eiffel Tower in the distance as you lose yourself in Senvelle's sonic portraits. With a humor as rich as a freshly baked croissant and a voice warmer than the French Riviera, she's not your typical chanteuse.

Her standout ballad 'You Crash' is an invitation to a dramatic tête-à-tête with raw, unfiltered emotion. Reminiscent of your first wine-soaked heartbreak, it hits you with a wallop of an oh là là!. Senvelle is climbing that Parisian cobblestone hill to stardom, and it won't be long before she's basking in the glow of the independent music scene's city lights.

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Introducing the globe-trotting dance dynamo, Sebastian, affectionally dubbed the 'Duke of Disco'. Born and raised among the vibrant and pulsating rhythms of Ibiza's legendary nightlife, Sebastian’s music etches smiles on the faces of anyone within earshot.

Sharpening his musical teeth on the sun-baked terraces of Spain's party capital, our indie ingénue soon became a stalwart figure within the local music scene. Known as much for his wicked sense of humor as for his irresistible beats, Sebastian's talent lies not only in songwriting but also in adding an auditory zest that’s like a surprise party for your eardrums.

His magnum opus, "Master Plan (feat Nora)", is the sparkling crown jewel of his dance floor couture. As unpredictable as a bull in a china shop and as spectacular as a shooting star, the track bursts with contagious energy. You’ll find yourself irresistibly entwined in a rhythmical rave, whether you’re shaking it out on the dance floor or boom-bombing your tedious Tuesday.

A maestro of merriment and melody, Sebastian serves up an infectious blend of dance with a generous side of joy. Get ready, disco divas and groove gurus alike, the 'Duke of Disco’ is in town, dishing out fresh altitude to your attitude, one beat at a time.

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Lucía doesn’t raise her voice — she lets silence lean toward her.

Born in Ciudad Juárez, where the wind carries both prayers and warnings, Lucía learned early that strength doesn’t shout — it stands still. Her music wasn’t born in studios. It was carved in alleyways, border bars, long walks home. She didn’t grow up dreaming of stages. She grew up walking away from things that didn’t serve her.

Her voice carries the weight of absence — low, textured, unhurried. With influences rooted in ranchera, flamenco, and tango, she weaves stories that don’t plead, but remember. Every note she sings is a scar that glows.

In recent years, Lucía has emerged as one of Filodyo’s most enigmatic voices — fierce, private, unforgettable. On her latest collaboration with Wade Hollis, the gravel-toned American guitarist, Lucía sings over strings like rusted fences in the sun. The song doesn’t comfort. It confronts — just like her.

The connection began far from stages. While Wade Hollis was recording new material with Filodyo, he mentioned a woman he had once heard playing in a dim-lit cantina near the border. “She sings like she’s been through three lifetimes,” he said. It was during a late-night Zoom call with Hakan E., the creative engine behind Filodyo, that Lucía’s name resurfaced.

By chance — or something heavier — Hakan had just expressed his search for a voice that wasn’t sweet, wasn’t polished — but true. “I need someone who sounds like she doesn’t need anyone,” he had said. A few weeks later, their first conversation took place across a flickering Zoom screen. Lucía, seated on a balcony in Mexico, cigarette in hand. No makeup. No pretenses. Just presence.

That was enough.

Now, her voice travels far from the cantinas — but it never left the dust behind.

You don’t listen to Lucía to feel better.
You listen to feel seen.

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Ayvenn was born and raised in Clearwater Heights, a quiet hillside town in Georgia where music wasn’t just background noise — it was how people coped, celebrated, and remembered. From Sunday gospel choirs to late-night Latin radio, the sounds around him shaped a boy who rarely spoke, but always listened. In silence, he learned to interpret the world. And when he began writing lyrics, it wasn’t about performance — it was about decoding feelings he couldn’t name.

Fusing Pop and R&B with understated Latin textures, Ayvenn crafts music that feels more like film than formula. His voice is warm, restrained, and precise — a narrator of emotional undercurrents rather than explosions. Each track unfolds slowly, deliberately, like memories coming into focus. There’s clarity in his subtlety, weight in his pauses.

His breakout song, “All for One Y.” was born from an unexpected connection. Hakan E — the mind behind Filodyo, known for his instinct in spotting rare talent — reached out after hearing early demos from Ayvenn. He sent a short message and a concept: “This isn’t a love song. It’s a math problem.” That idea resonated deeply. To Ayvenn, the X’s weren’t just variables — they were past mistakes, unanswered questions, the people he couldn’t quite hold onto. And the “Y”? The reason he kept trying.

Ayvenn recorded the song in a single late-night session, layering vocals with surgical attention, pulling tension from silence, and shaping each detail until it echoed with something intimate and real. To Solve for Y isn’t just a debut — it’s an internal dialogue turned outward, crafted for anyone who’s ever tried to explain a feeling they didn’t fully understand.

Now, Ayvenn is building a sound that’s emotionally meticulous, sonically immersive, and unmistakably his own. Every track is a quiet revelation. Every heartbreak, every wrong turn — part of the formula. And somewhere, at the end of it, is the answer. Always her.

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Dora Corr is an EDM vocalist and songwriter born and raised in Dublin, Ireland. Before her debut single, she worked at a small, weathered music shop tucked away in Rathmines — a place where synths came in half-broken and left humming again, usually thanks to her.

By day, she tuned old keyboards and restocked trance CDs. By night, she recorded vocal sketches on her cracked laptop, blending soft-spoken Irish melancholy with pulsing beats she never planned to share.

That changed in early 2025, when renowned electronic producer Mark Martian visited Dublin for a creative summit. While killing time between panels, he wandered into Dora’s shop — and found her quietly looping vocal takes in the back room.

Struck by the raw emotion and unusual cadence of her sound, Mark simply asked, “Have you ever thought about making something bigger?” She shrugged. “Not really. But I’d like to.” Energized, Mark immediately called Hakan E., the creative force behind Filodyo.

“I just found someone. We need to get into a studio, fast,” he said. Intrigued, Hakan asked to hear her demos. Mark sent over a few scratch recordings that same night.

Within days, Dora was in a temporary studio above the River Liffey, recording "Paper Moon" — a haunting, minimalist debut that floats somewhere between whispered confession and late-night dance floor, co-produced by Mark Martian for a new Filodyo project.

Dora Corr isn’t chasing pop formulas or peak-hour builds. She’s carving a lane where fragility can still make you move — and where “na na na na” says more than a chorus ever could.

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Straight out of the indie heartland, meet Eliza Turing, the happy-go-lucky troubadour with a knack for knitting melodies that stick to your soul. Turing, unmistakably named in honor of her Silicon Valley roots, is a dose of sunshine in melancholic indie sound, with the main weapon in her musical arsenal being her 'filodyo' in enchanting harmony with her lyrics.

Every indie artist has their quirkiest, and Turing isn’t exempt. Yes, her crafty way of turning our text messages into her songs, it's like she's reading your chatbox through her chords. And yet, she carries an uncanny ability to transcribe these frivolous life ontologies into ballads with resilience and ample generosity – the persona aside her cat-loving nature.

Her standout track "Twilight" is a testament to this, translating the day's end languor into a jovial indie anthem that sets your feet tapping and heart humming. Turing taps into the secret sauce of scoring happiness, infusing a vibrant, peppy melody into her music.

So next time the day weighs heavy, your vibe seeks the indie humming, or perhaps, your feline friend needs a den companion, you know whose Soundcloud account to check out. No autographs, please, Turing only signs on music sheets, with notes, duck!

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If sugar, spice, and a foot-tapping bass were a person, they'd invariably shape-shift into Maelith. The indie dance sensation hails from the mythical city of her namesake – a place as enigmatic, vibrant, and pulsating as her music.

Coming from a realm where the sunrise paints the sky in a symphony of techno hues, Maelith's city of origin is as enigmatic and infectious as her tunes and just as impossible to tune out. It only makes sense then, that her celebratory dance beats make even the grumpiest of granddads do a head bob or two.

Her notable track "Butterflies" will make a surprising entrance, landing in your heart with the grace and charm of a thousand of the colourful creatures, evoking smiles usually reserved for sunbeams and unexpected tax refunds. It's like eating candy in a club - tooth-achingly sweet, and deliciously intoxicating.

Maelith's music isn't just happy—it's a spontaneous euphoria packed into dance beats. Each track, a flawless mesh of elevating melodies sure to paint a bright, neon smile on your face. It never rains in Maelith's city. So, grab an umbrella because you're about to get showered with joy bombs!

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Scoot over, Marley, there’s a new reggae sheriff in town. Straight from the sunny sidewalks of Kingston, Jamaica, the Dreadlock Boys are laying down fresh beats in the reggae scene.

This pair of plaited prodigies isn't your grandma's reggae. Combining traditional roots rhythms with just a hint of ska spice and a not-so-subtle sprinkle of dancehall energy, these boys aren't just playing by the book – they’re writing their own. And don't let that laid-back island vibe fool you; these guys are as serious about making you laugh as they are about perfecting the offbeat.

Their standout single "Riddim of Peace" might just be the happiest jam this side of Montego Bay. With its earworm melody and bouncy bassline, it’s as infectious as a belly laugh in a silent library. It's the kind of track that leaves the grumpiest of gurners grinning like a Cheshire cat at an all-you-can-eat fish buffet.

So come, sit, and sway to the soothing sounds of the Dreadlock Boys. They'll be your pint-sized purveyors of peace, your lyrical lifesavers when the going gets tough. After all, joy does come in the morning and the Dreadlock Boys are here to serve it up with a side of reggae, none of those nasty grimaces, thank you very much.

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Born from the concrete veins of New York City’s underground, The 5th Exit is not just a band — it's a warning siren echoing through the alleys of Brooklyn. Blending the unapologetic grit of East Coast punk with the swagger of early-2000s hip-hop, their music punches through the noise like a subway train in a blackout.

The band was formed in late 2023 in a condemned warehouse turned DIY venue in Bushwick, after a street brawl-turned-jam-session between strangers. The result? Five misfits who had no plan — just noise, energy, and something to scream.

Members:
🎤 Jayno Blakk (Lead Vocals / Chaos Designer)
A former graffiti artist with a voice like broken glass in a hurricane. Born in Flatbush, Jayno spits lyrics like they’re Molotovs, laced with rage and raw truth. Known for performing barefoot and bleeding by the end of every show.

🎸 Noelle "Nox" Vega (Lead Guitar / FX Wizard)
Puerto Rican shredder with a physics degree and a pedalboard built from junkyard parts. She speaks three languages — four if you count distortion. Her solos? They don’t melt faces; they dissolve them.

🥁 Koda Rinz (Drums / Street Philosopher)
Half-poet, half-brawler. Raised by subway dancers and vinyl collectors, Koda’s beats sound like trash cans getting kicked down tenement stairwells — in perfect time. Always drumming, even in his sleep.

🎹 Echo Rowe (Synths / Scream Textures / Visuals)
The silent one. Echo doesn’t talk much, but his synth work sounds like a riot at 3AM. Also responsible for their chaotic visuals and the recurring raven motif in their shows. Rumor has it he lives in an abandoned radio tower in Queens.

🎸 Twitchy Lex (Bass / Vibe Damage Control)
Lex is the glue, or maybe the duct tape. Raised on R&B but corrupted by noise rock, he brings the groove — the dangerous kind that gets under your skin and sets off car alarms.

Their Breakout Track: "Get Out My Way"
A sonic punch to the throat, "Get Out My Way" is a war cry against complacency, gentrification, and anyone walking slow on a New York sidewalk. With a chorus that hits like a riot chant and verses that spit pure venom, it’s already being banned from small-town radio — which only makes it louder.

The 5th Exit isn’t asking for your attention. They’re taking it.
You can either move... or get run over.

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Hailing from the sun-soaked shores of Miami, Ocean Girls are your new favorite indie-pop queens on the horizon. Drenched in sun, surf, and ceaseless cheer, their music is the audio equivalent of a ray of sunshine in what can sometimes be the storm of life.

Assuming their name from the very city they call home, these beach-town belles serve up chart-topping hits faster than a Florida diner slings hashbrowns. They've got the sass of the Spice Girls, the attitude of Madonna and just a pinch of Miami's own Gloria Estefan sizzling through each track. Ocean Girls have got a knack for taking even the most mundane moments, chucking them full of pizzazz, and dishing out feel-good anthems that simply command you to "Stay Happy."

Stick an Ocean Girls track on, and suddenly you're cruising down Ocean Drive, hair flapping in the breeze, and the somewhat distant memory of work drowned out by catchy choruses and sparkling melodies. These girls are more than just a band - they're a one-way ticket to a beach-front pop utopia where the vibe is always good, the beats are always flowing, and frowns are most certainly not allowed. When life hands you lemons, Ocean Girls hands you a margarita. Now, that's the kind of exchange rate we can get behind!

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A hidden gem in the bustling indie music world, Dani T is so underground you'll need a shovel to find him. Born among the spinning disco balls of Transylvania, Romania, this mirthful music alchemist knows how to glitter in the dark.

With his effervescent concoction of synth-laden dance beats, Dani T brings the Transylvanian nightlife to your speakers of choice. His infectious track, "One More Day," is just like garlic to a vampire—utterly irresistible and heating up dancefloors faster than Dracula racing to his coffin at sunrise.

Dani T's talent lies in his ability to infuse his tracks with a joy so potent it could charm a sullen ghoul out of a funk. His music doesn't just evoke happiness—it practically puts it on steroids, glitters it up, and sends it spinning out into the world with a bass-pounding emphasis.

The ghosts of Dani T’s concert crowd may lack a pulse, but trust us, they know how to party. So why stake your heart on mainstream artists when you can sink your teeth into Dani T’s deliciously diverse dark dance tracks? Hop on the next night train to Transylvania, and give Dani T's music a fangtastic whirl.

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Broken Halos Club is a ghost-lit rock outfit born in the after-hours of a burned-out bar in Cincinnati. Fronted by the enigmatic Leo Ryder, whose voice cuts like broken glass wrapped in velvet, the band delivers anthems for the misfits, the dancers, and the late-night wanderers. Mira Knox commands the bass like it’s a weapon of seduction, while Ash Renner turns every drumbeat into a warning shot.

Their breakout single “She Owns the Floor” is not just a song—it’s a defiant war cry for anyone who’s ever reclaimed the night. Exclusive to Filodyo, the track pulses with swagger and sweat, a raw tribute to the power of movement, presence, and fearless self-expression.

Broken Halos Club isn’t chasing charts—they’re chasing ghosts, echoes, and the kind of truth that only comes after midnight. Loud, unapologetic, and strangely beautiful, they’re less a band and more a beautifully damaged memory you can’t shake.

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Meet Zayn Rix, the infectiously happy dance artist you've been waiting for. Hailing from the eclectic music scenes of his native city, Zayn embodies vibrant rhythms and can sure make a crowd move!

Bursting onto the scene from the pulsating heart of Manhattan, Zayn brings to mind the twinkling city lights and the unmistakable rush of midnight subway rides. His music is the sort of infectious dance-pop that makes you daydream of cloudless summer days and impromptu dance-offs at house parties. With clever lines and a touch of humor, he's like a Tommy Hilfiger cologne ad come to life - stylish, breezy and ceaselessly optimistic.

One whiff of his breakout hit, "Let the Good Times Roll," and you'll know exactly what we mean. Like eating cotton candy on a Ferris wheel, Zayn's music evokes a blissful sense of joy, making it impossible not to smile. He's that charmingly spontaneous friend who convinces you to skip the tedious office lunch for an exciting roller-coaster ride instead. His melodies are as infectious as his personality - a perfect lovechild of infectious beats and sunny vibes.

So here's to the good times, the dance-inducing melodies, and the relentlessly cheerful Zayn Rix. In the dance-pop universe, he's a rising star - serving joy on a catchy beat and reminding us that life is indeed, a party. So let's turn up the volume, get that body moving, and as Zayn would say, let the good times roll!

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Bruno Galvez was born to a working-class Spanish family in Valencia, where the scent of orange blossoms mixed with the sound of distant flamenco was part of everyday life. Raised in a modest apartment above a small tapas bar, Bruno’s earliest memories include the strum of his grandfather’s old guitar and the rhythm of heels tapping against the tiled floor. Music wasn't just tradition — it was identity.

To support himself through school, Bruno played guitar on the streets and metro stations of Madrid, his case open for coins, his eyes always scanning for inspiration. These years shaped both his sound and his soul. The rawness of performing for strangers taught him to listen deeply to people’s silence — and to fill it with something honest. His fingers spoke when words failed, and soon his name became familiar in the underground corners of the city.

He studied Anthropology at the Universidad Autónoma de Madrid, drawn to human stories, rituals, and rhythms — the same themes that echo in his music. By night he was a student of culture; by day, a transmitter of it, blending traditional flamenco with the urgency of the modern world. His academic lens gave new depth to his compositions, adding layers that resonated beyond melody.

Today, Bruno Galvez is no longer just a street performer. He’s a storyteller, a cultural bridge, and a reminder that music — especially flamenco — is not meant to be caged. It is meant to move, to cry, to celebrate, and most importantly, to survive.

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Wade Hollis doesn’t chase the spotlight — he moves through the world like a shadow at dusk, quietly carving songs out of silence and sand. Born somewhere between the border towns of New Mexico and West Texas, he grew up surrounded by static-filled radio, motel ceilings, and the hum of distant freight trains.

His voice is weathered, like desert wood — raw, honest, and unpolished. Every lyric he writes feels like a road he’s driven a hundred times and still doesn’t fully understand. There’s no big team behind him, no hometown hero narrative. Just a guitar, a gravel road, and the ache of never quite belonging.

Hollis doesn’t stream anywhere else. His music lives exclusively on Filodyo and NOT FM, like postcards from a place most people drive past but never stop to feel. If you’ve ever stared out of a car window at 2 a.m. and felt both free and completely lost — you’ve already heard Wade Hollis, whether you knew it or not.

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Eli Varnish spent most of his life drawing straight lines for crooked cities. As an architect, he designed libraries, train stations, and far too many gray, forgettable office buildings. He was always more interested in light than concrete — the way it moved through windows, shifted on floors, or disappeared behind closed doors. But deadlines piled up, and inspiration gave way to invoices. When he retired at 62, he didn’t throw a party. He just handed in his keys, took the long way home, and listened to the silence.

That’s when the music came back.
In his youth, Eli had played piano quietly — always in private, never in public. Now, with no blueprints to chase, he returned to the keys. Slowly. Gently. A few friends joined him — a bassist who used to drive a bus, a trombonist who sold insurance, and a drummer who once taught math. They started meeting weekly above an old bookstore. No gigs, no names. Just music.

Eventually, they found their way into a small jazz bar — dim, warm, and half-forgotten. That’s where Eli plays now. No spotlight, no talk. Just a glass of red wine, a crooked hat, and a piano that creaks in all the right places. The audience doesn’t clap much. They just nod, like they recognize something they forgot they knew.

Eli doesn’t miss architecture. “Buildings are meant to last,” he says, “but songs... songs are meant to leave.” And so he plays — not to impress, but to remember. To trace old lines in the air. To build something no one can own, but everyone can feel.

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Mark Martian is one of the most elusive figures in the music world, and his mysterious persona has left many fans wondering—could he really be from Mars?

Known for using the alias Martian Mark during his collaborations, this enigmatic producer has somehow managed to evade the spotlight completely. No interviews, no photos, no videos—Mark is practically a ghost. Some say it’s part of his brand, while others speculate wildly. Who knows?

Maybe while Elon Musk dreams of building colonies on Mars, Mark’s already here, quietly making beats after hitching a ride from the Red Planet’s first neighborhood.

Despite the secrecy surrounding him, one thing’s clear: Mark’s music speaks volumes. His deep house tracks pulse with interstellar vibes, his pop productions are out-of-this-world catchy, and his funk grooves are, well, otherworldly.

Whether he’s blending cosmic synths with soulful beats or dropping funk-infused rhythms, his style keeps listeners hooked and guessing. You can hear his work across platforms, but his music truly shines on Filodyo, where you might catch the next great Martian anthem—if he doesn’t beam it up first.

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Hailing straight from the heart of Harlem, the notorious quintet, Brick Lords, has been serving up a potent cocktail of old school rap since their genesis.

An assemblage teeming with character, within this unique ensemble, we find Biggie Bricks (real name, Jamal Thompson), the de-facto leader and lyricist; Lil' Grout (born Angel Martinez), the charismatic hype man; Bricksy Ross (truly known as Desmond Jones), the mysterious trap-lord; Mortar Mike (Mike Johnson in the real world), the laid-back beat master, and Cinder "the Block" Parker (dubbed Clara Parker at birth), the feisty and soulful female vocalist who adds a unique twist to the group's sound.

The Brick Lords was born out of a shared love for rhythm, rhymes, and the raw, gritty atmosphere of their native Harlem streets, baptizing themselves Brick Lords because, well, they were originally just some kids slamming beats and rhymes on brick walls. And just as bricks fit one on top of the other, building something substantial, so too did the Brick Lords build something substantial out of their close-knit group dynamic.

Their music, a delightful blend of old school rap with a hint of modern-day flair, is lauded for its authenticity and palpable energy, resonating with audiences worldwide. Notably, their signature song "What's Going On (Clean)" quickly escalated to become an anthem for their generation, showcasing their genuine artistry while divulging the realities of life in Harlem.

Amidst punchy beats, witty lyricism, and a touch of brick-and-mortar realness, the story of the Brick Lords is as engaging as their music. Resolute in their ambitious deliverance of old school rap, these urban poets have cemented themselves into the solid foundation of Harlem's music scene, and dare we say it, they're brickin' amazing!

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Where Parisian glamour meets electro-pop dance diva, you'll find the enchanting artist, Manon Vallois. Traipsing down a yellow brick road of pulsing beats and bold impressions, Vallois' irresistible tunes are the epitome of joy and joie de vivre.

This delightful, quirky Parisienne is the lovechild of the City of Love's rich artistry and throbbing nightlife, a lass always found a hop, skip, and pirouette away from the nearest beat drop. With her signature track, "My Dreaming Life", Vallois provides the escapism we all need from time to time. She takes listeners on a whimsical journey, backed by high-energy rhythms and melodies that would make even the Eiffel Tower shake its steel self, setting hearts aflutter quicker than you can say "Croissant".

Vallois' music is the couture of the dance genre—handcrafted, energetic, and unafraid to be avant-garde. Each beat an homage to Paris, the pulsing rhythm of her home injected into pulsating electro melodies. Yet, no matter how vivacious her bass line or infectious her hook, it's the inherent optimism in her music, the joy she infuses in every track that transforms listeners into undeniably happy dancers—a task only possible by someone as enchanting as Manon Vallois.

Afterall, Vallois is not just a sonic maven, she's essentially happiness personified. The dictionary people are just slackin' by not placing her picture beside the word 'happy' by now. So, if you're feeling downhearted, just press play on a Manon Vallois track and dance like a Parisian; it's the quickest route from gloom to groove central.

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Wade Hollis doesn’t chase the spotlight — he moves through the world like a shadow at dusk, quietly carving songs out of silence and sand. Born somewhere between the border towns of New Mexico and West Texas, he grew up surrounded by static-filled radio, motel ceilings, and the hum of distant freight trains.

His voice is weathered, like desert wood — raw, honest, and unpolished. Every lyric he writes feels like a road he’s driven a hundred times and still doesn’t fully understand. There’s no big team behind him, no hometown hero narrative. Just a guitar, a gravel road, and the ache of never quite belonging.

Hollis doesn’t stream anywhere else. His music lives exclusively on Filodyo and NOT FM, like postcards from a place most people drive past but never stop to feel. If you’ve ever stared out of a car window at 2 a.m. and felt both free and completely lost — you’ve already heard Wade Hollis, whether you knew it or not.

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