Good morning, and happy Friday! This momentous day marks the launch of Auxtra on the App Store, and the very first edition of Auxtra Weekly. We’ll be coming to your inbox every Friday with curated song recommendations (and sneak peeks for new features in the app).

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— Nicholas Kreitz, Will Thomas

“Joy,” the closing track from Dry Cleaning’s third studio album, “Secret Love,” is a three-minute crash course on the South London post-punk band’s unconventional sound.

Lead singer Florence Shaw’s deadpan, nearly susurrated vocals bounce on the backdrop of a jangly guitar melody, billowing bassline and groovy drum backbeat that renders immobility nearly impossible. Shaw’s lyrics discuss the state of the world she finds herself in– a “horror world” full of destruction– but all hope is not yet lost.

Rather than surrendering to the reign of the toxic “manosphere”, Dry Cleaning dare to imagine a world where kindness, individuality, and most importantly– happiness– are not only encouraged, but vital to one’s existence.

The juxtaposition of Shaw’s spoken-not-quite-sung delivery against the organized chaos of the band’s instrumentation create a memorable closing track that is sure to whet the appetite of any post-punk fanatics.

For fans of: Black Country, New Road; Cate Le Bon; Yard Act

It could be considered short-sighted to pin black midi to one genre, as the band prides themselves on visiting the farthest corners of the musical spectrum, but few groups took the crankwave scene quite like the London-based quartet.

The band’s breakup in 2025 and the recent tragic death of it’s co-founder Matt Kwasniewski-Kelvin has many revisiting black midi’s discography and rediscovering what made the group so special.

Look no further than the band’s debut single, “bmbmbm.”

The song is a vicious descent into frontman Geordie Greep’s crude outlook. His sneering, adenoidal repetition of the song’s primary hook, “she moves with a purpose,” entrances the listener as Morgan Simpson’s snare-heavy, military-adjacent drumming and Cameron Picton’s unyielding bass line evoke false memories of a regimental march toward some unknown doom on the horizon.

A droning air raid siren can be heard in the distance between Kwasniewski-Kelvin’s angular melodies, creating a cramped, apocalyptic atmosphere that grips the listener and refuses to let go. The song crescendoes into utter chaos, with guitar riffs and industrial noise that mimics the death rattle of some ancient machine, before Greep concludes the five-minute skirmish with what would become his signature screeching.

A cathartic, head-banging journey of a song, black midi’s “bmbmbm” is the whistle bullet fodder hear before clambering headlong over the top of their trench.

For fans of: Squid; Tropical Fuck Storm; King Crimson; Slint

The South-African band Champion Trees recently relocated to London amid the release of their second album, “A Duck’s Water Off My Back,” but first time listeners would be forgiven for assuming the Cape Town ensemble were seasoned Brixton Windmill alums.

Borrowing the traits that made the early 2020s British indie scene so charming– the intimate, awkward lyrics that observe the lives of young adults navigating an ever-changing, often pessimistic landscape; the deceivingly vast orchestration of violins, pianos, and saxophones; and the flow of a story that fragilely describes the beauty in the mundane– Champion Trees are the newest disciple in a long lineage of art rockers whose vulnerability, authenticity and sheer musical prowess have taken the London scene by storm.

For fans of: Black Country, New Road; Fat, Evil Children; The Orchestra (For Now)

From irregular time signatures, angular guitar riffs and cynical lyrics, explore the genre whose revival defined the early 2020s indie scene.