H IS FOR HALESTORM

whose grungy, metallic alt-rock have made them a staple for lineups at festivals like Download and a mainstay on playlists of empowering anthems. Welding her guitar like a machine gun in the boss level of a DOOM game, Lzzy Hale is undeniably one of the fi

over, the blazing iridescence and valiant eccentricity that he brings to music at large is timeless.

Fis for Florist, a quadrant of New York indie-rockers quickly soaring up the ranks with their loveably lowkey soundscapes and songwriting that comes straight from the soul. Their 2019 album, Emily Alone, is one of the cutest and most charismatic releases in recent memory – definitely one for long drives and late nights where a mood-setter is needed.

Gis for G.L.O.S.S. (short for Girls Living Outside Society’s Shit), a painfully short-lived hardcore unit whose two years of gruff and gritty musical chaos immediately cemented them in the annals of heavy music history. Devoutly trans-feminist and DIY to their core, the influence that G.L.O.S.S. continues to have on new punks en masse is proof of their unwavering legacy – one listen to their mind-melting EP Trans Day Of Revenge will show you why.

Iis for Indigo Girls, the legendary Georgian folk-rockers set to release their landmark 15th album in 2020. The duo – best friends since primary school – have been outspoken queerrights activists since their breakthrough in the mid ‘80s, which is particularly notable given the folk and country scene’s rigid gatekeeping at the time. They’ve collaborated with everyone from Brandi Carlile to Pink, but it’s their work as a pair that’s most resplendent.Jis for Julien Baker, an emo-folk heartthrob from Tennessee whose two solo albums have garnered her an avalanche of (well-deserved) praise. Though a follow-up to her 2017 album

Turn Out The Lights is hotly anticipated, in 2018 she formed the supergroup Boygenius with fellow queer icons of the modern indie-rock landscape, Lucy Dacus and Phoebe Bridgers. Their eponymous debut EP is simply jaw-dropping.

Kis for Kitchens Of Distinction, a trio of English alt-rock hellions (and early pioneers of shoegaze and post-punk) whose unapologetically sharp themes – like, in addition to their then-controversial overt queerness, reveries of killing ex-PM Margaret Thatcher – made them outcasts to the mid-‘80s mainstream, but heroes of the underground to this very day.

Lis for Laura Pergolizzi, one of pop’s most prodigious virtuosos, having lent her impenetrable songwriting talents to such highranking names as Cher, Rihanna, the Backstreet Boys and Céline Dion (to name just a few). She’s also a breathtaking vocalist and guitarist in her own right, dropping five albums of destructively catchy poprock jams since the early ‘00s.

Mis for Moaning Lisa, the Canberran alt-rock heartthrobs who blew up at the tail end of the 2010s with their loud ’n’ luminescent “Carrie (I Want A Girl)” – a powerful anthem for sapphics everywhere, and a damn good rock tune on its own merit. Keep an eye out for this fiery foursome’s debut LP in the not-too-distant future!

Nis for Nona Hendryx, a genre-bending goddess who, since the turn of the ‘60s, has lent her voice to everything from hard-rock heavyweights to funk classics, with the occasional new-wave banger in-between. Her solo work is littered with hits, though it’s in doo-wop trio Labelle that she made her biggest waves – if you haven’t found yourself jamming to “Lady Marmalade” at least once in your life, you probably grew up either deaf of deathly sheltered.

Ois for Openside, the Kiwi emo-pop troupe that unfortunately called it a day at the start of 2020. They were on the cusp of greatness, too, with their debut EP Push Back positing a powerful new force of sharply produced pop ebullience.

Pis for Placebo, who introduced most of us to the sheer power of androgyny in the ‘90s, with Brian Molko a shapeshifting superstar bending gender just as dextrously as his band did with genre. Records like Sleeping With Ghosts and Loud Like Love are certain to be found on the Spotify accounts of queer teens finding their footing – the band’s coming-of-age pop-rock anthems are designed for high-schooler relatability, and we can certainly vouch that they excel at that.

Qis for Queen, whose larger-than-life hooks and grandiose poignancy virtually invented stadium-rock. Freddie Mercury himself is a timeless queer icon for countless reasons, but it’s his rapturous passion, deft refusal to water down his bravado for mainstream audiences, and inescapable wit that we most admire him for. And, strewn all throughout Queen’s discography, you’ll find some of the most face-meltingly brilliant riffs ever written.

Sis for Sleater-Kinney, our go-to girls for a Sunday night sesh of prickly and punkish ‘90s nostalgia. A couple when the band made their breakthrough, frontwomen Carrie Brownstein and Corin Tucker shred – to this day, no less – with a fiery and frenetic adroitness that’s made them staples of both the punk scene at large and the liner pages of lesbian teens’ schoolbooks around the world.

Tis for Tegan And Sara, the identical twins whose dreamy, downbeat bops have made them a favourite of playlist curators for coffee shops around the globe. They’re perhaps best known for 2007’s The Con, which stands today not only as their best album, but one of the best indie-rock albums of all time.

Uis for Uh Huh Her, a soul-tickling synthpop outfit with three of the genre’s most riveting albums to their name. Currently on hiatus, the LA troupe have a wealth of gems downright perfect for the dancefloor, and an archive of live footage so fantastic that we’re counting down the very seconds until they make their return to the stage (with some Australian shows, maybe? Please?)

Vis for Villagers, the Irish indie-folk project of singer-songwriter Conor O’Brien, who, alongside his four inimitably talented bandmates, churns out albums so intensely enthralling that it’s impossible to listen to just one track without letting the rest of them unfurl after.

Wis for Worriers, who are bonafide punks at their core, but deal in what they fittingly describe as ‘ survival pop’. Breakout hit “They/Them/Theirs” became a defacto non-binary anthem upon its 2015 release, but the entirety of three-LP discography is jammed to the brim with massively relatable hooks designed to get fists pumping in the pit.

Xis for The XX, who churn out some of the most infectious indie-pop this side of the River Thames. There’s a dreamy, highschool-crush-esque intimacy that drenches their discography at large, axewoman and singer Romy Croft driving the force with melodies that leap for the heart and sink deep into the soul. Definitely one for the dancefloor.

Yis for Yungblud, the edgy, no-f***s-given Brit whose bratty incandescence sparked a punkish new wave of rebellion in the pop sphere. He’s a self-confessed 21st century liability, bounding around the shop with a garish, mismatched aesthetic and merciless Yorkshire snarl – but he’s also got a big ol’ hear t to him, much of his work, at its core, touching on deep societal issues and personal humility.