If you're looking for some cool new bands to get obsessed with, you're in luck. It's time for an autumnal tradition: Stereogum's list of the year's 40 Best New Artists. We've been publishing this list in the fall since 2010. It is not a year-end list. It's its own thing! And, as always, it's presented alphabetically and not ranked. The definition of "new" here is flexible, but the idea is to showcase young and developing musicians who've made a major leap in the 12 months since last year's list. With a couple of exceptions who seemed to come out of nowhere, the spotlighted acts are on their first LP or haven't put one out yet. All of them have us eager to hear what's next. Meet our class of 2026, and find an accompanying playlist at the bottom of the article. —Chris DeVille
We can only speculate that 16 Underground are at least partially named after the Sneaker Pimps' 1996 single "6 Underground," one of trip-hop's few big crossover pop moments. 16 Underground's members are rooted in the Southern California hardcore underground, and they still play hardcore shows, but their sound is a gentle, dreamy, evocative take on the shimmery electronic pop sounds of the '90s. In 30 years, maybe someone will name a band after one of their songs. —Tom Breihan
“My fans say I gain more power the pinker my hair gets,” Adéla recently revealed. This year, her hair got pinker. Since dropping her debut album Prima, the Slovakian pop star has been hard to miss, between her ode to AMC queen Nicole Kidman and the Bangerz-era banger “Ain’t In LA.” The 22-year-old moved to the States to study dance before being swooped up as a contestant on the K-pop reality show that birthed KATSEYE. Rather than folding into the machinery of a girl group, she carved out a world of her own, quickly becoming an unmistakable fixture in pop culture. Adéla isn’t here to blend in — she’s here to turn heads. —Margaret Farrell
Angine de Poitrine wear elaborate papier-mâché masks and polka-dot costumes, play polyrhythmic microtonal math-rock with a custom double-necked guitar, call themselves Khn and Klek, and claim to be 333-year-old time-traveling space aliens. They are, in other words, a lot. What could easily teeter into empty gimmickry works because the viral Québécois duo has the chops and the songs to back it up, somehow spinning what should be niche music-dork wankery into genuine crowd-pleasing jams. —Peter Helman
When two bands break up, another is born. That’s essentially how Leeds-based quartet Bathing Suits came together, bonding over a shared love of Gilla Band and Psychotic Monks after catching the two play in Sheffield. This year, the combustible dance-noise group has released their EP KILL Bathing Suits and teamed up with Mandy, Indiana’s Valentine Caulfield, further fueling their penchant for noisy, high-voltage collisions. It's music perfect for a sweaty warehouse gig or a nervous breakdown, possibly both at the same time. —Margaret Farrell
In recent years, the viral rap underground has been built entirely on the brain-fried melodic glitch-trap of Playboi Carti and his many descendents. But that's not Belly Gang Kushington. Instead, the red-bearded Atlanta phenom raps over thunderingly direct beats in a booming groan that recalls '00s heroes like Jeezy and Shawty Lo. He's the kind of guy to land a helicopter in the Magic City parking lot in the video for his hit 21 Savage collab "WTF Goin." We need guys like that. —Tom Breihan
Are you in the market for a really good indie rock band? Billboard Style are that band. Forth Wanderers' Ben Guterl and Victoryland's Dan Howard have been playing music together for over a decade, but their new project is both a level up and a fresh start. "Everything is just fundamental," Howard told Paste of their approach to songwriting. "The point is to take these dumb, basic things and find ways to make them exciting." Their debut Pull Of The Moon does just that, taking the building blocks of indie rock — fuzzy guitars and earworm hooks, vulnerability and catharsis — and making them sound exciting and new. —Peter Helman
On their self-titled debut album for Surf Gang, Miami duo B0YG1RL blur hip-hop, EDM, reggaeton, baile funk, avant-pop, and more in search of the nastiest possible concoctions to blare at max volume. The result: ultra-hard party music that will annoy your neighbors and electrify your next dancefloor blowout. They had the Cobrasnake and Bassvictim at their hometown release event, which feels exactly right. —Chris DeVille
Along with playing in British post-rock music collective caroline, Magdalena Mclean is a member of art-punk outfit the Umlauts with Annabelle Mödlinger. Together, Mclean and Mödlinger bring an array of entrancing sounds to Curbside Lambsear. Their debut EP, Put Rings On All My Fingers To Weigh Down My Hands, feels like a half-hour hypnosis experiment. The atmospheres are absorbing and otherworldly; you have no choice but to be completely submerged in its warmth. —Danielle Chelosky
No one knows much about Dance Fountain, an anonymous electronic producer from the southern coast of England practicing “reformed raver research.” What we do know is that I’m Watching, his recent EP on Hyperdub, is one of this year’s most impressive opening statements. The project’s four tracks conjure pensive, uncanny sensations via field recordings and metallic synths, like Burial trading the drizzly city lights for florid rural eccojams. —Chris DeVille
ear generated quite the buzz last year when they self-released their debut album The Most Dear And The Future. This year, the New York indietronica duo signed to the promising A24 label and unleashed Rumspringa, expanding on its cryptic, collage-like sound. Even when the songs are steeped in mystery, they’re still earworms; together, Jonah Paz and Yaelle Avtan know how to give private, secret moments a feeling of enormity. —Danielle Chelosky
I trust SZA. Earlier this year, the SOS singer co-signed Chicago artist earthsignchels, who’s had a meteoric year off the back of two viral singles, “Daddy Died” and “Already Won,” and recently signed to Columbia Records. Her performances balance theatrical nuance with an instinct for plunging into emotional depths. She has a killer voice, executing lyrical acrobatics that recall Missy Elliott and Busta Rhymes. But there’s more to her than technical dexterity: she seems to have an instinct for the unexpected, shifting between humor, volatility, and vulnerability. —Margaret Farrell
Ebbb's original pitch was "Brian Wilson meets Death Grips." Although that's a glib and reductive logline, it should give you a sense of the contrasts that Ebbb operate within. The Ninja Tune-signed trio emerged from the Brixton Windmill scene that birthed bands like Black Midi, Squid, and Black Country, New Road, but they don't really sound like any of those bands. Instead, they fashion singer Will Rowland's immaculate Panda Bear-esque vocal harmonies, producer Lev Ceylan's shapeshifting synthscapes, and drummer Scott MacDonald's clattering rhythms into something strange, surprising, and all their own. —Peter Helman
For those who think art is getting too serious, too emotional, and too earnest, the Femcels are here. Rowan Miles and Gabriella Turton make electro-pop for the side quest where you ruin your own life and look hot doing it. The two connected in February 2024 after an impromptu sleepover and the discovery that they’d dated the same boys. It’s music made with the irreverence of five vodka sodas and the newly single nihilism that sets in about four months post-breakup. Their debut album, I Have To Get Hotter, produced by Bassvictim’s Ike Clateman, is a strange concoction: part warped indie revival of the 2000s, part bratty conversationalism, with a healthy undercurrent of emo shit-stirring. —Margaret Farrell
It's hard to imagine a more evocative internet-slacker band name than FFO: Chillin, though the New Hampshire group's music is nowhere near as relaxed as their moniker might suggest. The band specializes in fuzzed-out hook-machine emo/power-pop anthems, sometimes with hardcore breakdowns. But even with their focus on speed and melody, FFO: Chillin come off as desperate but charismatic fuckup townies, the type of guys who might become your new best friends over one dive bar night. —Tom Breihan
Imagine an alternate-reality Southern RXK Nephew who might actually get famous. That's Fox BD, twin brother of ascendant West Memphis rap star YTB Fatt who has more than enough of his own personality to stand out. Fox raps in a loud, excitable, larger-than-life yammer that reminds me of peak Detroit scam-rap. He fires off chaotic and bleakly funny punchlines over blown-out beats, sounding like he can't even imagine what it's like to give a fuck. —Tom Breihan
Michelle Buzz and Lance Shipp are two veteran pop-industry songwriters with credits for big names like Katy Perry, Britney Spears, Kylie Minogue, and Calvin Harris. Stepping out on their own as the maximalist pop duo Haute & Freddy, they're indulging their wildest impulses and letting their freak flag fly. Their debut album Big Disgrace is a blast, marrying classic synth-pop songcraft to high-drama Baroque aesthetics and imbuing it with a jolt of proudly over-the-top theater kid energy that never wears out its welcome. —Peter Helman
Heath Michael Thomas, the 23-year-old Missouri TikTokker who records as Heathers, had the audacity to name his debut album Awesome. Call him the Babe Ruth of 21st century rock 'n' roll because it really is. Thomas plays air-guitar-worthy classic rock with reckless abandon, cramming his songs with smoking riffs and untamed howls that, as many have noted, often resemble 3D Country-era Cameron Winter. If Geese's success is going to lead to major labels loading up on bands like this, that's pretty awesome too. —Chris DeVille
Western Mass mosh warriors Holder switched lead vocalists after the release of their hugely promising 2024 self-titled debut EP, and they've really hit another level with new leader Brie Percy. Holder's pummeling urgency makes the desperate grandeur of early-'00s metalcore feel new, while Percy snarls with frantic, charismatic conviction. Their newer songs have the power to make you feel like you're in an epic battle against winged demons even if you're just folding laundry with headphones on. –Tom Breihan
The best shoegaze has fuzzy guitars shredding into oblivion, creating a wall of sound that almost feels tactile. Just Penelope achieve this effect with their debut EP Great Lake, whose four songs all reach cathartic heights. Just when you think they can’t get any louder, they up the ante. Sparkly synths and Ella Curiel’s soft vocals are woven into the rough riffs, making the songs as dreamy as they are chaotic. —Danielle Chelosky
Doom-laden folk-rock steeped in traditional Irish music is suddenly a burgeoning field, but Madra Salach stand out. On this year’s It’s A Hell Of An Age EP and next year’s debut album Gorta, the Dublin combo sounds like Lankum channeling their inner Fontaines, or perhaps the Pogues if they let their pal Nick Cave produce. Coming from young bucks, songs that feel this ancient and severe are all the more startling. —Chris DeVille
Few album openers are as effective as Mallory Hawk’s "The Mirror." The Philly singer-songwriter begins by meandering quietly, tricking the listener before catapulting into catchy, invigorating mayhem. From there, the LP flows seamlessly through different sounds and atmospheres — alt-rock, dance-punk, indie-folk, country-rock, synth-pop, and everything in between — but never stops being infectious. There’s always a hook to grab onto and a strong emotion to be felt. Chinook is an adventure of an album. —Danielle Chelosky
Self-described “angry weeping chaos rock trio” Mary In The Junkyard create a haunting, riveting universe with debut album Role Model Hermit, weaving mathy guitars and cinematic violins into grungy atmospheres while vocalist Clari Freeman-Taylor ricochets between eerie spoken-word and raspy yawls. The UK art-punks' brilliance shines through especially on the funereal revelation “Crash Landing” and the confessional, sparse ballad “Candelabra.” —Danielle Chelosky
Years after the dissolution of Black Midi, the London band’s former bassist Cameron Picton made an expansive return to the scene with My New Band Believe. Not only is the self-titled album a lush, sprawling journey of dizzying jazzy rushes and surreal lyrics, the project itself aims to be its own kind of ever-changing odyssey, taking cues from King Crimson, where each album caters to “newness and regeneration.” Bringing together an eclectic cast of 22 musicians, including several members of experimental group caroline, the record is as much a celebration of collective creativity as it is a vehicle for Picton’s songwriting. —Margaret Farrell
Just when you think you can pin down Opal Mag’s sound, she switches it up. The UK artist often receives Mazzy Star comparisons, but depending on her mood, she can channel the raucous alt-rock of Smashing Pumpkins or the nostalgic jangle-pop of the Sundays. Then, on her debut EP, Goodbye Lavender, she brought in some poignant pedal steel. She does whatever she wants — and it sounds fantastic. —Danielle Chelosky
It's hard to believe that PISS are capable of doing what they do every night on tour. Taylor Zantigh, vocalist for the Vancouver noise-rock band, turns every performance into an all-out exorcism about the all-consuming impact of sexual violence. Each show is an astonishingly powerful immersion in the worst of humanity, set to a cathartic clangor that can't possibly be as punishing as what she says. It takes impossible levels of bravery to perform like that once. Zantigh does it over and over again. —Tom Breihan
Like many young indie rock bands today, Pushbike are smitten with the pre-internet era. The Exeter trio’s bracing Little Bastard EP bursts forth like a sealed-off time capsule containing emo, grunge, and indie-pop records from the '80s and '90s that suddenly exploded due to barometric pressure. It’s scraggly, catchy guitar music with heart, anthemic but never at the expense of grit. —Chris DeVille
The members of RIP Magic are visual artists who pride themselves on their unlearned approach to music, but 1,2,3 is the work of musicians who’ve picked up a few lessons from the greats. The woozy, beat-driven collage “Screwdark” is a reminder of a time when Beck was the coolest man in music, while “Light Over There” is trip-hop nonpareil and “Crestfall” is the second coming of the xx. This crew may not have known what they were doing, but following their vibes has led them somewhere spectacular. —Chris DeVille
Brooklyn’s Sex Week make enrapturing art-rock that reached a new peak on this year’s “Life Is A Circle.” Over the past two years, the duo has shared a pair of EPs that flexed their dreamy atmospheres, and now a debut album is finally on the way. “Life Is A Circle” is an existential journey adorned with fiddles, harmonicas, accordions, 808s, and casually cosmic lyrics about existence itself. Sex Week are only getting better. —Danielle Chelosky
Massachusetts mosh monsters Sin Against Sin seemingly came into the game with the express intent of making the most reckless and irresponsible metallic hardcore on the face of the earth. Their death-grunt lurch careens haphazardly from one breakdown to the next, while their two singers growl in stereo — one voice piercingly high, the other one pulverizingly low. When they take the stage, you need to stay alert or else risk death by spinning backfist. —Tom Breihan
There’s a lot to love about So Faint: Lyn Heinemann and Hannah Georgas’ heavenly harmonies, their clever lyrics, their consistently infectious melodies. Even when the two Vancouver musicians lament frustrations and resentments, a feeling of hope prevails, draping the whole album in light. When they sing of doomed love on the addictive “Chain Chain Chain,” it sounds like a celebration. —Danielle Chelosky
Sophia Stel does it all but never does too much. The electro-pop auteur's self-produced tracks are immaculately airy and minimal, and her lyrics follow suit. Sometimes she finds one perfect line and latches onto it: “Bitches talk shit they don’t know shit about.” Other times she fits a short story into a single bar: “They just don't wear that shit where I'm from/ Your money's loud and annoying/ Like chewing gum.” In every instance, Stel graces her faded neon beats with an impossible mixture of nonchalance and caring too much. It’s like being visited by Brat in a dream. —Chris DeVille
Remember Total Control? Total Control ruled. Well, their frontman Daniel Stewart has a new band, and they rule too. Station Model Violence are something of a supergroup, actually, also counting alumni of other Australian underground acts like Den, Slug Guts, and R.M.F.C. amongst its members. The songs on their self-titled LP are precisely crafted perpetual motion machines, full of kinetic post-punk propelled ceaselessly forward by motorik grooves and buoyed up by 12-string jangle and streaks of saxophone. —Peter Helman
Jacksonville hardcore fundamentalists Step 2 This pull from '00s bands like the Rival Mob, who pulled from '90s bands like Ten Yard Fight, who pulled from '80s bands like Youth Of Today. By rights, Step 2 This should sound like a copy of a copy, but they play with enough conviction, attitude, and energy to remind you why entire generations have been drawn to that fast, rigid sound. The joys of the pile-on singalong anthem are eternal. —Tom Breihan
Swapmeet capture the entire spectrum of young adulthood's big feelings on their standout debut Mount Zero. The Adelaide quartet has been playing together since high school, and they trade off songwriting duties, lead vocals, and even instruments over the course of the album, demonstrating the kind of easy chemistry that can't be faked. As indebted to Alex G as classic '90s touchstones like Pavement and Sonic Youth, every shimmer of melody and burst of noise feels exquisitely alive. —Peter Helman
Touch Girl Apple Blossom borrowed their name from Beat Happening's 1988 classic "Indian Summer," and they signed to Calvin Johnson's K Records' Perennial imprint for the release of their debut album Graceful. But make no mistake, this Austin quartet aren’t just twee revivalists coasting on pure nostalgia. They play their winningly jangly indie-pop with a bashed-out punk-rock urgency, tempering the sighing sweetness with a scrappy contemporary edge. —Peter Helman
Trip-hop is back, baby! The dream of the '90s is alive for trickpony, an international trio cranking out sensual downtempo jams like they never went out of style. Perth producers Mike Midnight and Roza Terenzi and Helsinki singer Maria Korkeila's particular blend of nocturnal electronics, shuffling beats, and hypnotically whispered vocals collapses the difference between the bedroom and the dancefloor and makes both sound just as inviting. When you're pulling it off this well, one trick is plenty. —Peter Helman
We owe so many beautiful things to accidents — chocolate chip cookies, penicillin, Play-Doh, the microwave oven, and Trusselina. The last of those is the eccentric musical duo of Mikaela Oppenheimer and Hayden McGarvey, who bring together field recordings, coding-influenced melodies, and intricately layered production. McGarvey stumbled upon the sound he wanted to pursue when he played one of his recordings, “Rev,” backwards. Their debut EP The Point’s A Truss, My Trusselina is a scintillating patchwork of glitchy indie rock that takes unexpected detours from spoken word to Auto-Tuned yodeling. —Margaret Farrell
Young LA alt-rockers untitled (halo) might have a deeply pretentious name, but that didn't hold them back. In head-spinning time, they jumped from the Bandcamp shoegaze underground to the 1975-aligned label Dirty Hit. Their sound is broad but idiosyncratic enough to encompass glitchy bedroom pop, blustery SoundCloud rap, free-floating splintered indie rock, among who knows what else. Their jaggedly beautiful digital blur of a self-titled debut radiates confidence in its experimentation, and it more than makes up for the name. —Tom Breihan
My Heart Is A Room With No Cameras In It earned Victoryland a deal with indie kingmaker Dead Oceans, and it’s easy to see what the label found so impressive. With assists from producer Dan Howard, Julian McCamman warbles and wails his way across new wave/indie-pop history, delivering sophisticated, emotionally charged rock songs that would make sense on ’80s college radio playlists alongside the Cure or in MP3 blog zip files alongside Clap Your Hands Say Yeah. (They sound great in the 2020s, too.) —Chris DeVille
Worldpeace DMT began as the solo project of London musician Leo Fincham, but didn’t take full form until he connected with Roman Miles aka Rowan Please, one half of the rising duo the Femcels, who also feature on this list. Since dropping last year’s The Velvet Underground & Rowan, a project Fincham aspired to sound like "the 60s filtered through a calculator," the pair has been on a prolific roll, most recently releasing Stick Around For Tea last month. Together, they’re expanding a sonic world as theatrical as a kindergarten play, as dynamic as a Bop It!, and as limitless as a bottomless Victorian-style carpet bag. —Margaret Farrell
Stream songs from the 40 Best New Artists Of 2026 in the Spotify and Apple Music playlists below.
