Steadfast and straightforward creative conviction has guided Thrice since they emerged in the late '90s with a sound that combined hardcore grit and progressive ambition, establishing themselves as pioneers among their post-hardcore peers. From the underground punk scene to major labels and influential indie labels, with a rich catalog of intense, meaningful, and emotionally driven albums, Thrice is a singular entity that gains more significance with each new release among their fans. Dustin Kensrue (vocals/guitar), Teppei Teranishi (guitar), Eddie Breckenridge (bass), and Riley Breckenridge (drums) consistently evolve in sound and substance. From their earliest releases to the bold exploration over more than 20 years of material, Thrice built a reputation as a band for musicians and songwriters, and a group with consistent integrity willing to take artistic and commercial risks. Palms (2018), their first album for Epitaph, debuted at No. 1 on Billboard’s Indie and Hard Rock charts. And they’ve never lost their connection to their diverse audience, which is best understood beyond the Billboard charts and massive streams, through personal impact and a relationship forged through years. “It’s always amazing when people say the music got them through something difficult, or became the soundtrack to pivotal moment in their lives,” notes Kensrue. The double-decade anniversaries of The Illusion of Safety (2002) and The Artist in the Ambulance (2003) inevitably fed the energy and creative self-assurance that resulted in Horizons/West. Horizons/West, their 2025 full-length studio album, arrives as a companion to 2021’s Horizons/East. It continues the themes and sonic ambitions of its predecessor while standing entirely on its own. The album finds Thrice further exploring and incorporating immersive atmospheres, cinematic guitar tones, and expansive dynamics without sacrificing the sense of urgency that propelled their classics. Songs build and bloom like flickering signals in the dark—equal parts introspection and confrontation. In 2025, Thrice reaffirms its legacy while continuing to push forward. “We’ve always just followed our curiosity, wherever it leads,” Kensrue says. “We want to keep growing, exploring, and making something that feels honest to who we are right now.”
late night drive home have never known a world without internet — without access to the endless stream of joy, sorrow, and titillation that we all tune in and tune out to on the daily. In many ways, the guys can’t extricate themselves from that reality, but they’re trying to grapple with it. The culmination of that, then, is the buoyant yet ominous as I watch my life online, the band’s debut album on Epitaph. “The record is a critique and a meta representation of the current online landscape: a whole new world or giant united country that connects us between cities, forcing us to be online. Instant gratification is at our fingertips — likes, follows, and entertainment a click away,” says guitarist Juan “Ockz” Vargas. “It shows the listener how we grew up in the early days of peak internet — how we saw it all unfold. We want to give our perspective on the internet while creating art alongside it.” late night drive home was born in El Paso, Texas, and Chaparral, New Mexico, hardworking communities where the collars were mostly blue — a quality that the band would bring to their music as self-taught craftsmen. Comprising guitarist Juan “Ockz” Vargas, singer Andre Portillo, drummer Brian Dolan, and bassist Freddy Baca, the entirely self-taught quartet released their first EP as a full band, 2021’s Am I sinking or Am I swimming?, and blew up with the single “Stress Relief,” a blast of early-Aughts indie that racked in tens of millions of streams. Their first pull compilation of songs, How Are We Feeling? dropped in 2022, and after signing with Epitaph in 2023 — and releasing 2024’s grunge-inspired EP I'll remember you for the same feeling you gave me as i slept — they found themselves playing stages their indie idols previously shredded: Coachella, Shaky Knees, Austin City Limits, and Kilby Block Party. Since the end of the pandemic, though, the band has been dreaming up as I watch my life online. “Sonically the record is expertly produced — it was the first work we put out that was recorded in professional studios and not our bedrooms,” Vargas says about working with producer Sonny Diperri. “Topically, the album is about the internet. As a Gen-Z band, we want to give an accurate representation of how it feels to be always online. Our generation is forced to care so much about its online identity, it’s like ‘your profile is as important as your outfit.’” The resulting suite of tracks is a series of online vignettes that hammers home the band’s message: the photos on your phone shouldn’t be your identity; your posts aren’t your inner monologue.