A raw, unraveling dive into disillusionment, enough is never is the latest album by R.U.D.Y — a collage of cracked mirrors, whispered rage, and distorted truth. Across ten blistered tracks, it drags grunge through the ruins of modern life: addiction, violence, performance, and the quiet ache of trying to stay human.

Each song is a different wound — some still open, some barely healing. From the desperate confession of “407” to the apocalyptic cradle of “Chalk Outline of Youth,” the record doesn’t follow a clean arc. It spirals. Hooks unravel mid-line, verses collapse into noise, and solos erupt like panic attacks. This is music that refuses to look away, even when it hurts to see.

Fueled by jagged guitars, bruised vocals, and stripped-down drums, this is no nostalgia act — it’s a fractured reflection of now. Gritty, poetic, and unfiltered, the album doesn’t offer closure. Just questions, scars, and noise.

Play it loud. Or don’t. It’s still bleeding either way.

do re mi

bought and sold

heartstrings

sell me clean

clean

Huemans

Chameleons

you know i love when she speaks for me
not much for talk mostly scream in my sleep
sunny day
rainy day
not much difference still mommy's slave
but she treats me good 
she treats me fine
she treats me bad
but only some of the time
and what we have i will not share
im a greedy girl and i love despair

she gives me hope
hope and a dream
unlocks all the doors
just to close them on me
i love despair

a morning walk in the summer breeze
no lack of heart just a lack of sleeves
tongue is tied like the rest of me
hard to stand got feet for knees
but im doing good
im doing fine
ill take the bad for the peace of mind
fence is up
my collars charged
i miss you all
ill send a card

Despair (Demo)

grace come back already deadass i need you

Skinny Girl Diet are London's foremost riot grrrl duo. Delilah Holliday and Ursula Holliday. Post-punk, glam, garage and all things nice... or something like that. 
Find the full tracklist and related episodes on NTS: https://www.nts.live/shows/skinny-girl-diet/episodes/skinny-girl-diet-15th-july-2025

Holliday Show w/ Skinny Girl Diet 150725

Lyrics:

Fly with me to the other side
I hate my life but I won't suicide 
(2x)

I don't want anyone in my life
And if I sum it up quick 
There's a knife like a prick
Stuck in my bones and I like suicide
But I told you twice that I'll be alright
I don't fuck hoes and I don't want love
She loves my cologne and she knows I'm up
Next in this game but I didn't ever say
That I need the fame, lil bitch get away
From me quick because I'm standing on it
I hate shallow hoes who act like they know
Everything about me, lil bitch and I'm counting
Up all of this money in a county
Jail cell with no one and a bounty
On my head, I rest in peace
When I was young I hated police
I don't give a fuck about keeping the peace

Fly with me to the other side
I hate my life but I won't suicide 
(2x)

I'm Sorry

I work with machines the way some people work with memory—shaping what’s already there, not to control it, but to understand it. The tools I use are made of code, but the intent behind them is completely human.

R.U.D.Y. began as a fictional band. A name I could hide behind. But over time, that fiction became the most honest expression I had. It stopped being a mask and started becoming a mirror—a place to reflect the moments we don’t have words for, the spaces between emotions that feel too raw or too distant to name.

I call what I do synthwrighting. Not because it sounds futuristic, but because it feels accurate. I don’t write songs—I uncover them. I collaborate with algorithms the way a sculptor chips away at stone. Sometimes the machine surprises me. Sometimes it just listens. But what emerges is always shaped by instinct, memory, and feeling.

These songs aren’t performances. They’re echoes. Sonic fragments of questions I don’t always know how to ask. I’m not here to offer answers or compete with noise—I’m here to slow things down enough that something deeper can be heard.

R.U.D.Y. is not a band. It’s not even really a name. It’s a signal. A reminder. Something you’re meant to feel before you understand.

And if you’re still listening, that means you're not done yet.

Duo from Cleveland.
Looking for a drum programmer.,

Prophet of End Times (or POET for short.) is a 35-year-old trans artist living in Los Angeles, California. She endeavors to bring others together through music, poetry, and love.

https://www.nts.live
https://www.instagram.com/nts_radio/

New tracks tagged #GRUNGE