February 2026
January has left us carrying all the subtlety of a blown amp. 2026 has opened with unrest, uncertainty, and no shortage of grim headlines — from Minneapolis to Iran and plenty of places in between. At Rock the Joint Magazine, we’ve tried to do what we can where it matters, raising our voices in support of the Iranian people and reminding ourselves that silence is rarely neutral. Still, there’s a point where the noise of the world becomes overwhelming and we struggle with the fact that we are a musical magazine not a political one – also we are Christians. Historically, this is where music steps in — not to distract, but to carry us. As ABBA once asked, with suspicious philosophical depth for a band in glittery jumpsuits, “Without a song or a dance what are we?” Fair question.
So the real issue becomes: who’s going to soundtrack 2026? Who’s going to remind us that guitars, sweat, and a decent chorus still matter? One name I genuinely didn’t expect to be writing this month is The Marmozets. Cast your mind back to “Knowing What You Know Now” — released on 26 January 2018 — a record that felt sharp, restless, and brimming with promise. I remember telling anyone who’d listen that they were one to watch. And then… nothing. Vanished. Life happened. Becky McIntyre got married, had a child, and the band slipped quietly into what felt like permanent hiatus territory.
Which is why the news of a new Marmozets album — after an eight-year void — landed with real surprise. Not nostalgia, not a legacy victory lap, but a genuine return. Whether this comeback ignites something bigger or simply reminds us of what we missed remains to be seen. But it’s a timely reminder that music doesn’t operate on our schedules, and sometimes the bands we’ve written off are just getting ready to speak again. If 2026 needs anything right now, it’s that kind of reminder — that even after long silences, the noise can come back louder, sharper, and more necessary than ever.
By Benny (the ball) Benson
January 2026
Welcome to 2026 from all of us at Rock the Joint Magazine. New year, fresh noise, the same loud table — and you’re always welcome at it.
My first editorial of the year was sparked by the reaction to our review of the new Peter Criss album (here). A recurring response was that Peter’s team were right to prioritize physical sales first — “make the money now, maybe stream it later.” Respectfully, we disagree.
Streaming isn’t the enemy of physical formats. It’s the gateway.
People don’t only stream because they’re cheap; they stream because that’s how discovery, familiarity, and emotional attachment works in 2025. Streaming is where albums earn trust. Vinyl is where commitment happens.
Legacy artists often default to the argument that “streaming pays nothing.” That might be true in isolation, but strategically it misses the point. Streaming lets listeners live with a record — repeat it, absorb it, decide whether it deserves space on the shelf before dropping £25–£40 on vinyl, or around £15- for a CD. That’s not devaluing music; that’s how value is built.
I don’t buy vinyl out of nostalgia — I buy it because I liked the albums. In the past year alone, I’ve picked up records from Sabrina Carpenter, Miley Cyrus, Morganway, First Time Flyers, Adam and the Ants, Yungblud, The Warning, and The Beatles. That’s taste-led buying — not age-led, format-led, or nostalgia-led.
Where artists sometimes miscalculate is assuming, “Our fans already know us.”
Fans know you. They don’t know the new record yet. Albums need time in people’s ears before they earn a place on the turntable. Streaming does the heavy lifting; vinyl becomes the keepsake.
When Peter Criss’ team blocked streaming, they didn’t protect value — they removed the audition. And without an audition, only the already-committed show up. That isn’t a growing fanbase; it’s a shrinking circle.
I also want to briefly address the criticism aimed at Vinnie Vincent for charging $250 for a physical single. It made good clickbait — and he’s often an easy target online — but context matters. The single was limited to 1,000 copies, each signed by the artist. In that light, the price feels defensible. Not for everyone, but not outrageous either.
Finally, the rumors’ surrounding Peter Criss and a supposed $1,000 charge to stream his new album didn’t appear out of thin air. For a short time, the album did surface on Bandcamp with an eye-watering digital price attached, seemingly to discourage downloads rather than invite them. The listing was quickly removed, and Peter himself has since distanced himself from that decision. Still, the damage was done. In an age where screenshots travel faster than clarifications, perception becomes reality — especially when access is restricted and communication is unclear.
And that’s really the wider issue here. Barriers — whether intentional or accidental — don’t protect music. They confuse listeners, shrink audiences, and hand control of the narrative to speculation. If 2026 is going to be about anything, let’s hope it’s about trust: trusting fans to discover, to listen, and to decide what matters enough to buy, collect, and keep.
Here’s to a year of great records, loud opinions, fewer barricades, and music that earns its place — first in your headphones, then on your shelf. And my first video of 2026 is from one of by favorite new bands of 2025, First Time Flyers, one to watch in 2026 for sure.
Happy New Year.
— Rock the Joint Magazine
By Mark C. Chambers