Not getting enough queer music in your audio diet? The following are more suggestions.

Here’s a thought about Nashville-based singer/songwriter Winston Liv and NYC-based singer/songwriter Eliza Edens (both of whom use they/them pronouns). Every song on their new albums, Liv’s exceptional debut “Joan of Snark” (winstonliv.com) and Edens’ latest “Death Drive” (First City Artists) are at the very least as good as anything on Olivia Rodrigo’s highly-regarded 2026 release “You Seem Pretty Sad for a Girl So in Love.” But without major-label machinery behind them, will they get the attention that they deserve?

Liv’s “Joan of Snark” is the kind of first album that only comes around occasionally. The vocals are strong, the production is clean, and the songs are solid and memorable. On many of the cuts, Liv captures the horrors of being queer and an outsider in a school environment. “Valedictorian,” with its “rah-rah siss boom bah” chorus and lines such as “You’re lucky that you’re hot/ ‘Cause sweetheart that is all you’ve got,” rings true from start to finish. The same applies to “Muse,” “Mr. Montague” (which sounds like a long lost Aimee Mann song), “Crash & Burn,” “Like-Like,” and the extraordinary “Werewolf.” “Sugar Baby” and “Origami Crane” are also outstanding.

Eliza Edens, like Winston Liv, has a way with words. Wasting no time getting to the point, Edens sings “I think I wanna dye my hair/Grab the red-eye over to Paris/Kiss a girl that might be married/While I’m givin’ her head,” on album opener “All In Sinnin’,” which is followed by “Hot & Mean,” containing the lines “Said she’d text me but she didn’t care/Now she’s in my dreams/Wearin’ a wet shirt and no underwear.” In the midst of this sexual discovery, Edens, who is still grieving the loss of their mother, addresses that subject on “Old Home Video,” “Hey Mama,” and the title number, “Death Drive.”

Spinning out on bright yellow vinyl, “Woman” (vtorresmusic.com) the second album by newly out singer/songwriter V. Torres is something to behold. “Beginnings,” the aptly titled opening track is an inviting bit of dance rock. Torres rocks harder on the title cut, in which she sings “Put a woman’s work on me/You’re a woman, work on me/Put a woman’s worth on me/Because a woman’s all we’ll be.” Torres slides some subtle funk our way on “Slow” and “That Night,” and reveals a softer side singing “This came out of nowhere/Universe made us a pair/Can’t remember life before/We opened up this door,” on the personal love revelation of “I Know Nothing.”

There is good news for those with somewhat more exotic or experimental musical tastes. New albums by HAAi and Slothrust should easily satisfy those craving unpredictable electronic/techno (the former) and 21st century alt-rock (the latter).

“Digitise” (Mute) by queer Australian electro artist HAAi (aka Teneil Throssell) kicks things off with “Re-Humanise,” co-written by and featuring queer poet Kaiden Ford; a percolating bit of spoken word electronica that doubles as a statement. However, if you insist on working up a sweat and pushing your body’s limits, HAAi delivers an abundance of pummeling dance beats. If you think your feet can keep up with the rhythmic shifting variations, check out “Humanise Radio,” “Technology,” “Talking Walls,” and the title tune. 

HAAi performs at III Points Festival in Miami on October 17.

You know that old adage about not judging a book by its cover? You could probably say something similar about album covers. However, one look at the front image on Slothrust’s “What They Grow In The Garden” (Equal Vision) and you’ll likely have a sense of what’s inside. Led by queer vocalist Leah Wellbaum, the songs on the album alternate between conjuring a feeling of nostalgia for peak ‘90s alternative music (“Ring The Bell,” “Smile,” “Burn The Deck,” “The Lake,” and “00101001”) and reimagining the glory days of the Dresden Dolls’ retro punk cabaret (“Hearst Castle,” “Dystopian Cemetery,” “Absolute Power,” and “What A Night”). All told, it makes for a varied and stimulating listen.