New year. New noise. Hype is back on the hunt, digging through the chaos, the chatter and the late-night tip-offs to find the acts who aren’t just next up, but about to detonate.

Dork’s Hype List is our annual spotlight on the artists who’ve started to really stand out - not because they’re destined for instant superstardom, but because there’s something in what they’re doing that feels fresh, deliberate and worth keeping close tabs on.

It isn’t about calling winners or demanding overnight breakthroughs. Consider it a guide to the acts shaping the edges of what’s next: the ones we’re excited about, curious about, and confident enough to back as they take their next steps.

Man/Woman/Chainsaw feel like they were born from an in-joke that spiralled into a lifestyle. The band - Lola, Clio, Emmie, Vera, and two whole Billys (Ward and Doyle, FYI) - move with the energy of a group who long ago decided the best way to survive is to lean fully into the ridiculous. Their year hasn’t unfolded so much as exploded in every direction at once.

Ward remembers one of the big moments with a kind of blunt joy: “Going to America and doing KEXP was amazing. So many bands we grew up loving have had sessions there, so it felt cool to do one of our own. Seeing the lightbulbs in real life was lit.”

Clio’s highlight could only ever belong to M/W/C. “We just played Paradiso in Amsterdam on Halloween,” she says. “We were all Batman and our stage presence has never been stronger.” The fact she delivers that with total seriousness only makes it funnier.

Not every milestone has been glamorous. Doyle sums up one of his biggest personal shifts in six words: “Getting over my fear of flying.” The band have been everywhere, fast - and fear does not get to come along unchanged.

When talk shifts to new music, their answers scatter pleasantly across the spectrum. Emmie frames the summer sessions like a spiritual retreat (“We’re working on a load of new material which will help lift the mind and cleanse the soul”), Clio sees it as a different kind of passion (“It’s very romantic!”), while Vera swerves gleefully into chaos (“I’ve been enjoying prioritising our Breaking Bad musical”).

Their approach to influence rejects any idea of pretence. When asked for the weirdest inspiration behind their work, Clio gives the most concise answer imaginable: “Ginger shots.” Asked again, from another angle, Vera lands in exactly the same place: “Ginger shots.” It reads like a joke, but it also tracks: fast burn, fast impact, wakes the system up.

Their hopes for 2026 are delivered like a shared vision board scribbled during a sugar high. The band want “Bluetooth violin, get into vaping, a cappella sets, autotuned hi-hats, 10-foot drum riser, Geometry Dash DJ set, crowd kiss cam, seizing the day.” The list isn’t aspirational so much as prophetic; it’s exactly the kind of ambition that makes perfect sense for them.

Then, the humour drops away. Doyle names the industry changes they want with stark clarity: “Destroy all pay-to-play promoters, have streaming services pay artists fairly, and an end to corporate funding of Israel’s genocide in Gaza.” The seriousness isn’t a contradiction; their chaos has principles.

Musically, they’re omnivores. The band rattle off their favourite albums of 2025 like kids listing sweets: “‘Euro Country’ by CMAT, ‘System’ by Prewn, ‘Getting Killed’ by Geese, ‘Addison’ by Addison Rae, ‘Moisturizer’ by Wet Leg, and the new Mark William Lewis album.”

Success, in their world, is gloriously unserious. Ward’s definition: “Solid gold Flying V.” Lola’s prediction for 2026 carries the same deadpan grandeur: “EGOT status.”

As for how to truly understand what they’re doing? Doyle gives the only entry point that makes sense: “Come to a show.” ■

Taken from the December 2025 / January 2026 issue of Dork, out now.