When it comes to making music, inspiration can strike in the most unexpected places—sometimes even in the backseat of a stolen car or the dusty corners of a family attic. For two British singer-songwriters, Raye and Dan Astles, the journeys to their latest albums have been anything but ordinary, shaped by loss, resilience, and the rediscovery of treasured mementos that nearly slipped away forever.
Raye, the genre-blending powerhouse from south London, has been riding a wave of acclaim since her debut album My 21st Century Blues swept the Brit Awards in 2024, claiming six of the seven prizes for which she was nominated. Yet, as fans eagerly awaited her sophomore effort, an unexpected twist threatened to derail her creative process. On her birthday last year, Raye’s car was stolen—a blow made all the more devastating because it contained her irreplaceable songwriting books. The loss was so profound that she took to Instagram, sharing a snapshot of a birthday cake with the bittersweet words “sorry ur car got stolen” piped across the top, and confided to fans that plans for a second album would be put on hold. According to BBC, she told followers there would be “no second album any time soon.”
But fate, it seems, had other plans. In a recent interview with Capital Radio’s Will Manning, Raye revealed the remarkable news that the police had tracked down her missing car—and, astonishingly, everything inside it was untouched. “So it was a rollercoaster journey, but what I didn’t tell everyone is that the police called me, maybe like two, three months ago, and they were like, ‘we found your car’,” she explained. “And I got it back, and not only did I get it back, not one thing had been taken out of the car and all my songwriting books were there untouched.”
This stroke of luck has breathed new life into her upcoming, as-yet-unnamed follow-up album, which was officially announced last month. The rediscovered material is now set to feature on the record, slated for release in the first half of 2026, with a tour—cheekily titled This Tour May Contain New Music—kicking off in January and arriving in the UK in February. In the meantime, Raye has kept fans engaged with a fresh pop-funk single, “Where Is My Husband?”, which she debuted during a high-energy NFL halftime show at Tottenham Hotspur Stadium earlier this month.
Despite the setbacks, Raye’s ambitions remain undimmed. Speaking to the BBC’s Mark Savage last month, she outlined her five-year plan: “I’ll put out an album in the first half of next year—although I need to finish it first—then I’ll tour with my sisters. Ideally, around that time, it would be nice to meet my husband. So like, maybe 2027? Then we get married and have a baby.” She added, with characteristic candor, “And I want to do enough groundwork in the next two years that I can take a year off and my career’s not gone down the toilet.”
Raye’s journey to the top has been anything but smooth. After five years with a label that refused to release her debut, she fought for her independence, ultimately walking away with her songs and a new sense of artistic freedom. Her breakout single “Escapism” became a viral sensation, paving the way for collaborations with Joel Corry, David Guetta, Cassö, D-Block Europe, Regard, and others. Her music defies easy categorization, weaving together pop, R&B, soul, jazz, dance, and hip-hop—a versatility that was on full display during her dazzling Glastonbury set this summer.
While Raye’s story is one of lost-and-found creativity, Dan Astles’ debut album is a testament to the enduring power of family ties and the healing potential of music. Now 27 and based in Southport, Astles traces the origins of his first record, Soundtrack For The Twenty One Bus Home, to a serendipitous discovery in his grandparents’ Kirkdale loft when he was just 15. There, hidden among a trove of vinyl records and gig posters, he unearthed a mixtape compiled by his late uncle, Joseph Deans. The label, scrawled in red ink, read simply: “Soundtrack For The Twenty One Bus Home.”
Joseph, who took his own life when Dan was only six months old, was remembered by the family as someone who “lived and breathed music.” Dan, too, had inherited the same passion. “I didn’t find out about the circumstances [of my uncle’s death] until I was much older but I could really see how much it affected everyone in the family,” he told BBC. “The thing everyone would say about him was that he lived and breathed music and I did too.”
The mixtape itself was a revelation: a thoughtfully curated collection featuring songs by Radiohead, The Beatles, Kate Bush, and Abba, interspersed with Jack Kerouac poems and snippets of radio comedy. “As a music-obsessed teenager it blew my mind,” Dan recalled. “It was almost like his own album.” The 21 bus route, which runs from Liverpool city centre to Kirby via Walton and Kirkdale, was the backdrop to Joseph’s late-night journeys, and the tape seemed to capture the spirit of those rides home after gigs and nights out.
Using his grandfather’s tape recorder, Dan played the mixtape and felt an instant connection to the uncle he never truly knew. “I felt like I could develop that connection with him despite not knowing him,” he said. The experience inspired him to write his own songs and, eventually, to craft an album that would serve as both tribute and conversation. The opening track, “Joe, Are You Listening?”, is addressed directly to Joseph, setting the tone for a record that explores themes of family, loss, and the fragility of mental health.
“When someone dies in the way my Uncle Joseph did, the grief sort of echoes,” Dan explained. “So increasing awareness of [mental health] was an important part of it when making this record.” Having studied music at the Liverpool Institute for Performing Arts, Dan poured his heart into the project, hoping that his uncle would have been “a sounding board” for his music. “That’s what I always imagine. Someone I could send any demo I’ve written. I hope he would have liked it and thought it was cool and enjoyed it being named after his tape.”
Both Raye and Dan Astles have emerged from personal trials with renewed creative energy, turning setbacks and sorrow into art that resonates far beyond their own experiences. Their stories are a reminder that music’s greatest power lies not just in melody or lyric, but in its ability to connect us—to our past, to our families, and to each other—even when the odds seem stacked against us.
