Lars Gotrich

The French electronic duo turns distressed dreams into symphonies plucked from cotton candy clouds. Yet to see Air’s members perform live, everything looks so effortless.

At the Tiny Desk, our small office crowd joins the thousands who have been inside of these power ballads and felt something real.

The hip-hop band reshapes its hypnotic melodies and serrating beats with the aid of MIDI-triggered robots and a desk full of glass bottles, coffee mugs and a pizza box.

At the Tiny Desk, the Brazilian artist presents a searching set of orações that serve as meditations, no matter your spiritual journey.

Yes, the first-ever stage dive at the Tiny Desk occurs during Turnstile’s set, but not before a wild reimagination of the hardcore band’s wide-ranging sound.

The world is doomed, but at least we’ve got the Mekons. The British punk band rumbles through its down-but-not-defeated songs with rowdy defiance.

The duo’s music leans into small moments in order to make the outsized ones seem surmountable.

There’s an invitation in these songs, largely pulled from her 2024 release Lives Outgrown, to bear witness to Gibbons’ own tragedy and transformation.

The band’s mystical approach to improvisation never bends to one sound at a time.

The “tenderpunk” band brings its silly, sophisticated and scrappy songs to the Tiny Desk — along with a confetti cannon.

The trio from Marseille, France taps into a centuries-long tradition of Gnawa music for its Tiny Desk.

At the Tiny Desk, Bartees Strange has got the range, with crunching rock riffs, spitting bars and bringing us to the brink of tears.

The fingerstyle guitarist builds worlds with her music; at the Tiny Desk, Yasmin Williams invites us into hers.