While I always caveat these lists with the usual, “just my favourites, not the best”, it’s probably more true than ever this year, as I’m well aware how much stuff I’ve probably missed. With that said, it’s probably made this year’s listing season all the more important, a real opportunity for me to look back and rediscover some gems that were shining at the bottom of the jewelry box that was 2025’s musical offerings.
My initial attempt at listing off these EPs revealed one very obvious thing: not that many EPs had been on my radar. So compiling my top twenty has been as much a voyage of discovery for me as I hope reading it will be for you. I still love the EP format as it so often captures bands at their most experimental. New bands working out who they are, old favourites trying something different, the beautiful way they hint at something exciting waiting around the corner. So, enjoy, discover, and tell me about the bands you love that I haven’t mentioned. Music blogging is in an interesting phase right now, and I hope, like me, you still think these human conversations we have aren’t just worthwhile but vital to the thrill of discovering something new.
20. Lando Manning – Fragments [Ostara Recordings]
19. Meagre Martin – Up To Snuff [Mansions and Millions]
18. Annie Booth – The Brace [Climbing Olympus]
17. Spielmann – Back By Popular Demand [EMI North / Launchpad]
16. Whitney’s Playland – Long Rehearsal [Dandy Boy / Meritorio]
15. Dana Gavanski – Again Again [Full Time Hobby]
14. Why Horses? – Yeah, Hi? [BWGi BWGAN]
13. Bright Eyes – Kids Table [Dead Oceans]
12. Mildred – Mild [Memorials Of Distinction / Dog Day]
11. Small Shake – Platonics [Self-Released]
10. Joyeria – Graceful Degradation [Speedy Wunderground]
Three years on from his debut EP, FIM, UK-based songwriter Joyeria returned with the six-track Graceful Degradation, a collection he described as, “raw, like a skinned knee. Honest, in the way a chippe teacup holds the stain of too much tea”. A record of Joyeria’s experiences in Poland, Canada, and now London, Graceful Degradation is a record that digs around in the muck and the mire, “searching for meaning in the strange angles and fractured edges of modern existence”. From the opening, Troubled Youth, with its shuffling Baxter Dury-like rhythms and distinctly Bill Callahan-like vocal delivery, this is a record that engulfs the listener in claustrophobic intrigue, as he just about holds onto faith in lottery wins and settled debts in the face of a world that seems to offer him no other chink of light. Elsewhere, the single I don’t know, who cares? is a knowing shrug at society’s expectations for us to smile and say we’re fine, while ‘Yeah!’ is a brutal exploration of the live-to-work culture and awful bosses who demand too much. Musically, the tracks here are a varied bunch, from The Swimmer’s squelchy fusion of chiptune and post-punk to the shuffling, haunting Americana of the brilliant closing track Starving Ghosts. Across Graceful Degradation, Joyeria seems to ask us as listeners to see the world through his eyes. The good and bad, the mundane and the thrilling, all examined, prodded, poked, and left for us to draw our own conclusions by a record that never fails to intrigue.
9. Clutter – Loves You [PNKSLM]
Hailing from Stockholm, Clutter are an unfeasibly cool quartet of 20 year old Swedes who are signed to the PNKSLM label and found plenty of admirers in all the right places this year. Back in April, they released the six-track Loves You EP, a record that borrowed from everything 90s, blending grunge, post-hardcore and dreamy shoegaze fuzz into something delightfully their own. The Julie Ruin-inspired opening Geeks sets the tone, a clattering, distorted call to arms that’ll unite nerds of all ages into wanting to form a band with all their best friends. After that, the fast-talking, The Undertones-like thrills of the opening Pretty comes as something of a relief, before the track takes a turn for grungy sludge and your eardrums get a bassy battering once more. It’s not an EP that ever lets up for long, like Brainiac’s bassy drive, almost dubby drum rhythms and vocal fuzz. The only exception is the closing number, Kraut’s sub-three-minutes of Stereolab-like strutting and downbeat vocals that perfectly fit the lyrical sense of feeling uninspired. Probably my favourite moment is Brideshead, the whole thing is delightfully messy, from the squalling feedback of the guitars to the lyrics that reflect on the most dysfunctional of relationships drawing to a close, “I hope that you’re drunk and happy, I wish you the best”. There’s something delightfully raw and honest about the music Clutter are making here; they might well make a better record, but it’s hard to imagine they’ll make one so bristling with the thrilling fizz of potential.
8. Wavepool – Crayola [Self-Released]
Only formed in 2024, Wavepool are a quintet from Rouen in the North of France. With Crayola, perhaps unsurprisingly their debut EP, the band set out to, “tell the story of youth on the run”, via a fusion of slacker rock and hazy shoegaze. The scene is set by the opening track, Blue Moon, a song about rare events that conversely has been present in my head for months. Possibly the record’s poppiest moment, it touches on that feeling of puzzle pieces falling into place, a picture of happiness emerging from the blur, “I can’t wait to be with you again, ’cause I feel like I’ve been wasting time around”. Throughout the EP, Wavepool seem to walk the line between their competing tendencies towards noise and melody, never more obviously than on the fabulous Shell, which starts off luxurious and dreamy, before slowly being engulfed in a cloud of noise, reminiscent of the likes of Duster or Beach House. Tiny Cowboy may be the first track the band ever released, yet it remains arguably their finest moment. It burbles into life before crashing into a wave of Ride-like guitars as the vocals explore themes of loneliness and connection, “please don’t tell me you don’t believe me, ’cause I feel alone”. Like Forth Wanderers or Feeble Little Horse, before them, Wavepool lean into their 90’s shoegaze influences, but come out the other side with something that feels both contemporary and exciting. With a fair wind, it’s not hard to see this lot becoming stars.
7. Lisa O’Neill – The Wind Doesn’t Blow This Far Right [Rough Trade]
There’s quite possibly no more distinctive voice in music right now that Lisa O’Neill. The Irish raconteur has been on a meteoric rise in recent years, her 2023 offering, All of This Is Chance, was lauded by everyone from Gideon Coe to The Quietus, and saw her music appear on the somewhat surprising double bill of Later With Jools Holland and Peaky Blinders. This EP, The Wind Doesn’t Blow This Far Right, is something of a collection of musical drifters, songs that have been, “gathering for a while”, and some of which have seen the light of day previously. Thankfully, Lisa’s ability to weave a thread stops this well short of being a compilation of odds and ends. The title track that introduces the collection feels like an instant classic, the guitar notes falling like cascading blossoms atop a wheezing drone of harmonium, as Lisa gently cuts selfish world leaders to shreds, “some terrors are born out of nature, some terrors are born overnight, some terrors are born out of leaders with their eye on a different prize”. Elsewhere, I’m particularly enamoured with the hazy brilliance of the spoken word Autumn 1915, while Lisa’s twitching, uneasy version of All The Tired Horses does far more than just tick off the unwritten law that all folk singers must at some point cover Bob Dylan. A real standout is Homeless In Their Thousands, a surprising collaboration with Peter Doherty, that’s a tender but unflinching critique of the care system, failures of social support, and those who have more than enough but are unwilling to assist those with nothing, “as the rich get richer are they free, they’re just as lost as you and me”. The record might be a somewhat shapeless meander through the mind of its creator, yet when you’ve got a mind as intriguing as Lisa O’Neill, that’s never going to be a bad thing.
6. Vegas Water Taxi – Long Time Caller [PNKSLM]
A second entry from the Stockholm-based PNKSLM label, vegas water taxi are however from somewhat closer to home. The London-based, “slacker-country band”, are the brainchild of Ben Hambro, and back in 2023, found plenty of love for their debut album, things are gonna be alright. The EP was introduced to the world by the single, and opening track, Chateau Photo, a song about losing friends after a breakup, Ben suggested was written, “aiming for Oasis meets Silver Jews”, and thankfully for my tastes, if not his sales figures, it sounds more like the latter. Despite his London home, Vegas Water Taxi seem to be fairly heavily indebted to all things Americana, from the Langkamer-like slacker twang of Birkenstocks to the country shuffle of Jolene, referencing a coffee shop,“one in Finsbury Park, one in Newington Green”, it’s not a Dolly Parton cover, but wouldn’t sound that out of place on one of her albums. If, like me, you’ve fallen for the charms of Long Time Caller, there’s further good news, as it’s set to be packaged up alongside a brand new EP, First Time Listener, in February, suggesting this vegas water taxi has plenty of fuel left in the tank.
5. Pelts – Swimming [Fika Recordings]
Although based in Copenhagen, Pelts’ roots can be traced back to the London DIY scene. The trio of Cat, Louise, and Eilidh had spent time in various projects, including Molar, Fever Dream, and Enids, before coming together in the Danish capital. With a name lifted from the furs of their collective star sign, Aries, Pelts dabble in the scuzzier, more riotous side of indie-pop, as showcased beautifully on this four-track debut offering. Swimming bounds in on the Elastica-like title track and doesn’t let up from there, whether it’s the low-down dirgy fuzz of Don’t Have To Look or the bouncing indie-punk of Waterfall. My personal favourite is the closing Stressed, a strutting slice of DIY-pop that brings to mind the likes of Hairband or The Bug Club as it cuts to the lyrical bone of struggling, “I am stressed about life because I’m alone and it’s a lot”. Playful, creative, and delightfully out of step with any musical zeitgeist, Pelts make music that seems to come from a sheer love of playing together, and ultimately, isn’t that what it’s all meant to be about?
4. Dorothy – Sea Songs [Angel Tapes]
The latest of late arrivals, Dorothy’s Sea Songs was only released earlier this month, but it certainly makes a big impression. The self-styled, “lowkey supergroup”, featuring Jude Woodhead (aka Saint Jude), Francesca Brierley (aka heka), and Marco Pini of GG Skips and Sorry, have performed together and shared stages for years, so Dorothy was just a natural, and somewhat aquatic continuation of old habits. Noticing that the sea was a constant backdrop to the music Francesca and Marco made together, they set about crafting Sea Songs, with Jude joining the songwriting core later when a song she wrote became, “the final piece of the puzzle”. Sea Songs is one of those wonderfully coherent pieces, feeling less like a collection of songs and more like a single suite of ideas tied together by an overarching feeling of aqueous exploration. The whole thing is underpinned by a burbling quality even as its shifts effortlessly between genres. That’s not to say it’s without it’s highlights, take the majestic era-spanning brilliance of 50s Song, quite possibly my single of the year if I awarded such a thing. It’s resplendent with splashy percussion, prominent piano flourishes, and the delightful contrasts of its creator’s vocal talents. Elsewhere, High Tide is the sort of mellifluous melodic wonder Cross Record would be proud of, while The Soft House is a shape-shifting cracker, moving from lonesome piano chords through to a dense post-rocky outro that wouldn’t sound out of place on a Mogwai record. The record drifts out on the de facto band anthem, Dorothy, a slice of folktronica sat somewhere between Lau and The Beta Band, like the whole record, it’s perfectly judged, a stunning way to drift out to sea on a record that’s only just arrived but only feels like it’s going to get better with age.
3. Mildred – Red [Memorials Of Distinction / Dog Day]
Making this list twice, Mildred are quite possibly the kings of the EP format for 2026 – and that’s even without the extra point they score for their clever titling skills. Mild living up to its name showcased the band’s softer edges, but it was the gnarlier Red that really gnawed its way into my heart. The Oakland band’s four tracker was a celebration of friendship and community, four singers, four songwriters, and four equal parts working in perfect unity. Both EPs were crafted during living room sessions,“before and after dinner”, in the house they all shared, and that sense of a band in the truest sense is evident in their approach across Red. I can only start raving about Mildred by speaking of not a song, but a single line in the chorus of the song Trailer Hitch. There’s something about the harmony they hit as they sing, “when the trailer hitch breaks”, that’s so utterly magical it transcends the fact I have no idea what a trailer hitch is, or why one is breaking? Somehow, an ocean away, they’ve written a song I don’t understand that still moves me with the power of pure melodic beauty. Elsewhere, the EPs lead single, Sauvie’s Nude Beach, is a song about a youthful summer in Portland that sounds almost exactly like I’d picture a youthful summer in Portland, all languid layers of guitars and entwined vocal harmonies reminiscent of Whitney or Slaughter Beach Dog. While it’s gone far too soon, Red does at least finish in real style, with the mesmeric Grown Boy. Here, they forego the country trappings for a slice of soulful pop, reminiscent of Curtis Harding or Matthew E. White, it’s a song that just seems to float in the ether, warming your very soul with its delightful presence. With their no-nonsense approach to everything they seem to do, Mildred don’t seem like the sort of band to make a fuss, unfortunately for them, if they keep making records this good, a fuss is definitely coming their way.
2. Natalie Wildgoose – Come Into The Garden [Self-Released]
Hailing from the other end of Yorkshire, Natalie Wildgoose appeared on my radio one morning and stopped me in my tracks; the rest of the EP didn’t disappoint. Come Into The Garden was recorded on a series of pianos across the Yorkshire Dales, Natalie taking her grandfather’s old reel-to-reel tape recorder with her as she, “seeks to uncover the past; to reconnect with and capture the environments of the places and people that hold her”. The result is a fabulously intimate thing, like stumbling across some dusty, long lost recording from another time, songs that owe as much to Molly Drake or Anne Briggs as they do any contemporary musician. As with all the best EPs, Come Into The Garden seems to fit a narrative into its six tracks; here it’s the nature of roots, from the way folk songs are passed between generations, to Natalie’s own ancestry and memories. This is a record that always looks back to find a way forward. The record opens, unsurprisingly, with Introduction, and it feels like the spirits clearing their throats. The piano seems to meander almost aimlessly, the vocals feel light and almost absent-minded, “listen to the river bank, cool your belly, calm your head”. It’s a fitting opening to a record that seems to slow time down, to calm the whirring mind and, for a time, let Natalie soothe your troubles and remind you what really matters. She’s there with you on Hand me a piece of your heart, sounding like Karen Dalton or Shannon Lay as she offers sage advice to not harden your shell, “don’t mind the sorrow in your own heart, be fragile as the wind in the morning”. The track that introduced the EP to the world, Angel was written in the heart of the winter, and serves as a reminder to, “move through life more slowly, to stop chasing time”, as Natalie’s playing takes on a touch Erik Satie as she sings of, “the whole business of what’s reality and what is love”, and concludes sometimes it’s better not to be sure all the time. Elsewhere Blackberries brings an acoustic gutiars into the mix as it spins ideas of closeness and missing it when it’s gone, while the titular closing track ups the vibrato to Angel Olsen-levels of loveliness as Natalie asks, with an undercurrent on unspoken hopelessness, for her wandering lover to, “put away your travelling thoughts”, and join her in the simple life at the garden gate. On this mesmerising collection, Natalie Wildgoose achieved something quite remarkable, a record that quietly commands your attention in the age of bells and whistles, and drags you away to the North York moors to gaze upon the rugged beauty that the heather-clad rolling hills hold.
1. The Cindys – The Cindys [Breakfast Records / Ruination Records]
What do you do when you’ve pushed your music so far that you no longer find stretching your boundaries compelling? That’s the somewhat unpromising jumping off point that Jack Ogborne, aka Bingo Fury, found himself in when he formed The Cindy’s. While his work was critically lauded and to the outside world seemed to be thriving, Jack wasn’t finding it exciting anymore. With that creative block, he returned to his first musical love, the sounds of 80s indie, “from C86 to Flying Nun”, and there he found the directness and lucidity he was looking for. He cast off fear of the derivative and set about mimicking the sounds of his favourite bands, throwing everything he loved into the pot and creating a record that became far more than the sum of its parts. In keeping with a theme of many of these EPs, The Cindys open proceedings with their debut single, Ethernal Pharmacy, a song about Jack’s experiences touring as a sound engineer, “seemingly living a life of excess while simultaneously being totally broke”. Musically it’s built an open riff, “so simple a toddler could play it”, yet sounds remarkably fresh, and in its own way gently thrilling, reminscent of the likes of Guided By Voices or Veronica Falls. Elsewhere Dry TV is a, “down the line coming of age love song”, resplendent with teenage nostalgia and the gentlest note of optimism, while Dish Water lives up to its title with its kitchen-sink slice of lo-fi; all melancholic vocals and barely strummed guitars like the middle ground of Friendship and early Maccabees. One of the great thrills throughout the record is the effortless interlacing of Jack’s vocals with those of bandmate Naima Bock, twin voices so entirely different that somehow work perfectly together. This is never better demonstrated than in possibly my favourite moment, Isaac’s Body. It’s a departure from the more languid offerings elsewhere, all taught, wiry cycles of guitars, drums that seem to be gradually cranked into life, and atop it all those two voices, like lighthouses in a storm, beautifully twinkling out, reassuring you everything is okay. The Cindys is a record that comes from the heart rather than the head, someone falling back in love with making the music that moves them, and thankfully, inviting us all along for the beauty of that journey.
I’ll be back soon with my favourite albums of 2025 (once I’ve decided what they are!)
For The Rabbits 