A Sentimental Studio Retreat

This release might be Presti’s most sentimental to date. The foundation for the EP was laid at the Lemon Moon Cottage in Sebastopol, CA, where Presti turned one of his favorite BnB getaways into a dedicated music studio to record the project.

From that intimate acoustic starting point, the next phase of the EP evolved through a series of dynamic collaborations with friends, both old and new. Presti catapulted the energy of the album with a studio version of “Simple Things,” a track originally written during the pandemic, featuring Sonoma County rockers Blue Radio. Presti and his longtime drummer, Rob Matteri, had the idea to bring in Blue Radio as his backing band. After just one practice, they hit the studio and created a version of the song full of organic energy. The track was later mixed by Jay Pellicci, who also mixed Presti’s previous record, Different Places.

Global Engineering & Full-Circle Collaborations

The Lemon Moon EP features contributions from an impressive roster of heavy-hitting industry names, creating a lot of full circle moments for the artist.

• “Her Eyes”: Presti linked up with Aubrey Whitfield, an engineer from England who’s worked with Lady Gaga and Billie Eilish, to mix and master the tune.

• “Never Gonna Be Famous,” “Ghosts Inside My Head,” and “Sitting on a Wave”: Presti worked remotely with Ryan Hayes, an engineer based in Austin, Texas, to bring these tracks to life.

• “When You’re Down”: The final track was mixed at White Whale Studios by Stuart Markham, the same studio and engineer he recorded ‘Simple Things’ with. It also features Presti’s longtime friend Dan Dectis on keys and Jocelyn Levy on vocals.

• Mastering & Visuals: The EP was mastered by Michael Romonowski at Coast Studios. The album artwork was spearheaded by Presti and designed by Frisk Creative.

From Hardcore Punk to Acoustic Vagabond

Anthony Presti’s musical journey is as eclectic as his sound. Growing up in Seattle during the thriving grunge era, he later moved to Northern California, spending over a decade playing in a touring hardcore punk band. Following the band’s dissolution, Presti relocated to San Francisco, returning to his roots with a gifted acoustic guitar and blossoming into a solo artist.

Today, Presti’s vagabond life is evident in his music. He flirts with multiple genres, tied together by thoughtful lyrics, catchy hooks, and a live-looping performance style. Drawing inspiration from icons ranging from Tom Petty and the Grateful Dead to Johnny Cash, his sound reflects the diverse places he has lived and the people who raised him.

A few singles from the Lemon Moon EP have already been released and are receiving a great response from listeners.

Musically, the influence of the 2000s pop-rock scene is strongly present here, particularly in the choice of melodies. The focus is on tight rhythmic support for addictive vocal hooks rather than riffs with vocals on top, as in rock, so it’s definitely more pop than rock. It’s great pop, though, in the sense that it’s not this hyper-polished designed-for-radio song – no, it’s a real song with a great live-sounding performance from everyone involved.

With ten more tracks still to come in the rollout and shows scheduled across Atlanta and Charlotte, Lotus Grove are clearly in a productive moment. The diversity of influences in the room could easily have produced something muddled, but “Ordinary People” sounds like a band that has figured out how to filter all of that into something focused. Looking forward to picking up the album that fills in around it.

The song is carried by the poetry of the lyrics, and the music sets the scene in a more supporting role – but it’s not an afterthought. You would be surprised how complex it is to create a delicate musical texture around such intimate vocals. The instinct for less-experienced arrangers is to fill space, to add layers that signal effort, but that approach kills this kind of song dead. What Aylett does instead is leave room – room for the vocal to breathe, room for a phrase to land before the next one arrives, room for the listener to sit inside a line rather than be pushed past it. The instrumentation works the way good lighting works in a photograph: you don’t notice it consciously, but remove it and suddenly the whole thing loses its shape. There’s a real craft in knowing what not to play, and it’s the kind of craft that only comes from years of understanding what the song actually needs.

With twenty years of songwriting behind him and an active 2026 ahead, Aylett is clearly not in any rush to be anything other than exactly what he is. “Past Goodbye” is the work of someone who has made peace with the slow, honest path – and it sounds like it.

“My Own Flame” is a story about rediscovery. The song moves through emotional spaces shaped by silence, self-erasure, and the painful habit of shrinking oneself to fit into expectations. Rather than turning those experiences into bitterness, Riley Finch reshapes them into something restorative.

That transformation appears immediately within the opening lines: “I walked through fire they told me to fear / They tried to break me, but I’m still here.” The imagery is simple yet effective. Fire becomes both the obstacle and the path forward, representing not only survival but the willingness to emerge changed.

The track sits comfortably between acoustic rock intimacy and alternative rock depth. The arrangement avoids unnecessary excess, allowing the emotional weight of the lyrics to remain at the center. There is restraint throughout, but it never weakens the impact. Instead, the quieter moments give the song its pulse.

The chorus acts as the emotional turning point: “I light my own flame, I beat my own drum / Don’t need permission, I don’t need to run.” Here, the fire motif shifts from struggle into ownership. What once threatened becomes something carried with intention. The song stops asking for acceptance and begins speaking from self-recognition.

One of the strongest lyrical moments arrives in: “I wore your mask, I bit my tongue / Lost myself trying to belong.” It is perhaps the most vulnerable section of the track because it addresses something deeply human, the exhaustion of abandoning parts of ourselves in pursuit of belonging.

As the song progresses, its emotional landscape widens. The bridge introduces a decisive shift: “They tried to write my ending / But I rewrote the page.” This moment feels less like rebellion and more like reclamation. The narrative no longer centers on what was lost, but on what can still be rebuilt.

By the closing lines, “Yeah, I light my own flame / And it’s mine alone to carry,” the fire imagery reaches its final form. It is no longer a symbol of pain or resistance. It becomes responsibility, identity, and acceptance.

“My Own Flame” by Riley Finch delivers an emotionally charged piece where heartbreak gives way to healing and resilience grows quietly beneath the surface. It is a song that does not burn everything down; it, indeed, lights the way forward..

Sonically, VHS Panty Riot manages to faithfully recreate that 80s soundscape while adding their own modern EDM melodic sensibilities. Those aforementioned sensibilities are clearly inspired by retro video game soundtracks, but this is definitely a chicken or the egg situation – because both those mediums have a symbiotic relationship with each other. The game soundtracks emerge from the EDM scene and a feedback loop happens, and the soundtracks influence the music back. The most impactful textures of choice here are a huge, chorused-out lead sound that tears through the mix to convey the visceral image of peeling the sun, and an energetic, danceable drum groove that keeps the momentum going.

For fans of Carpenter Brut and that specific intersection of cinematic dread and dancefloor energy, this is squarely in the wheelhouse. “Peel The Sun” is the lighter-toned entry point into a project that can clearly go darker when it wants to, which makes it a smart standalone release – it draws a wider circle without abandoning what the project is built on. The EP arriving in June should give a clearer picture of where VHS Panty Riot are headed, but this is a good reason to pay attention before it lands.

The lyrical aspect speaks for itself – it’s inspired by arguably the greatest literature of all. But though the song already has powerful lyrical content, it doesn’t phone in the other elements. The gorgeous layers of intricately woven melodies are some of the most inspired in a while. Simplicity is the hardest thing to achieve in art, but here Roland Wälzlein manages to achieve it with poignant and deliberate melodies that essentially tell the side story next to the poetic lyrics – they give depth and add richness in a way that is second to none.

The source text is about the hollowness of human achievement when stripped of genuine compassion, which is a theme that doesn’t age. What Wälzlein has done is find a musical register that matches that weight without becoming heavy-handed about it. Former Atlantic Records A&R Wyatt Easterling called him a “rare and unique artist”, and on the strength of this track, it’s hard to argue with that.

Doing Fine explores the tension between personal identity and collective expectations. Rather than presenting rebellion as something reckless, the track frames it as an act of self-preservation. It becomes a reminder that choosing your own path does not make you an outsider; it can simply mean staying honest with yourself.

The song leans into the spirit of ‘90s grunge and punk. The opening riff immediately establishes a familiar atmosphere filled with grit, distortion, and restless momentum. There is nostalgia woven into the arrangement, yet it never feels like imitation. Instead, OPCRITICAL uses these influences as a foundation for a message rooted firmly in the present.

The rhythmic drive keeps the song moving with urgency. Persistent beats push the composition forward while the guitar passages create moments of tension and release, allowing the track to breathe without losing its intensity. The energy remains consistent, gradually building as the song unfolds.

The track  challenges social and institutional pressures that encourage conformity. Its recurring refusal to “fit into the box” becomes more than a hook; it evolves into the emotional center of the track. The message is direct, unapologetic, and perfectly aligned with the song’s rebellious character.

The accompanying video strengthens this atmosphere through its VHS-inspired aesthetic and chaotic visuals, echoing the alternative culture influences behind the release.

With Doing Fine, OPCRITICAL delivers a statement on authenticity; using riffs, rhythm, and resistance to celebrate the courage it takes to, gain at all odds, remain yourself!

The single blends country-pop storytelling with alternative pop and pop-rock textures, creating a sound that feels both familiar and contemporary. A driving acoustic guitar anchors the arrangement while crunchy electric layers bring momentum and edge. The gradual rise into a hip-hop inspired beat gives the song additional character, while the harmonic guitar riff leaves one of the track’s strongest impressions.

“Carpe DMs” cleverly balances between humor and reflection. The title may invite listeners in with playful energy, yet the song itself reaches further, touching on instant gratification, ghosting culture, short-lived excitement, and the hesitation that often defines modern relationships. It captures the strange reality of living in a time where communication is constant, yet genuine connection can still feel elusive.

There is also a sense of optimism beneath the sharp observations. Rather than criticizing dating culture outright, the song approaches it with curiosity and self-awareness, leaving room for vulnerability amid the chaos.

Influenced by the spirit of alternative rock acts and rooted in story-driven writing, Zach Outman delivers a track that feels personal while speaking to a wider audience. “Carpe DMs” by Zach Outman is both a clever commentary and an engaging listen, offering a snapshot of romance in the era of notifications and read receipts.

The song opens with a direct emotional strike: “The memories tattooed on my heart / Your pictures are killing me / Yesterday fades but I still see you.” There is no dramatic build-up here. The lyrics immediately place listeners inside a space shaped by lingering memories and unresolved emotions. Memory becomes something permanent, etched rather than forgotten.

⇒ Check more detals on TCR! webpage here.

Yesterday Blurs thrives on contrast. Textured percussion and dark-toned guitars create an atmosphere that feels jagged yet strangely melodic. There is a deliberate roughness to the production that works in the song’s favor, preserving its emotional authenticity.

The repeated line, “I’m ok, I’m ok, I’m ok, I’m ok,” quickly becomes more than a chorus. It feels like a fragile affirmation, spoken repeatedly as an act of emotional survival rather than certainty.

That tension deepens through: “My moments I can’t explain / I have my list of betrayals / Yesterday blurs but it’s not dismissed.” This becomes the heart of the track. Time may soften memories, but it does not erase their impact.

⇒ Check more detals on TCR! webpage here.

The song then shifts into darker territory with “Knife slices the air / We can’t coexist,” introducing a sharper emotional edge and revealing the instability simmering beneath the nostalgia.

Adding another dimension, the bass section midway through the track offers a reflective pause before the song returns to its emotional turbulence.

With Yesterday Blurs, TCR! crafts a darkly cinematic listening experience that thrives on tension, contrast, and emotional realism.

Following the darker atmosphere of Such a Burden, Move takes a strikingly different direction. Where its predecessor explored self-doubt and emotional weight, this release leans into light, momentum, and optimism. Yet beneath its bright synth lines and danceable rhythm lies a more personal narrative shaped by heartbreak, healing, and self-reinvention.

The song moves comfortably between indie rock, funk, disco, alternative pop, and unmistakable 80s influences. Sequenced synth textures give the arrangement its nostalgic pulse, while the playful vocal layers add character and warmth. The intentionally “workout-song” aesthetic becomes one of the track’s greatest strengths, creating a listening experience that feels energetic without losing emotional sincerity.

One of the most refreshing aspects of Move is its refusal to fit neatly into expectations. BADSQUATCH approaches genre with freedom, allowing the song to exist somewhere between retro celebration and personal reflection. That willingness to take risks gives the track its individuality and keeps it engaging from beginning to end.

Recorded at Topetitud Estudios in Mexico City as part of a larger fourteen-track project exploring mental health, self-love, shadow work, and growth, Move offers an early glimpse into an album that seems determined to remain unpredictable.

With Move, BADSQUATCH transforms nostalgia into something more meaningful. The result is a track that celebrates motion, embraces change, and reminds listeners that sometimes healing arrives not through stillness, but through movement itself!