8/10

London’s French Dogs barrel into their self-titled debut EP, heart racing, eyes wired, and guitars slung low like weapons. Their new release feels like stumbling into a story already mid-spiral: sleepless nights, messy feelings, and the kind of emotional honesty that only comes out when the city is quiet and your thoughts won’t shut up.

The opener 'Treasure' sets the tone with a cracked-open vulnerability. It’s a song lit by fridge-light at 3am, where the world gets too still and memory gets too loud. The guitars shimmer like streetlamps in fog while the vocal delivery carries that gut-tight ache of missing someone you shouldn’t still be missing. French Dogs have a gift for turning tiny moments into entire urban landscapes, and this track is their first map.

Then comes 'Modern Day Despair', a slow glow of introspection that walks the tightrope between resignation and possibility. It floats rather than stomps, offering a moment of emotional clarity before the chaos returns. Their lyricism shines here, delivering something sparse, searching, and cinematic in its simplicity.

But the EP’s core ignition point is 'Toxic Alibi', a track that refuses to brood when it can combust. It rushes forward with scrappy charm, bruised humour, and that very specific youthful energy where heartbreak turns into motion. Here, French Dogs know how to turn poor decisions into pure momentum.

While closing track 'Unlucky in Love' is the EP’s rallying cry. It’s the sound of counting your losses and laughing anyway, fed up with everything but still willing to try again tomorrow. The band channels frustration with such cheeky, blazing honesty that it lands as empowerment.

What’s most striking is how alive this EP feels. The production is crisp but not clean, the performances are tight but never stiff, and every track holds a spark of real-world exhaustion mixed with joy. French Dogs write with their whole chests to offer messy, earnest, and utterly addictive debut collection.