8/10

There's a sense of arrival running through The Tern’s debut EP. Not just because the South London band have abandoned the intimacy of their early recordings, but because they have finally found a broader setting for it.

Founded by cousins Finlay Glen and Gabriel Pearcey in 2025, The Tern initially operated in a more stripped-back space, drawing from folk and American roots music. With bassist Tien Albert and drummer Max Guest now part of the line-up, their self-titled EP captures the group as a fully realised band for the first time.

Produced by Ella Walker, the release opens that sound considerably. Electric guitars are layered into the arrangements, the rhythm section adds weight and movement, and the songs are allowed to expand without losing the observational quality at their centre.

Finlay’s writing remains grounded in ordinary life, but there's often a tension between resignation and the possibility of something better. ‘The Hills Are Blue’ and ‘Take What You Can Get’ both wrestle with the dull repetitions of contemporary existence, yet neither feels entirely defeated by them. Humour and moments of release keep creeping in, giving the songs a warmth that stops the darker thoughts from becoming overwhelming.

While the opener ‘Hard Luck’ takes a more reflective route. Its philosophical acceptance of imperfection feels like a weary understanding that life rarely arrives in the shape we expect. Here, the band handle that mood well, allowing the arrangement to breathe rather than forcing the song towards an oversized emotional climax.

And then there is ‘Gentle James’. Originally released as The Tern’s debut single, it closes the EP in comparatively bare form, offering a direct portrait of grief without trying to decorate it excessively. Its simplicity works particularly well after the fuller arrangements that precede it, bringing the EP back towards the intimacy from which the band first emerged.

That light-and-shade approach gives the EP a strong cohesion as it plays. The band focus on disappointment, grief and everyday frustration, but they're equally alert to humour, affection and those brief moments when something transcendent breaks through.

As a debut EP, 'The Tern' feels confident without overreaching. It preserves the band’s folk-rooted storytelling while giving the songs more physical presence and colour throughout. The result is a strong introduction to a group learning how much space their writing can occupy without losing the detail that made it compelling in the first place.