New York alchemist Francis Fell returns with “Vol. II”, a three-track EP that feels like unearthing a lost 70s psych-rock tape in the digital rubble of 2025. Francis Fell’s commitment to full analog recording isn’t just a gimmick—it’s the lifeblood of this collection, giving each song a warm, unpredictable texture that modern production often sterilizes.
The crown jewel, “Lionpebble”, is where Fell’s genius crystallizes: anti-pop structures warped through a kaleidoscopic lens, with guitar tones so tactile you can practically smell the tube amps overheating. It’s the musical equivalent of finding a handwritten letter in an age of text messages—unexpectedly intimate, deliberately imperfect.
While brief, the EP spans surprising ground—from hazy, reverb-drenched daydreams to tightly coiled rhythmic experiments—all united by Fell’s signature balance of nostalgia and innovation. There’s a deliberate slipperiness to their sound; just when you think you’ve pinned down an influence (Tame Impala’s woozy grooves? MGMT’s early weirdness?), the track shifts like quicksand.
“Vol. II” feels like a small act of rebellion—three fully realized vignettes demanding to be consumed as a whole. The fact that these songs were reportedly recorded live to tape only deepens their charm; you can almost visualize the analog needles bouncing as Fell pushes their psychedelic visions into the red.
A compact masterclass in textural storytelling that makes digital feel disposable. Francis Fell isn’t just reviving analog techniques—they’re proving why they never should have left. Connect With Francis Fell on Spotify
