The EP chronicles Percival's reckoning with his sister's debilitating Long-Covid condition—a narrative that would crumble under lesser hands but here becomes something approaching transcendence. From the opening chords of the title track, we're plunged into the disorienting reality of watching a loved one suffer from 300 miles away. "Curtains Closed" establishes the EP's emotional template with what Percival himself considers "perhaps the best track" he's ever written—a statement that, remarkably, doesn't seem hyperbolic once you've experienced it. The song's progressive structure belies its accessibility, embedding meter changes and unconventional harmonics into a framework that feels both intellectually stimulating and emotionally devastating.
Track three introduces guitarist Oren Velasquez Hirtenstein, whose solo elevates the piece to unexpected heights, suggesting the influence of Nothing But Thieves while maintaining Percival's distinctive emotional signature. The architecture of the song builds toward catharsis without ever quite delivering it—a masterful reflection of the frustrating limbo of chronic illness and distant suffering.
It's with "Disembodied," however, that Percival delivers the EP's most audacious statement. This instrumental centerpiece abandons conventional language altogether, acknowledging what the press notes describe with stark clarity: "At some point in dealing with suffering, words really do become noise." Drummer Ethan Williams' quintuplet polyrhythms against straight quavers create a disorientating rhythmic foundation that mirrors the fractured reality of chronic illness. The unquantized performance—a rarity in 2025's clinical production landscape—lends the track a human fragility that perfectly complements its Hamasyan-esque complexity.
By the time we reach "What Am I Supposed to Feel?"—featuring the sublime saxophone work of Reuben Selby—Percival has established his refusal to be constrained by genre expectations. There's a Lewis Capaldi-esque directness to his vocal delivery, but the musical landscape beneath owes more to the post-punk angularity of Fontaines D.C. filtered through the melodic sensibilities of The Killers. Selby's saxophone doesn't simply adorn the track; it articulates the inexpressible grief lurking between Percival's carefully chosen words.
Recorded primarily on the "old, slightly out of tune, upright piano" in Percival's childhood home—directly beneath his sister's bedroom—"Curtains Closed" carries a spectral quality that no amount of technical perfection could replicate. It's this authenticity that elevates the EP beyond mere confessional songwriting to something approaching ritual.
"In a world that demands that albums and EPs must be musically unified in the same sound and genre, I choose to be different," Percival notes. This refusal to be constrained by genre expectations isn't mere posturing but artistic necessity—how else to capture the disorienting nature of watching someone you love suffer?
Released on April 25th, 2025, "Curtains Closed" arrives as a profound statement from an artist unafraid to mine personal catastrophe for universal truth. In doing so, Percival offers not just a collection of songs but a sacred space for anyone attempting to navigate the labyrinthine experience of distant grief. Essential listening for these fractured times.