REVIEW: ‘Bunny’ Marks the Beginning for People I’ve Met
WRITTEN BY ALICIA ZAMORA
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Photo by Mikayla LoBasso
People I’ve Met's debut EP, Bunny, feels like a band introducing themselves in real time, not through a polished statement but through songs that already know how to hold a feeling. Across five tracks, there’s a clear sense of movement between restraint and release, but what stands out most is how natural it all feels together — nothing is overstated, nothing feels like it’s trying to prove a point.
Made up of Moses Martin, Orlando Wiltshire, and Andrew Suster, the band carries a long history of playing and writing together, and that connection shows in the way the music sits. Everything feels instinctive. The guitars don’t crowd the vocals, the rhythm section doesn’t overplay, and the production leaves enough air in the mix for each moment to actually land. It’s the kind of EP where the chemistry is doing a lot of the work in the background.
“Promise” opens things in a softer space, built around reflection and emotional aftermath. It’s not trying to turn itself into a big moment; instead, it leans into atmosphere and detail. The strength of the track is in its control; the chorus doesn’t explode, it just opens up slightly, which fits the tone of the song more than a bigger payoff ever would.
“For Hire” introduces a shift in energy without disrupting the EP's flow. There’s more drive in the drums, more edge in the guitars, and a clearer forward motion overall. It feels like the band stepping out of reflection and into something more immediate, but still within the same emotional world.
“Loving One” is where the EP really expands. It starts small and unguarded, just voice and guitar, before slowly building into something fuller and heavier. The way it grows feels unforced, like it’s responding to its own emotion rather than following a structure. By the time it reaches its peak, the impact comes from how far it’s come, not from volume alone.
What makes Bunny work is its consistency of tone. It doesn’t jump between ideas just to show range; it stays grounded in a specific mood and explores it from different angles. That restraint gives the EP a sense of cohesion that feels intentional rather than limited.
As a debut, Bunny feels honest in a way that’s hard to fake. It doesn’t over-explain itself, and it doesn’t need to. It just establishes a band that already understands how they want to sound together, and more importantly, how to let a song breathe without losing its impact.