Cherry Pick - :3
Light Organ Records
Released on June 2, 2026
One might suggest that an EP entitled :3 has no business sounding this fucking huge; and yet, here we are. Whether an intentional misdirect towards something unserious or otherwise, belying that disarming, cheeky grin is a smouldering, visceral behemoth, replete with mercurial meditations on death, damaged relationships, and self-sabotage – a stunning representation of the work of an artist finding greater comfort contending with their own discomfort with vulnerability. It is Cherry Pick’s most focused, deliberate, and emotionally-exposed work to date. Trading out the shimmer and ascendence of 2024’s Sorry Place for something fuller, thicker, and more measured, on :3, Cherry Pick opts to walk an undeniably muddier path; choosing to sink in and to confront rather than to float away.
Throughout :3, Cherry Pick's DIY credentials remain firmly and fully intact; Cherry having played all of the drums, bass and guitars, and having recorded the vocals. Where :3 departs from prior releases, however, is not so much a matter of form as it is one of substance. Cast aside is any inclination towards the “buzzword lyricism” of the past – that ever-convenient shield, simultaneously protecting and concealing inner-world truths and anxieties; that distance instead having given way to a deep, earnest emotional honesty. These are not songs that have been rushed, wrapped, tagged, and sent out on the overnight; they have been given ample time and space to steep, and that patience has paid enormous dividends.
It is :3’s earnestness, perhaps, that is for me its most disarming quality (its title notwithstanding, as above). Cherry Pick appears wholly disinterested in the prospects of masquerading irony as intelligence or of airing distance or aloofness as some manner of emotional sophistication: big feelings are big feelings, arriving at full volume; fear of death sounds like a fear of death; heartbreak hurts. There is something so palatably genuine – almost adolescent – about that kind of directness; that rawness. Make no mistake, however: there is nothing childish about this record – not in the least. Cherry Pick’s refusal to play that game – never disguising the turmoil – if anything, makes :3 feel astoundingly mature.
The music meets that emotional directness with a colourful, delightfully messy collision of textures. Dream-pop melodies conspire with a shoegaze haze and dense, layered guitars, each pulling at and pushing the other to ever-greater depths, as transcendent passages become engulfed by towering, mind-bending noise; only to abruptly dust themselves off and emerge fully intact on the other side. Among options, “aster” may be the best example, its sweet vocal line besieged by buzzsaw guitars determined to swallow it whole. “asleep with the fishes” is darker and more destabilizing still, written in the aftermath of an intense psychedelic experience that spiralled from a deliberate confrontation with mortality into an untethered, discombobulating, and, ultimately, transformative place. Been there, Cherry Pick; been there.
If I were to lodge any critique, it would be this – and not one for which Cherry Pick can or should accept any blame: recreating the viscerality; the enormity; the sheer rapturousness of a Cherry Pick live performance through a set of headphones is, simply put, impossible; though, full credit is given where due for getting one as close to that as one could on :3. Beyond its emotional depth and the musical fluency on full display within, :3 is an expertly-crafted EP; full of the kind of texture and nuance that’d make any audiophile blush. Long story short: spin this EP ‘til the grooves wear out, sure; but go see Cherry Pick – it’s believin’. Trust me.
