Endive is the brainchild of Warner Mossel and Marcel Ju. Based between Leiden and The Hague in the Netherlands, the band released their debut EP, headprint, in April. Although technically an EP, its nearly 30-minute runtime makes it feel closer to a full-length album.
The opening track, etretat, immediately sets the tone for what follows. Outstanding vocals – somewhere between Thom Yorke and Jeff Buckley in both technique and emotional delivery – are accompanied by elegant piano motifs. The song carries a distinctly melancholic atmosphere, yet its richness comes from the intricate interplay of bass, electric guitar, and subtle production details. Everything feels carefully crafted, yet also spontaneous., while the production itself remains organic and human. The result is a beautiful blend of ambient textures, art pop sensibilities, and a hazy, dreamlike atmosphere that makes for a rather unique listening experience.
The second track, to unfold, begins with a simple piano riff before gradually expanding into the full sound of the band, creating a captivating introduction. Once again, the flawless vocal performance enhances the song’s bittersweet mood, balancing melancholy with a quiet sense of hope.
Changing of days opens with an intriguing vocal introduction before a prominent synth bass emerges from beneath the surface. The delicate vocals occasionally remind me of one of my favourite artists, Jens Lekman, while guitars and drums slowly join in, allowing the song to build in an almost lethargic, hypnotic fashion. Around the three-minute mark, everything briefly pulls back before swelling once more, eventually dissolving into an ambient ending accompanied by the voice of a child.
The EP’s most immediately accessible track – and the only one running at around three and a half minutes – is nightfall. It opens with cinematic piano and gentle strings, while the vocals once again evoke Radiohead. However, unlike Thom Yorke’s often icy vocal delivery, these vocals possess a certain warmth despite their melancholy and androgynous quality. The catchy piano melody runs throughout the song as the vocals effortlessly reach soaring high-register passages, creating an almost meditative, ambient experience.
The EP closes with its longest composition, nothing left to say. My favourite moment arrives around the 1:45 mark, when the instrumentation suddenly becomes unexpectedly aggressive, momentarily tearing apart the otherwise intimate, smoky jazz-club atmosphere. This explosive section returns towards the end in an even more energetic form. I especially love the brief pauses before everything erupts again – they make the payoff very satisfying.
The final piece, reflection, leans into a more melancholic piano-driven atmosphere, once again carrying a distinctly cinematic quality. An irregular, almost off-kilter beat gives the composition an additional layer of tension. Unlike the previous tracks, this one is entirely instrumental. It reminds me of my favourite band, The National, imagining what they might sound like if they ventured further into experimental territory. Many of the songs on headprint originated through improvisation, and that creative process is perhaps most apparent on reflection – very much in the best possible sense.
Overall, headprint is a remarkably confident debut that never rushes to impress. Instead, it quietly draws the listener into its intimate world, rewarding patience with emotional depth, subtle beauty, and thoughtful songwriting.
This album was discovered via Submit Hub
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