Review: The Dear Hunter – North American EP

No cover artist credited

Style: progressive rock, indie rock (clean vocals)
Recommended for fans of: Coheed and Cambria, Closure in Moscow, The Reign of Kindo, Bear Ghost
Country: Washington, USA
Release date: 6 June 2025

There are few bands out there doing it quite like The Dear Hunter. Ever since that fateful day in the mid-2000s when Casey Crescenzo left his post-hardcore band behind in order to tell the tragic tale of a young man who journeyed too far from the riverside, they’ve been quite possibly the gold standard in crafting intricate, multi-album conceptual prog sagas¹. And yet, for all their sprawling, ambitious tales of pimps-turned-priests and dystopian ringed cities, TDH have also had plenty of opportunities to demonstrate their song-crafting fundamentals outside the confines of conceptuality, from the more straightforward indie rock of Migrant to the partially fan-sourced experimentations of All Is as All Shall Be. While the band’s latest EP continues in this vein, both it and its companion documentary offer a glimpse into another, heretofore underappreciated facet of the band: namely, that these guys are a very silly bunch of dorks.

For those unfamiliar, the “documentary” of the band’s 2023 North American tour only pretends to be a documentary for roughly its first fifteen minutes. From there, it morphs into a bizarre, surrealist horror-comedy about the band hiring an eccentric writer named Gleeb (basically Borat if he were a bearded homeless guy that yelled at seagulls) to chronicle the tour, and all of the strange goings-on that follow. In short, it absolutely does not take itself seriously, and looking at the titles of the five new tunes spawned forth from its soundtrack, including “Shlammin’ Salmon” and “Burritokyo”, one would logically consider that the North American EP would be a similarly absurd bit of goofing off, an inessential throwaway recorded on a whim to tide fans over while waiting for their next proper opus, Sunya. And while that’s not entirely false, such blithe dismissal forgets that The Dear Hunter are still just a damn talented rock band at their core, and they make better music goofing off than most bands do when they’re trying their hardest.

In terms of genre, the North American EP is fairly consistent with the band’s recent projects, mixing the spacey “future funk” synths and snappy rhythms of Antimai with the looser, more psychedelic rock vibes of Casey’s solo work as Honorary Astronaut. It’s still a decidedly singular sound, but nothing too strange given the sizable spectrum of style that TDH have covered over the course of their career. The arrangements are as lush and gorgeously maximalist as ever, with Rob Parr and Max Tousseau joining Casey in adding in layer after layer of guitars, keyboards, and backing vocals that show the continued influence of Queen and Pet Sounds-era Beach Boys². This fullness of sound elevates the otherwise straightforward (albeit kickass) rock and roll of “Four Amigos” with walls of organ and tight vocal harmonies and enables floaty, spacey closer “Burritokyo” to fully envelop the listener like a warm tortilla. A cosmic tortilla, made of, uh… stardust. And dreams.

Beneath all of that signature flash, of course, the fundamentals of the band’s songcraft are as strong as ever, delivering eminently memorable melodic moments one after the other while the rhythm section of the two Nicks (Sollecito and Crescenzo on bass and drums, respectively) pulls the music inexorably forward with a technical tightness that never slips into self-indulgence³. This especially shows on the more ambitious, Antimai-esque tracks, namely “Classic Wrock” and album highlight “Shlammin’ Salmon”. The former dances through intricate rhythms and switchups, including an excellent prechorus that recalls “Ring 6- LoTown” from the last album, on its way to a powerhouse conclusion that shows Casey’s signature tenor rasp in fine form. The latter, meanwhile, is an absolute masterclass in developing melodic and dynamic peaks and valleys over a single, rock-solid groove – that is, until said groove drops out from under the listener in its final minute, shifting into an absolute banger half-time finale laden with massive big-band horns, killer guitar work, and enough raw swagger to make me want to dance around my room despite still not being quite sure what its time signature is in spots.

So far as flaws go, there really isn’t much here I can point to as actively disappointing. I suppose “Magic Beans” gets the EP off to a somewhat shaky start with its weird vocoder-and-synth intro, and though the song proper is a solidly psychedelic tune with great guitar work and some shockingly beefy low notes from Casey, it’s probably the least strong of the five. I’d also say that, while the lyrics (particularly “Four Amigos”) are as lexically dense and packed with alliteration and consonance as ever, I find myself missing that certain clarity of conceptual concreteness that comes from Casey creating something that’s, well, conceptual. Without a storyline or setting, a lot of the words on here come off as fuzzy gestures toward vague vibe and metaphor – not surprising given that most of these songs were designed to also feature as instrumental soundtrack pieces, but it does mean that nothing here hits with the emotional force of, say, “Black Sandy Beaches” or “Light” off the Acts. 

Is the North American EP a must-listen entry into The Dear Hunter‘s discography capable of standing alongside the masterpieces of their existing catalog? Of course not, and it’s not trying to be. What it’s trying to be is a fun little collection of five enjoyable songs for fans of the band to rock out to, and in that regard, it succeeds admirably. I wouldn’t recommend it as anyone’s jumping-in point to start with the band’s music in earnest, but being inessential is a far cry from being low in quality. Casey has called this EP “a group of songs that exist in a pretty narrow context that we decided to share”, a straightforward snapshot of where the band was at rather than any statement about where they’re headed, and based on that I eagerly anticipate Sunya absolutely blindsiding us all. Let’s just hope they don’t give ten euro to any more suspicious-looking bearded fellows in the meantime.

Recommended tracks: Shlammin’ Salmon, Burritokyo
You may also like: Meer, Dim Gray, The Circle of Wonders, Good NightOwl
Final verdict: 8/10

Related links: Bandcamp | Spotify | Official Website | Facebook | Instagram

Label: Cave and Canary Goods – Bandcamp | Official Website

The Dear Hunter is:
– Casey Crescenzo (lead vocals, guitars, keyboards)
– Rob Parr (guitars, keyboards, backing vocals)
– Max Tousseau (guitars, keyboards, backing vocals)
– Nick Sollecito (bass)
– Nick Crescenzo (drums, percussion)

1. One could argue that Ayreon and eventual tour partners Coheed and Cambria did the multi-album opus thing beforehand, but neither has come close to the density of leitmotif nor the narrative clarity that The Acts display. Nobody’s ever needed to wait for a graphic novel to release in order to make heads or tails of a TDH album’s plot, just saying. ↩︎
2. RIP Brian Wilson ↩︎
3. Big Nick does not get a drum solo on this EP. Tragic, I know. ↩︎