‘Burrow’ opens the EP with the click of a tape deck, plunging us into a post-rock-leaning space with acoustic guitar chords and beautifully understated spoken vocals. Brooding, emotional, restrained. It explores the need to retreat from the horrors of the modern world, back into nature, into somewhere internal and protected. From there, ‘Hours, Years’ expands outward, layering synths, guitars and percussion into something more restless and urgent. A meditation on the perception of time that feels both hypnotic and unsettled.

At the centre sits ‘I Was Only Alive’, perhaps the EP’s most striking moment. Beginning with sparse instrumentation and airy keys, it gradually builds into something fractured and full, capturing fragility and force side by side. Snare snaps, spoken word delivery and the imagery of a frayed rope remind us that everything is made from the sum of its parts, that we all have an important role in this life, for ourselves and those around us. The track closes in a swell of rhythm and texture with synths, affecting shared vocals and repetition of the title gathering into something resolute.

Closing track ‘Lewin’ brings things more intimate still. A song about absence and the lingering presence of someone no longer there. It moves through tenderness and disorientation, never quite resolving but never collapsing either. Lewin is The Old English name meaning ‘dear friend’, described by Kamran as “something or someone lacking and you don’t know how you could have possibly lost them.” There is so much space here, allowing the listener to drift and follow their own pathways through memory and meaning.

Between Two follows instinct into spaces unknown. It’s shaped by grief, vulnerability and openness, but never weighed down by them. Instead, those feelings move, shift and take form in their own time through beautifully unpredictable arrangements and tender lyricism.

The EP takes its name from the Tibetan concept of ‘Bardo’, a space between death and rebirth. When did that idea crystallise as the centre of the EP?

Lorcan: We essentially gave ourselves a month to write these four songs. It’s only ever in retrospect where the meanings of our songs become clear but we knew with a lot of certainty that themes of grief, death and life would be entwined with these songs. The worldly suffering we have all been subjected to undoubtedly had found its way into our lyrics. Between Two is taken from the Tibetan concept of the time between death and rebirth but it can also represent a moment, a choice to align with your thoughts and emotions, or with your essential self. The space between life and death, between grief and love, between peace and chaos perfectly encapsulates how we felt during the writing of this project.

Themes of grief, aging and self-fulfilment run throughout. How do Kamran and Lorcan bring their separate emotional worlds into collaborative songwriting?

Lorcan: Being around each other every day, in a relationship of six years, really helps both of us understand each other’s respective feelings. It used to be hard to know what we were both thinking when writing together but it has gotten easier with time and proximity. We have also gotten better at explaining our songs to the band. Getting over the vulnerability of unraveling our lyrics and stories has helped the whole band better understand the intention of the music.

There’s a real sense of time passing and shifting across the four tracks, especially on ‘I Was Only Alive’, where the arrangement builds and dissolves and builds again. How conscious are you of structure when you’re writing?

Lorcan: Our view on structure has always been quite passive and is only ever thought about if there is something that’s not working, normally after we have written a song.  It’s always funny when heading to the studio and the producers ask us about the chorus or the second verse and we have to take a minute to figure out what they mean. To get to a new section we all give ourselves silence to stop and let our minds imagine where the song can go. We are all self taught musicians and I think a small part of us has enjoyed the limitations opposed on us, and maybe that is why our songs take on an unusual structure - because we don’t think about our music in sections but as a journey or story that evolves, and yes there is often dramatic switches or ‘scene changes’ in the songs but we are always in touch with the chemistry of the room and our five little heads working as one is often the key.

You’ve shared about recent diagnoses of Autism and ADHD. In what ways has this informed or changed how you understand your creative process or expression?

Kam: Our lyrics started to make a lot of sense after we got diagnosed! It’s definitely easier to lean into our lyrical themes since having an explanation for our thought patterns and behaviours. Writing is much more fun now that we’re not trying to slot neatly into anything, nothing about us is neat and we’re learning to see that as a strength.

How does Between Two feel different to Fold the World? What’s shifted in your writing or perspective over the past year?

Kam: Our writing always changes as the music we listen to changes. We’ve been feeling inspired by a lot of slow core, midwest emo and folk artists which is a shift from the jazzier influences of Fold the World. Our perspective has changed too, Fold the World was about our inner worlds, whereas Between Two feels more about everyone, or being alive in general.

When listeners sit with these four songs, what do you hope they feel? Comfort? Catharsis? Recognition? Or something else entirely?

Kam: I don’t hope our listeners feel a specific feeling, I just hope they feel something. Like so many others, making music is an emotional outlet for us and the reason we share it is to move people in whichever way is important to them. A friend of mine said that if moving people means we’ve only given them a tiny nudge, that’s enough and I like that sentiment.

You’ve recently toured with The Orielles. How was that? Did playing these songs live reshape how you see them?

Ollie: We’ve all loved The Orielles music for ages so it was really cool to be asked to join them for a few dates! Often we’ll go to the same cities on tours so it was lovely to play some places we haven’t been before. We played a song off the EP that we hadn’t done live before these dates which was equally fun and nerve-racking. It’s always great to test out a song on the road and see the reception it gets.

With exciting festival slots coming up at Dot to Dot and Left of the Dial, how does it feel to be venturing further afield?

Kai: It feels so good to be playing in Europe again! Dot to Dot is going to be great too. They are both festivals we have been wanting to play for years so to now have the chance is really exciting. I’m sure we’ll be making great memories at both! It feels like it has come at the right time as well, as a collective we are happy with where the music is at right now so it feels right to be showcasing it at these festivals.

The band was born from a Brighton houseshare. How has the city shaped the way AtticOmatic sounds and exists?

Kai: Brighton has had a massive impact on us all for sure. Not only as musicians but as people. I’m obviously biased but there’s not a scene I’d rather be a part of! Everyone is so supportive and excited for each others achievements. There are so many talented artists here, it’s only a matter of time until dreams start coming true. It’s such a relaxed place to be and being right by the beach doesn’t hurt! As a band we have all become so close and I think it’s removed any restrictions from trying stuff out and has let our sound change naturally. I can’t see us leaving Brighton anytime soon, it’s definitely home.

Listen to Between Two.