There is an old church in Crouch End called Church Studios. Over the years, many sounds have emerged from its walls, but the sound rising from it now is enough to stop you in your tracks.
This is where Tooth recorded their latest work. The London-based four-piece brought five tracks together to create Restless in Bloom. Set for release on June 12 via Soil To The Sun Recordings, this debut EP looks, on paper, like a band’s first major step. However, once you listen, you realize that definition is far too small.
When we think of “second-wave emo,” the early 2000s come to mind—Thursday, The Used, and that painful era where you felt you had to cry before you could belong anywhere. Tooth knows this language intimately, but they don’t simply speak it; they internalize it to form their own sentences. Featuring Tom Pollock on vocals and guitar, Charlie Arnison on base, and Roy Lowe on drums, the space the trio occupies is difficult to define: it holds the melancholy of emo alongside the raw edge of garage rock.
The title of the EP comes from a poetry zine. Restless in Bloom represents a youth restless on the edge of transformation—the state of being about to open up to something unknown but never quite blooming. Pollock explains that the track tells the story of two people: those who gently drift apart while leaving adolescence behind. It isn’t exactly a “relationship,” yet it is entirely one. After all, sometimes the heaviest losses don’t have a clear name.
The production credits are equally striking. The recording features Kev Jones (Wunderhorse), with mixing by Vince Ratti (Turnover, Scowl) and mastering by Will Yip (Turnstile, Title Fight). These names were not chosen by chance. They share a common trait: they don’t care for rushed beauty; they understand the tension that explodes at exactly the right moment. The EP carries exactly that tension.
Ahead of them are stages at Wilderness and Reading & Leeds festivals, with their UK tour already underway. But for now, those are matters for the outside world. Currently, the only thing that matters is these five tracks—clocking in at under forty minutes—and the fact that by the end of that duration, something feels entirely different.
Some music romanticizes youth. Restless in Bloom mourns it. That distinction makes all the difference.
