There’s something deeply moving about a split EP done right, not as a toss-away collection of unreleased material, but as a document of mutual understanding, sonic kinship, and shared ethos. Long, Distant Letter, the split EP between Resignation (Toledo, Ohio) and Family Medicine (Saint Louis, Missouri), arrives as a conversation across distance and time zones. Still, more importantly, it’s an intimate correspondence between two emotionally articulate bands operating at the intersection of emo, orgcore, and melodic indie punk. This is not your typical split. There’s no stylistic clash or forced juxtaposition. Instead, Long, Distant Letter feels cohesive and deliberate, like the product of two bands that understand the emotional architecture of each other’s music. It’s a lean release, two tracks per band, but each second feels essential, charged, purposeful. What we have here isn’t just two bands splitting the tape, but two bands who, in spirit and execution, write from the same emotional well, channeling contemplation through distortion, openness through melody, and existential analysis through anthemic resolve.
Resignation, whose pedigree already includes the remarkable You Are More Than Right Now from last year, continue their journey into the melodic fringes of melodic, emo-core. Their contribution to this split positions their place among the current wave of post-hardcore revivalists who understand the history but aren’t bound by it. There’s a deep sense of conviction in how they construct tension and release, each phrase, shouted lyric, touches like it’s been chewed over, lived through. You can hear traces of Grade’s raw nerve and Hot Water Music’s gravel-throated haste, but Resignation is never derivative. Their arrangements are muscular yet sensitive, shaping the sound that bruises gently. Guitar interplay is dynamic but never showy; the rhythm section grounds everything with just enough chaos to keep the emotional temperature rising. They understand that heaviness isn’t always about volume, but sometimes it’s all about the emotional weight, the lyrical self-inventory, the catch in the throat before a shouted chorus. And that’s where Resignation truly shine. They’re a band who speak plainly and powerfully, emotionally unfiltered, without falling into cliché. If emo is, at its core, about channeling vulnerability with dignity and power, then Resignation are among its most articulate messengers.
On the flip side, we find Family Medicine, who bring the same commitment to heart-forward punk but filters it through a slightly different lens. Where Resignation leans into the post-hardcore bite, Family Medicine embraces the indie punk shimmer without losing any of the rawness. There’s a fierce intensity to their sound, but it’s balanced by an inherent musicality, a clarity in the arrangements that lets each instrument breathe. You get that old-school Hot Water Music punch, but you also hear the melodic sensibility of bands like Small Brown Bike or early Desaparecidos. Family Medicine write like people who have seen the worst and still believe in beauty. Their melodies glide, but never without friction. In the meantime, their lyrics cut but always with empathy. There’s a deep humanity in their music, but in the way they let their instruments speak. You can hear the bass carving out its own narrative beneath the chords, the drums responding with intuition and precision. It’s band chemistry of the rarest kind, not just technically tight, but emotionally attuned. Together, these bands create a shared space where catharsis is inevitable. Long, Distant Letter is a document of stability, empathy, and survival. It’s music made by people who feel too much and turn that feeling into something collaborative. The styles they explore throughout the entire EP are still capable of something radical, telling the truth in a way that moves people.
Both bands should be praised not just for their contributions, but for how gracefully they complement one another. There’s a thematic unity here, not in subject matter necessarily but in emotional tone. You feel it in the way both bands balance melody and rawness, reflection and confrontation. It’s music for people who still care about their friends, about their city, about their own fragile inner world. It’s like Resignation and Family Medicine are writing to each other, to us, to anyone who has ever felt overwhelmed and underseen, and they’re doing it with a clarity and conviction that’s increasingly rare in this oversaturated musical landscape. Long, Distant Letter is short in runtime but massive in emotional payoff. Resignation and Family Medicine may be geographically distant, but this split EP proves they’re close in heart, and honestly, in times like these, what more could you ask for? An essential listen.
Thoughts Words Action 