A Sharp, Sunlit EP About Girlhood, Heartbreak, And Learning To Protect Your Peace
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Siena Fantini writes like someone who keeps her receipts in song form. On her second EP, laundry list, the Los Angeles singer-songwriter turns the messy mechanics of girlhood into four guitar-driven pop songs that feel diaristic without ever sounding sealed off. There’s crushes, jealousy, friendship fallout, and that strange, aching moment when you realise growing up can feel like losing and learning at the same time.
What makes laundry list click is the balance. Fantini’s melodies arrive with a sunlit ease, all clean hooks and buoyant lift, but the writing keeps a sharper edge. She has a gift for making a line feel casual even when it lands like a confession. On wanna know her name
, she watches an ex’s Instagram and gets snagged by the sight of another girl, a small social-media detail that opens into something much larger: envy, hurt, and the humiliating little aftershocks of being replaced. Fantini says the song comes from real life, and you can hear that plainspoken sting in every turn.
The EP’s title is apt. These songs do feel like a list of emotional inventory, but they’re never flat or clinical. 25
is a good example: deceptively upbeat, almost playful on first listen, then quietly brutal once the lyric starts circling the damage of a one-sided friendship. Fantini uses that contrast well. The production keeps things bright and polished, while her voice carries the weight of someone who has already learned how exhausting it is to keep excusing people who drain you. There’s a self-protective clarity in the song that feels especially pointed, especially young.
Elsewhere, a little less evil
slows the pace and lets Fantini lean into piano-led reflection, her voice stretching across the melody with a mix of tenderness and self-interrogation. claustrophobia
is gentler still, built around acoustic guitar and the kind of warmth that comes from friendship rather than romance. It was shaped by a summer music camp experience, and that communal feeling lingers in the arrangement: open, airy, and grounded in connection. Then there’s poptart
, the EP’s most vividly textured moment, where Fantini drops in sensory details with a writer’s confidence. Stale breakfast pastry, soda comparisons, a lover who looks like a Tuscany summer night. It’s specific in a way that makes the song feel lived-in, almost touchable.
That specificity is central to Fantini’s appeal. She has said the songs that feel most honest come straight out of her diary, and laundry list bears that out. Still, the record never collapses into private memory. It reaches outward, capturing the universal awkwardness of being young and trying to make sense of your own boundaries, your own wants, your own blind spots. The result is a pop EP with real emotional architecture: crisp, melodic, and quietly unsparing.
Fantini is still early in her artistic life, but laundry list already sounds like the work of someone who understands that adolescence is full of tiny ruptures that can echo for years. She doesn’t dress them up. She sings them clean, and lets the feeling do the rest.
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