From the quiet, humble surroundings of a shed in Southend-on-Sea, UK, comes an album that defies genre and expectation—Pettaluck’s Pan. Released on March 29, 2025, the 8-track album offers a sonic exploration of the human experience, weaving together a tapestry of joy, pain, isolation, and the deeply personal journey of healing. Created by Emma Reed, known for her work with Culture as a Dare, Lost Harbours, and Ten Tigers, Pan is both an introspective and exuberant record, as she delves into themes of parenthood, illness, and the chaos of a world in flux.
Throughout the album, Reed’s distinct voice and vision shine through, mixing a wide range of influences from punk energy to ambient soundscapes, and from woodwind-laced maximalist nursery rhymes to chill Gabber beats. It’s an album that doesn’t stay in one place for long, shifting moods and genres in ways that feel both spontaneous and intentional. The record is a reflection of Reed’s time during and after the COVID-19 pandemic, as she processed her own illness and its impacts on her life and family. As Reed describes it, Pan is her attempt to “create a warmer place of joy and unity,” all while remaining unflinchingly honest about the messiness of life and art.
Opening with the title track, Pan introduces us to Reed’s new sonic landscape. The track begins with an ambient, meditative quality before diving into a rhythmic, almost hypnotic groove. It’s a soundscape that feels vast and exploratory, much like the rest of the album. Thematically, it hints at the album’s recurring motifs—exploring both the ordinary and the profound. It’s clear from the start that Reed is creating something that goes beyond the surface.
Following Pan, the album transitions into Hot Coffee, a track that embodies the tension between comfort and chaos. The blend of gentle instrumentation and underlying rhythmic complexity captures that sense of morning disorientation, as if trying to find clarity through a haze of caffeine and existential questioning. It’s a sound that feels simultaneously warm and unsettling, echoing the emotional complexity that pervades the entire album.
Baby Blues is a track that takes listeners to an entirely different place. With its chill Gabber beats and ambient textures, it explores isolation through a unique electronic lens. The song evokes the quiet desperation of feeling detached from the world around you, all while crafting a rhythmic foundation that pulls you forward, making the song a paradox of movement and stillness. It’s one of the album’s most striking tracks, using electronic beats to capture the complexity of emotional experience.
Then there’s Snake Oil, where Reed channels the maximalist energy of her influences into something utterly original. The song feels like a nursery rhyme gone rogue, with whimsical woodwinds and playful melodies clashing against sharp, punchy beats. It’s an exploration of illusion and authenticity, confronting the idea of false promises and the desire for something genuine in a world full of deception. It’s messy and imperfect, and yet, it’s precisely in that messiness that the beauty lies.
Summer Tonight takes on a more laid-back tone, with a nostalgic feel that captures the warmth of simpler times. The track evokes images of carefree evenings, basking in the glow of summer, but there’s always an undercurrent of tension—like a fleeting moment of joy in a world that often feels unpredictable. It’s a celebration of the fleeting beauty of life, where even the most ordinary moments can feel extraordinary when viewed through the right lens.
The next track, Into the Woods, is a cover from Reed’s previous band, Lost Harbours, and it’s a welcome return to the rawness and earthiness of her early work. It’s a hauntingly beautiful track that juxtaposes nature’s simplicity with its complexity, embodying the spiritual and emotional journey of finding one’s way through the unknown. Reed’s voice here feels like a guide through a dense, mist-filled forest—a metaphor for the trials and tribulations of life.
Dungeness brings us back to more ambient territory, with textures that evoke desolation and beauty in equal measure. The track is a sonic exploration of space and isolation, conjuring feelings of emptiness that are both chilling and soothing. It’s a moment on the album where Reed allows for reflection, contemplating the landscapes of both the external world and the internal mind.
Finally, Divine closes the album with a moment of grace, wrapping up the journey with a sense of catharsis. The ambient textures here are lush, and the melody carries a sense of resolution. It’s a track that invites listeners to pause and reflect, offering a sense of closure and renewal—a reminder that even in the face of hardship, there is always the possibility of healing and growth.
Pan is an album that defies easy categorization. It’s messy, joyful, challenging, and honest. Reed has crafted something deeply personal yet universally resonant, an album that speaks to the trials of the modern world while celebrating the small, often overlooked moments of beauty. With its genre-bending approach, Pan invites listeners to find solace in imperfection, joy in the unexpected, and beauty in the chaos. It’s an album that invites you to come as you are and, in turn, leave a little bit different.
