In the creative ecosystem of the Bay Area DIY scene, collaborations often sprout like wildflowers, but few feel as predestined as The Pennys. Comprising the combined pedigree of Mike Ramos (Tony Jay, Flowertown) and R.E. Seraphin, their self-titled 2025 EP is a manifesto in what they’ve termed “occult heartbreak pop.” A sound that feels less like it was recorded in a studio and more like it was exhaled into a four-track in a sun-drenched Bernal Heights apartment. While Seraphin is typically known for his sharper, power-pop sensibilities and Ramos for his signature sonic languor, The Pennys find a middle ground that is both sturdier than a dream and softer than a memory. It’s a vintage-tinged record, where tape hiss and slightly out-of-sync harmonies aren’t flaws, they’re the atmosphere.
The project wasn’t even supposed to be a band; it began as Seraphin seeking Ramos’s production ear for a solo record. That lack of initial pressure permeates the six tracks. There is a quiet-yet-confident energy here that comes from veteran songwriters who no longer feel the need to over-embellish. “Say Something” glides on a breathy, pleading vocal and a piano line that feels like a steady pulse against the fuzzed-out guitar. It’s the sound of a relationship dissolving in slow motion. In a fascinating pivot, “Trilobites” is inspired by Seraphin’s time in Austin and carries a peripatetic swagger. With its steady beat and Owen Adair Kelley’s haunting slide guitar, it manages to feel pastoral and immediate all at once.
The band leans into their Velvet Underground roots on “My World.” It’s an anachronistic anomaly, a song that would have sounded right at home on a 1980s 4AD sampler or a lost C86 cassette. Mentioned in the same breath as Jesus & Mary Chain, “Long in the Tooth” strips away the feedback to reveal a skeletal, catchy hook that proves “less is more” isn’t just a cliché, it’s a strategy. “No More Tears Pt. 2” is closing track with a wink. Named “Pt. 2” primarily to avoid confusion with Ozzy Osbourne, it serves as a glimmering exit-light, making the EP’s brief duration feel less like a limitation and more like a tantalizing, half-remembered dream.
Amidst a landscape of fluorescent, ultra-processed pop, The Pennys offer something intentionally blurred. By bringing in local luminaries like Yea-Ming Chen and Luke Robbins, Ramos and Seraphin haven’t just made a creative syndicate record; they’ve captured the communal spirit of the San Francisco scene. It is a record for the introverts, the kind of music that demands you sit still and listen to the air between the notes. It’s heartbreak you can live in, a collection of exquisitely wrought elegies that linger long after the final chord fades into the hiss.
Learn more by visiting: Mt.St.Mtn.
