The Orchestra (For Now) has, by this point, become something of a household name. The seven-piece, who formed in 2023, have been experiencing a remarkable surge, becoming one of the most exciting and widely adored acts to emerge from the scene recently. Their rise helped secure them the Green Man Rising competition in 2024 and brought us their first EP, Plan 75, released in March. Now they’ve returned with a direct continuation of that work: Plan 76.
Plan 76 begins exactly where the final track of Plan 75, Wake Robin, left off. From the first guitar strums of opening track Impatient, the tone for the record is unmistakable — a darker, more contained development of what the band established on 75. Everything feels more sinister from the outset. The track eventually erupts into a storm of aggression, with jagged, in-your-face guitar work and the chaotic surge of Erin and Lingling’s violin-and-cello duo tearing through the mix. The section builds relentlessly, amplifying the lyrical theme — the universal experience of impatience — until it becomes almost physically palpable. It’s a fantastic opener that carries us straight into the next track.
The EP’s first single, Hattrick, lands second on the tracklist. It impressed me as a standalone release, but within the EP’s context it’s even stronger. The song offers an intriguing sonic contrast: the same abrasive guitar textures from Impatientreturn, while Charlie’s intense drumming cuts boldly through the mix, giving the track an unwavering drive that mirrors its lyrical story of a possible murder. Yet amid this ferocity, moments of softness appear. Lighter guitar passages open up space for Joe’s piano and his vivid storytelling, which paints the world of a character wanted and tried for murder. This is interrupted by a section of field recordings — the most tender moment in their discography to date — before all the instruments surge back in after a brief, haunting interlude of just violin and cello. What follows is another burst of intensity, reflecting the character’s unraveling mind as he clings to a sense of innocence, culminating in a whirlpool of sound that captures the collapse of his sanity before the track abruptly cuts off.
After this chaos, Amsterdam offers a softer, almost dreamlike introduction. But soon enough, the harsher edges we’ve come to expect from the EP return: gritty guitar lines underscoring lyrics about the depressive weight of turning 20 and strained relationships at that age. This is undercut again by a return to the earlier dreaminess — guitars easing off, strings plucked, piano taking centre stage — though the lyrics grow more complex. Our narrator shifts from comforting a friend to recounting someone breaking their hand in a drunk driving accident, revealing a bitterness that nearly recreates that recklessness. Reality then crashes back in, the lyrics inverting those of the opening verse as another climactic swell builds. The movement evokes the ferocity of adolescent emotion – depression, angst, and the feeling of everything happening at once.
After the previous track dissolves, we arrive at the penultimate piece, The Administration. It begins delicately, leaning into the band’s orchestral and jazz sensibilities to create a rich but gentle texture — a welcome breather in what has been a constricted, emotionally heavy EP. But soon the soaring guitars return, exploding the track into a new direction before it falls back into a darker, more expansive variation of the earlier section. The lyrics seem to trace a broken relationship sinking steadily deeper. Eventually the track slows into an uncertain haze, leaving us suspended, expecting another crescendo that never comes.
Then comes the melancholy piano that opens the second pre-release single, Deplore You / Farmer’s Market. The song is slow-burning, distinct, and unlike anything the band has done before — which gives it a special place for me personally. The approach suits the material perfectly. The lyrics offer a third-person critique of someone’s hidden shortcomings within a family, handled with striking tenderness. For a moment, we’re left alone with soft cello and violin gliding beneath quiet, delicate keyboard notes — and then, silence. The eventual explosion is typical of the band, yet here it feels different: raw, mournful, consumed by the weight of these inner failings. It’s a devastating close that shows the emotional depth the band is capable of when they lean fully into it.
Plan 76 is easily one of the strongest releases of the year so far — a natural and compelling next step for The Orchestra (For Now). It’s a more emotional, more heartfelt evolution of their sound, one that contrasts beautifully with Plan 75. Every song earns its place; the band’s musical brilliance is on full display as they craft sonic landscapes that conjure vivid images and stories for the listener. A near-perfect EP from a band who, hopefully, will continue to rise and create work as powerful as the two releases they’ve given us so far.
Words: Noelle Radzewicz