Distracted

BY: ALLIE RUSSELL

There’s a certain energy that surrounds a band at the very beginning. It lies in the moments before the polish, before the expectations, before anyone has decided who they’re supposed to be. Lost River Fleet is firmly in that moment right now, and it’s exactly what makes them so exciting to follow. 

Formed less than a year ago in Exeter, New Hampshire, Lost River Fleet – made up of singer Zach Hill, guitarist Ethan Bernich, bassist Morrison Sawyer-Lemeris, and drummer Spencer Mann – came together almost accidentally. Zach began posting videos of himself singing online. Ethan was doing the same with guitar clips. One impulsive text, “Do you want to start a band?” was all it took to set things in motion. Soon after, Spencer was recruited in a school library, and Morrison worked his way in with a two-paragraph message detailing his experience. Soon after, Lost River Fleet was alive.

Despite their short history, Lost River Fleet pull from an impressively wide range of influences. Kings of Leon serve as a shared touchstone, but beyond that, the band splinters in every direction: from modern indie to country, punk, and grunge. Instead of muddying their sound, those differences fuel it. 

Songwriting for the group rarely belongs to one person. Ideas may start with a single member, but by the time they’re finished, each track has been bent and reshaped. Guitar parts shift, drum patterns evolve, and melodies grow to fit Zach’s voice. The result is music that resists being boxed into one genre; folk-leaning at one moment, alt-rock the next. 

Live is where their chemistry becomes undeniable. Since their first full-band show this past July – which was complete with blown-out bass levels, mic failures, and a furious sound engineer, a story they recount fondly – the band has built a reputation for tight sets and genuine crowd connection. Recent shows, including a pivotal night at The Blue Flame, introduced them to New Hampshire’s deeply interconnected local scene. For the band, this felt like a glimpse ahead: a confirmation that what they’re building together can actually hold a room full of strangers. 

That live energy carries directly into their debut EP, Someone New, out February 27th. The five-track release doesn’t try to define Lost River Fleet so much as document them. To the band, the songs are a snapshot, capturing everything they have gone through over the past year.

Lyrically, Someone New leans into emotional honesty without spelling everything out. Themes of heartbreak, self-doubt, people-pleasing, and resilience run throughout, but the band resists over-explaining. Instead, they leave space for listeners to bring their own meaning, an instinct that feels thoughtful and notably self-aware for a band this new. 

That restraint also shapes how they talk about the response they’ve received so far. Lost River Fleet only began playing live six months ago, yet several of their early shows sold out. Still, they’re quick to deflect attention away from momentum, crediting friends and family instead. There’s a clear excitement building under the surface, a sense that they know something good is happening, but it’s paired with an almost stubborn grounding. Even when discussing bigger goals – larger rooms, festivals, opening for bands they grew up loving – ambition is paired with the reminder that they’re still early in their career. They talk about paying their dues, refining their songwriting, and earning every next step rather than skipping ahead. 

That mindset shows up everywhere. In the way they describe songs as snapshots rather than statements. In the way they laugh about grinding the same track in an attic until they knew it “to a T.” Even now with sold-out shows behind them, they seem far more interested in getting better than getting bigger. 

Someone New feels honest because of that restraint. It doesn’t present Lost River Fleet as finished or fully formed, and it doesn’t need to. Instead, it captures a band mid-motion, learning how to trust their instincts, how to let four different music backgrounds collide, and how to sit comfortably in the uncertainty of becoming. There’s no rush to define the sound, no urgency to declare arrival. 

As a listener, that’s what makes this moment worth paying attention to. In a landscape where young bands are often pushed to project confidence before they’ve earned it, Lost River Fleet is choosing patience. They’re letting the work speak first and allowing themselves to be new. 

If this EP is truly a snapshot, it’s one taken just before the picture changes. Before the rooms get bigger, before the expectations harden, and before the story gets written for them. For now, Lost River Fleet is exactly where they need to be: learning how to be someone new, without rushing to decide who that has to be.