Out Here by Zero VU is released today across all major streaming platforms, including Apple Music, Spotify, Deezer, and YouTube Music.

A brass band somewhere in the distance. A seaside town at the end of the season; the crowds gone, the streets quiet, everything somehow stranger and more beautiful for it.

This is the world of Zero VU’s Out Here.

The new four-track EP from brothers Nick and Mitch Taylor, Out Here moves between memory and imagination; somewhere familiar, but slightly out of focus.

Nick Taylor, a score recording engineer and mixer, and multi-instrumentalist and vocalist Mitch Taylor, have spent years in and around bands, live rooms and recording studios. That shared experience shapes Zero VU’s approach: instruments take precedence over plug-ins, vintage equipment over digital precision, and feel over perfection. The result is music that is worn around the edges, quietly evocative and shot through with a dry sense of humour.

At the heart of Out Here is a live brass section, used to conjure a very particular kind of British nostalgia: Salvation Army bands, village fêtes, damp holidays and the faded grandeur of places that seem to belong to another time.

Although this isn’t nostalgia for nostalgia’s sake. These sounds of the past are set against contemporary, ethereal and distinctly off kilter production, resulting in something more ambiguous. The four tracks feel like faded postcards from empty promenades and forgotten holiday towns; places whose best days may be behind them, but which retain a stubborn sense of character, warmth and possibility.

There’s melancholy here but also humour, tenderness and the feeling that something worthwhile might still be waiting just around the corner. It’s music that looks backwards without getting stuck there. That tension runs throughout all four tracks, including the first song, ‘Heads You Win’ – a dreamy, slightly surreal tale of bad luck and bad weather, delivered by a narrator whose deadpan observations lend the song its distinctly droll charm – somewhere between resignation and a willingness to carry on.

Out Here is nostalgic without being sentimental – a record of time passing, dreams not quite realised and the stubborn optimism of carrying on regardless.