First Girl On The Moon is a bold, cohesive statement. It’s for the introspective listeners who want their pop songs to have a bit of dirt under the fingernails and their heads firmly in the stars. Erica Manzoli hasn't just landed; she's planted a flag.
W: Pattie J Hurst



Erica Manzoli isn’t just releasing an EP; she’s terraforming a corner of the indie-pop landscape and naming it after herself. With First Girl On The Moon, the London-based singer-songwriter officially trades the "emerging artist" tag for the mantle of a world-builder. This six-track collection is a masterclass in radical honesty paired with a cinematic ambition that defies her DIY roots. It is a painstakingly curated journey navigating the messy intersection of digital-age disillusionment and the gravity-defying lift-off of first love.
"A love song wrapped in 1960s space-age optimism... capturing the exact second of emotional lift-off."
The EP serves as a definitive anthology of Manzoli’s growth, gathering fan favorites like the biting Burn The Internet and the narratively complex Dear Other Woman. However, it’s the new material that truly anchors the project. The opener, Breakup Blues, sets a tone of intimate vulnerability, while the title track acts as a celestial closing centerpiece. Drawing heavy inspiration from the BBC Radiophonic Workshop, the production is a playground of retro-futurist textures—think theremins and omnichords swirling together to create a soundscape that feels both kitsch and deeply, hauntingly sincere.
"A love song wrapped in 1960s space-age optimism and Hollywood-on-Borehamwood ambition."
What sets Manzoli apart is her refusal to let the music exist in a vacuum. Her artistry bleeds into a vivid visual language, from the Wes Anderson-inspired aesthetics of Suzy Loves Sam to the "Hollywood on Borehamwood" ambition of her latest music videos. Whether she is performing alongside a six-foot moon or directing her own offbeat visuals, there is a sense of theatrical stagecraft that makes her work feel immersive. As she prepares to take this world to London’s The Grace and across the UK and EU with Em Beihold and Eileen Alister, it’s clear that Manzoli isn’t just singing songs—she’s inviting us to watch the earth disappear from beneath our feet.
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