Petit Biscuit’s New EP ‘Movement I’ Shows Tougher Side

For years, Petit Biscuit was the architect of sonic lullabies—his music an invitation to recline into warm nostalgia and star-soaked solitude. But on Movement I, the French producer doesn’t just redraw the lines of his sonic landscape; he burns the map entirely. This six-track EP isn’t a gentle evolution—it’s a seismic reinvention, marking a clear break from the introspective, beach-drenched textures of Presence and Parachute. This is Petit Biscuit not as dreamweaver, but as firestarter.

From the outset, there’s no room for passivity. The EP opens with an audacious move: a cover of Radiohead’s “Everything In Its Right Place.” It’s less homage than transformation—more Berghain than Oxford. With Lizzy Land’s crystalline vocals floating above orchestral stabs and a relentless house pulse, Petit Biscuit turns the cerebral glitch of the original into something corporeal, cinematic, and absolutely massive.

Thematically, Movement I feels like a coming-of-age opera, filtered through the lens of someone who’s tasted heartbreak and is now ready to dance it off—or at least dance through it. The EP’s narrative arc is emotional without being overwrought, personal without being precious.

Take “All Over,” the dirtiest surprise of the record. Teaming up with Asdek, Biscuit dives headfirst into deep dubstep—yes, dubstep—and the result is downright filthy. The track is carnivorous, with guttural drops and seductive whispers circling each other like predators in heat. It’s the most aggressive he’s ever sounded, and it works because it doesn’t feel performative—it feels earned.

Then there’s the aching beauty of “I Lost Myself.” Here, Petit Biscuit turns the spotlight inward, revealing scars through confessional lyrics and a trance-inflected beat that pulsates like a wounded heart. When he mutters, “I lost myself years ago too,” the line hits like a revelation, not a cliché. It’s a quiet reminder that emotional clarity doesn’t always come softly—it sometimes comes through a bassline.

The collaboration with Surf Mesa on “Without You” offers a breather, though not a reprieve. This isn’t the pastel chill of his earlier work—it’s the afterimage of a wild night, when the lights come up and the questions rush in. JP Saxe’s aching chorus, “Who would I be without you?” doesn’t land like a breakup lament—it sounds more like an identity crisis on the dancefloor. It’s the kind of line that stops you mid-step and makes you wish the drop never came.

What’s remarkable about Movement I isn’t just the stylistic shift—it’s the emotional consistency underneath the new sonic armor. Even at his most club-ready, Petit Biscuit still writes like a poet. The production is tighter, the ambition bigger, but the core vulnerability remains, glowing under the surface like embers.

With this EP, Petit Biscuit proves he’s not just evolving—he’s erupting. Movement I is more than a dance record; it’s a declaration. The boy behind “Sunset Lover” is gone. In his place stands an artist unafraid to rupture the serenity, to trade soft-focus sentimentality for something raw, loud, and beautifully fractured.

Let the curtains stay open. The storm is here—and it sounds divine.