OSLO, PARIS, LA: The New Sun Room Single
BY EMMALEE SULLIVAN
I’ve been hooked on Sun Room since 2021, completely obsessed with the surf rock–grunge sound they’ve carved out. What makes them stand out isn’t just their ability to put on high-energy shows and fully embody the rock star image—it’s also their willingness to be goofy and authentic on social media, giving fans a glimpse into who they really are.
Back in February 2025, they dropped a teaser on Tik Tok for a new track titled “Oslo, Paris, La.” From the moment I heard that short clip, I was stunned by the acoustic direction—it was a noticeable shift from their usual sound. But that surprise quickly turned into full-blown excitement.
After five long months of anticipation, the song finally dropped on June 17th. Naturally, I took it for its first spin while driving through the Colorado mountains. As I listened, I was hit with yet another surprise: a harmonica solo right in the middle of the track.
Somehow, this band—best known for their Southern California alt-rock edge—pulled off a wistful, Bob Dylan–esque love song without missing a beat. They didn’t just try on a new sound for size; they fully embodied it. The two sides of their musical identity—gritty surf rock and tender acoustic storytelling—blend seamlessly here.
PHOTO BY EMMALEE SULLIVAN
The harmonies between lead singer Luke Asgian and bassist Max Pinamonti are the highlight of the track. Their vocals layer beautifully, complementing the gentle guitar work and tying the whole song together. One lyric in particular stands out:
“The city starts its morning, the paper appears, but I’m in LA and you’re not here.”
It instantly conjures up a quiet morning in a sunlit Southern California home—coffee in hand, the paper on the doorstep—and the aching absence of someone you love. That’s when the harmonica kicks in, perfectly underscoring the feeling of quiet, reflective loneliness.
OVERALL, “Oslo, Paris, La” is a gorgeous love song about missing someone so deeply that even life’s sweetest moments feel a little hollow without them.
And if you ever see me in San Diego, sitting on a surfboard at sunset with a harmonica in hand—just know it’s Sun Room’s fault.
