Review: Martyrs

Martyrs – sno-fi (EP Review)

Merthyr Tydfil’s least favourite sons are back - naturally, with a Christmas EP that sounds absolutely nothing like a Christmas EP. And thank god for that. Martyrs’ sno-fi is a charming, unsettling, warm, cold, sad, funny and utterly distinctive festive collection, released exclusively on Bandcamp to raise money for Cancer Research UK. If you needed a reason to support a great cause and soundtrack your December with something far more interesting than Slade, this is it.

The EP opens with Snowglobe, a dreamy, crooning glide through a soft-focus winter scene. The vocal drifts in like a warm breath on frosted glass - gentle, slightly melancholic but beautifully inviting. Hints of blues, pop and even Faith No More at their softest seep through, giving the track a nostalgic yet oddly modern sheen. It’s relaxed, tasteful and sprinkled with unexpected moments, especially the late-night guitar solo that bends space and tone in all the right ways. A lovely, slow-burn festive gem.

Snow Came Down flips the Snowglobe over and shakes it hard. A gothic-pop shimmer straight out of the 80s leads the way, with a vocal that nods towards Nick Cave but never imitates. The track is darkly festive, wrapping its melancholy in warm synths and ghostly keys. It’s seductive, atmospheric and strangely comforting - the sort of Christmas song you'd play while staring out of a window at 2am pretending you're in a noir film.

Then comes Snow Through Frosted Glass, easily the boldest track on the EP. A funky, upbeat backing track shuffles in beneath a spoken-word narrative that feels part Alan Bennett, part weary poet, part social document. The story itself is powerful, shot through with poignancy and quiet devastation - “smiled a smile that wasted everybody’s time” is one of the sharpest, saddest lines we’ve heard all year. It’s contradictory in the best possible way: upbeat music carrying a heavy message, delivered with tenderness rather than preaching. This is art, full stop.

We then revisit Snowglobe in a stripped-back acoustic version, which reveals just how strong the songwriting is. With the production gone, the emotion sits higher in the throat. The vulnerability in the vocal and the simplicity of the guitar make the chorus bloom in a completely new way. It’s not just a bonus track - it’s a whole second perspective on the same winter memory.

The demo version of Snow Came Down follows and it’s a fascinating glimpse behind the curtain. More Tears for Fears than gothic grandeur, its rawness gives the melody a different kind of intimacy. Hearing the song’s skeleton only makes you appreciate the fully-formed version even more.

The EP closes with Snowblind, a darker, more experimental instrumental journey. Layered, atmospheric and full of controlled tension, it’s the kind of track you realise you’re holding your breath through. It expands the duo’s sonic world yet again, managing to be immersive without ever feeling self-indulgent.

Martyrs have crafted something genuinely special here. sno-fi is strange, sincere, inventive, deeply human - and all for an incredible cause.

Support it, buy it, share it… because in a season full of predictable Xmas noise, Martyrs remind us that sometimes the best gifts come wrapped in something beautifully different.

And trust us this EP isn’t just snow-fi… it’s snow-fly.