Will Anderson didn’t set out to make Raspberry Moon a band record, but the band showed up anyway. And we're thrilled they did. Hotline TNT’s third full-length is something of a turning point. If 2023’s Cartwheel felt like a solo statement dressed in fuzz, Raspberry Moon is a widescreen coming-of-age, born from a year on the road and built by the people who lived it together. Guitarist Lucky Hunter, bassist Haylen Trammel, and drummer Mike Ralston joined Anderson in Amos Pitsch’s DIY lab and turned what was supposed to be another solo-heavy session into the most expansive and collaborative TNT album yet.

You can hear the difference immediately. Raspberry Moon trades bedroom isolation for full-band combustion; big riffs, blown-out emotion, and just enough restraint to keep things heartbreakingly grounded. It’s still steeped in Anderson’s signature blend of shoegaze and power-pop, but the sound is warmer, denser, more alive. And at its core is a hard-won revelation: sometimes the loudest thing you can do is let go and let others in.

Lead single “Julia’s War” captures that tension and release perfectly. A wordless “na na na nah” chorus floats like a flare over squalling guitars, daring you not to sing along. “In a world of half-hearted hooks, and buried-in-the-mix vocals,” says Anderson, “we had to muster the courage to do what the rest of the shoegaze community could not… You’ve never heard a TNT chorus this straightforward.” He’s not wrong. The song sounds like it was built to echo off stadium rafters.

Even the video leans into reinvention, with director Johnny Frohman crafting a bootcamp for would-be shoegazers. Dubbed “Slow Corps,” the clip features a cast of NYC comedy weirdos, underwater vocal drills, and enough pedalboard drills to make your ankles ache. It’s a winking reminder that even in the reverb-soaked world of Hotline TNT, there’s always room for humor and heart.

Across 11 tracks, Raspberry Moon finds Anderson trading past ache for present connection. There are still traces of regret and romantic fallout, but they’re filtered through something fresher, more hopeful. It’s music that embraces the idea of rebuilding - relationships, identities, even bands themselves.