Rooted in the life of a rural singer-songwriter but reaching far beyond it, Zackery’s debut EP, Fragments, sonically resonates with the environment that it was created in. Somewhere between Manitoba’s wheat fields and the soft glow of a Toronto billboard, the six-track collection feels like someone cracking open the voice memos app at two a.m. and hitting “record.” It’s short—just under 10 minutes—but what it offers in that time is intimate, clear, and oddly magnetic.

“HLYTW” might be the punchiest track on the EP, but it’s still planted in Zackery’s signature poignancy. “You make the distance seem so close,” he coos, before slipping in the kind of line that burns more for how casually it’s delivered: “And I hope you move here, but you won’t.” This kind of restraint is what makes Fragments feel so lived-in. Even when the production fills out or the tempo picks up, Zackery resists the urge to go full catharsis, resulting in a sound that’s elaborate without ever feeling overornate.

Elsewhere, on tracks like “On the Edge” (Zackery’s break-out single) and “Do Your Worst,” he leans into falsetto as both a texture and a kind of emotional armour. These aren’t ballads built to climax (right before they do, they retreat), but it’s that subtlety that makes them stick, like something you only notice once it’s already settled in. Zackery isn’t rushing to prove anything. Instead, he offers a slight glimpse—just six tracks worth—into a headspace that’s soft, curious, and slightly undone. The entire EP reads like a promise: there’s more where this came from, but only if you’re willing to wait.