Review: Marlon Funaki — Half Moon
Music
Marlon Funaki
Half Moon
Warner Records
Street 03.13.2026
Marlon Funaki = Michael Kiwanuka + Palace
Marlon Funaki is one of those enigmatic artists who seems to arrive with a meteoric rise out of nowhere, yet his discography feels familiar and lived-in like a pair of thrifted boxer shorts. Born in California, the 24-year-old credits his Japanese and Mexican American heritage for inspiring his unique discography, which oozes with flavors ranging from psychedelia and jazz to Chicano Rock and reggae. He began releasing singles as early as 16, sowing the seeds for a music career that took a major leap in January this year in the form of a warm and steamy Warner Records contract.
Self-taught and self-produced, Funaki’s first big break came in 2023, whilst playing a last-minute gig at Aviator Nation Dreamland in Malibu. After the show, he was approached by country singer-songwriter Billy Currington, who happened to be in the audience. The two cultivated a friendship, resulting in Currington inviting Funaki and his band to open several shows on his North American tour in 2024 and 2025. You’re allowed to hate Billy Currington and the bloated corpse of modern popular country music, yet still appreciate him for assisting in the launch of a younger and much more talented artist. Two things can be true (my therapist says so).
Every night on stage, Funaki sports a trademark cowboy hat, which was given to him by his grandmother as a child. The perfect centerpiece to his neo-vaquero style, it serves as a crown, giving legitimacy to the latest modern troubadour to personify the ancient human need to take psychedelics in the desert. Like other great singer-songwriters, I can get a good feeling of his evolution by doing an archaeologist’s dig into the discography. I’m looking for the hero’s journey that makes the clock tick, the essence that I can’t describe, but God-dammit does it make my foot tap.
Funaki’s latest EP, Half Moon is his best yet. It builds on the ideas and successes of his aptly-monikered 2025 EP Overdue and I think pound for pound will compete for best record with any other record released in the indie-alternative scene this year. (It’s early though, and some of my favorite artists are due for a new release. Looking at you, MJ Lenderman!)
“Let You In” is a warm and bubbly track, easing in with gentle background vocals that seem to invite you to come inside and sit on the shag carpet in front of the warm fireplace. It’s giving Barry White twirling his chest hair, the first margarita of a beach vacation or a beer at 11 a.m. on a federal holiday. The song concludes with a beautifully melodic guitar solo, really showing off Funaki’s jazz guitar roots.
I imagine “Skin” playing while I’m riding shotgun in a canoe headed to a psychedelic party in a swamp. The song’s driving bass line slows with a vibe check around a minute and a half into the song. I’d like to think this is when I’d float out of the boat and start seeing colors and talking to the moon and shit.
My personal favorite song on the EP is “Wish You Well.” Funaki sings, “‘cause his shadow lingers heavy / ‘cause he’s pushing through the storm / and he knows he’s getting weary / cause he’s holding onto home.” To me, this describes a state of being I’ve known all too well: on the surface life is so good and you have so much to be grateful for, yet sometimes late at night, after a long and happy day, a wistful nostalgia for something you can’t and won’t describe decides to show up and briefly ruin the party. The song’s chorus utilizes the haunting vocal resonance of some of Funaki’s past hits, creating a grand and roomy effect that really accentuates the “I wish you well” line.
“Million Things” has a really pretty acoustic intro, and its lyrical content furthers the nostalgic undertones introduced in “Wish You Well.” Paired with some of the lyrics in Funaki’s earlier music, I’ve only got to imagine a life on the road for a young budding musician is a really lonely thing: “I’m constantly reminded by a rolling tide / a place where I belong” and “Are you home again? / ‘cause I’d do a million things to understand / And are you still a friend?” This is probably my least favorite song on the record, but it has some cool harmonies that remind me of Palace or Lord Huron. I could see this being a good one to wind the set down on a warm summer night before launching into past hits like “Red Hearts” or “Under Fire.”
The album concludes with “Time and Place,” which is a damn good song. The lyrics “there’s four birds by the window / softly can you hear them / and I know and I know that I’ve fallen / but I pick myself up again” remind me of that moment where you quietly understand that you’ve hit rock bottom. It is the “this is it” realization where you decide you’ve got to get it in gear. The song ends with a repetitive arpeggiated guitar lick, a trope I will NEVER get tired of in this lifetime.
Though at times it slows and gets you in the feels, this record is full to the brim with hope. It’s good to put in the background of a party, it’s good for eating barbecue ribs, it’s good to show to your classic-rock purist Fox News dad. Check it out! —Cole Stocker
Read more music reviews by Cole Stocker:
LMSR: April 2026
LMSR: March 2026
