The split EP “When emo meant friendship on Myspace era” arrives today through Ghost Palace/Cargo, tying together two projects that grew up inside the same Bavarian scene: A Rose’s Diary and letters to you. The release is built from old stuff, remastered by Daniel Benyamin and Toni in Thessaloniki, and shaped by a reunion that happened almost by accident when Toni visited Jonathan in 2024. They listened to their old tracks, felt the years close in a bit, and decided to bring the songs back in one place.
Toni and Jonathan met in the mid-2000s at 13eins in Ansbach, a small alternative club that acted like a pin on the map for every emo kid in that region. Jonathan remembers the first A Rose’s Diary show clearly: “The club was packed to the rafters and I was sweating like never before. I couldn’t really see the audience clearly because my emo lock was hanging over one eye and the other was blurry from sweat.” That was 2006, the moment both paths crossed — A Rose’s Diary, then a duo formed by Jonathan and his brother Tobias, and letters to you, founded not long after by Toni.
The name “letters to you” came from the Finch song — a nod to where their heads were at in those years, scrolling Myspace bulletins, swapping bands through friend lists, and connecting with strangers who wore the same shirts.
Toni and Jonathan describe that time less like a phase and more like a place they lived in. Toni puts it simply: “Both of us were emo kids to the bone with black clothes, dark hair and painted finger nails. Myspace was the blueprint for everything we found in our music and it made us part of this subculture at its peak.”
Their friendship followed its own loose arc. They moved cities, saw each other rarely, but stayed in touch. When Toni visited Jonathan’s family in 2024, they fell into old routines — guitar lines, half-remembered demos, the familiar pulse of songs they made before life scattered them into different jobs, different places. That visit is what sparked the idea for the split. Jonathan says, “We had to dig deep into our drawers to find the dusty stuff again.”

Both artists carry a steady affection for those early years. Jonathan talks about it in terms of connection: “I immediately felt a deep connection with Toni because we loved the same bands. Emo music was the foundation on which our friendship was built. Even today, music is what deeply connects and sustains our friendship – which has now lasted for about 20 years.” Toni frames it differently, more personal: “I wasn’t an outsider, nor was I particularly introverted. But simply because of the music I listened to and the clothes I wore, I was different in my circle of friends. The music felt so incredibly tangible and alive. It was as if your best friend was giving you the support you needed, singing and shouting your diary entries, wrapped up in the perfect symbiosis.”
A Rose’s Diary ran from 2006 to 2009, shifting from a duo into Jonathan’s solo project when he moved to Frankfurt. They released two LPs, two EPs, and two split EPs during that short window. letters to you existed as a three-piece from 2008 to 2014, leaning into quieter acoustic work and appearing on compilations like “Listen Up, Kids!! Vol. 11”, “Heart Circle”, and “for acoustic lovers // compilation vol. 1”. They collaborated with René Arbeithuber and Chris Neuburger from Slut, something Toni still speaks about with calm appreciation.
Those early recordings came together in basements and small rehearsal rooms. Toni recalls their first EP as a trio: “Our first EP was called ‘True Words of Life’. Back then, we did everything ourselves with the help of friends. We recorded it in Steve’s basement. He was the most musically talented of us. At the time, he was still playing guitar in an alternative rock band called Sesame. Danny sang the songs with the lyrics I wrote. My job on the EP was to play guitar and conduct the songs. A friend designed the cover. For this EP, we teamed up with two members of the band Slut and the actress Julia Maronde.”
Where A Rose’s Diary had the stage — the packed club, the sweaty bangs, the shaky first shows — letters to you stayed deliberately offstage. Toni says it plainly: “We never played a show or a living room concert. I didn’t want to. I just wanted to create music with my best friends by my side.” Their first Myspace DM came from someone named Karla Chuck Knows. The heartbreak song of the era? Toni shrugs in writing: “Hard question. Maybe City and Colour – ‘Coming home’.”
Jonathan talks about emo as something that did the emotional heavy lifting: “Writing and composing was our therapy back then. Back then, all it took was a guitar and everything around you was forgotten. Emo wasn’t just a phase. Even though we dressed in black, looked sad, and cried a lot, there was always hope through the connection to other people who felt the same way.” He still thinks about Myspace as a kind of accidental community builder: “Sometimes I miss those good old days when you somehow had more connection to other people than today.”
The reunion brought its own kind of clarity. Older, families involved, long gaps between messages — yet something familiar still held. Toni’s reflection loops back to the same core memory every time he explains it: “I still listen to the bands from back then. At least the ones that mean something to me. My musical taste has changed over time. But when I put on music on my record player, the living room with its four walls belongs to the music, and you know very well that ‘The taste of ink is getting old / It’s four o’clock in the fucking morning’ can be sung along to. No matter what the neighbors say.”
He repeats the thought, adding a small confession: “Oooh Lord. The Used. My favorite band of all time. Fan since 2002.” And then, one more line that lands exactly where the EP seems to land: “It’s a journey back in time, with all its good and bad moments. But that’s what life’s all about. Anything else would be boring. It’s not a phase. It never was.”
That line sits at the heart of the split EP — a documentation. Two friends who met in a sweaty club in Ansbach, started different projects, stayed connected, and later dug through old folders to piece together something that reflects where they began. The EP isn’t framed as a comeback or revival; it’s more like finding a forgotten message in a Myspace inbox, the kind you didn’t know you’d saved, and realizing it still sounds like you.







