A love story with the shadow self. This record walks barefoot through the darker rooms of the mind, where isolation hums, politics bleed into personal truth, and the mirrors don’t always tell you what you want to hear. It Read more
A love story with the shadow self. This record walks barefoot through the darker rooms of the mind, where isolation hums, politics bleed into personal truth, and the mirrors don’t always tell you what you want to hear. It drifts through the rituals we use to cope—denial, neglect, self-pity—then turns and faces the cost: the quiet fractures in ourselves, in the ones we love, in the world just outside the door.
But it doesn’t stay buried there. It rises. What begins in weight ends in a strange, steady light—a philosophy that stares into the void without blinking, yet refuses to be swallowed by it. There’s a grounded optimism here, dressed in cynicism, walking the line between awareness and overwhelm.
Sonically, it moves like a continuous dream—seamless, hypnotic, pulling you under and bringing you back just to send you through it again. The kind of record you don’t just hear—you return to, because somewhere in it, you recognize yourself.