I hear: grinding resin, distorted loons, slide whistles, reversed organs, digital pianos with dying batteries, payphone calls from the Mariana Trench, voices autotuned to raindrops, an unsure violin, dirges, lullabies, french chansons sawed in half.

Soft melodies, nostalgic and optimistic, high sheen. The music wants to lull you and wake you. Between the two is a beautiful place to be.