The romance here is taut, electric, charged with unease and the weight of history. Lyrics circle the wreckage of past decisions, temptation smothered into silence, courage that arrived too late. Regret drifts like smoke, yet hidden in its haze is vitality: a rhythm that beckons the body to move, to dance in spite of burden.
The production itself is a fog of texture: keys warped into whispers, percussion echoing down corridors without end. What first feels remote soon presses close, like breath at the nape of the neck. The tenor at its center binds it together, urging, never consoling. The sound feels lush, otherworldly, yet unstable, forever poised on the brink of collapse. That precariousness is its allure: the unpredictability of a dream where streets dissolve, faces shift, and the heart still recognizes something essential beneath the distortion.







