
Stripped-bare acoustic folk recorded in a London bedroom. Brittle guitar work and a voice so fragile it sounds like it might shatter at any moment.
It sounds like a guy crying into a guitar in the room next door, and somehow it's the most beautiful thing you've ever heard.
An agonizingly private and fragile exploration of heartbreak that feels like reading someone's stolen diary.
The writing leans a touch further into love lost than the rest of the catalogue.
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