
Eight tracks of tape-saturated slowcore that sound like a fading memory. Murky, fragile, and deeply isolated bedroom pop for the dead of winter.
It sounds like a cassette tape you found in a puddle that somehow still plays the saddest songs you've ever heard.
A profound, quiet loneliness that feels like watching the world through a frosted window.
Fog saturates this record a touch more than the artist's norm.
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