
Sparse, sub-two-minute vignettes recorded with a laptop mic. A fragile and deeply private collection of anti-folk sketches about distance and the quiet ache of leaving.
It's like reading a stranger's very sad, very short poems while they play guitar in the next room.
A fragile, unvarnished intimacy that feels both lonely and deeply comforting.
The instrumentation foregrounds acoustic guitar a touch more than the catalogue usually does.
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