
A skeletal reimagining of Billie Holiday’s Lady in Satin. Just a raspy whisper and a nylon-string guitar recorded to dusty, hissing tape.
It sounds like a ghost playing Billie Holiday songs on a dusty guitar in the middle of the night.
A fragile, ghost-like intimacy that feels like eavesdropping on a private moment of grief.
The writing leans far further into love lost than the rest of the catalogue.
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