Bedroom electronics dissolve into slow, corroded loops on this self-released 2022 record, where degraded textures and soft percussion build a kind of private mythology around memory and late-night isolation. The production sits deliberately lo-fi, cassette warmth bleeding into digital drift in a way that feels less like aesthetic choice and more like emotional necessity. Melodies arrive incomplete, as if half-remembered, and that incompleteness is exactly the point. It has a small-hours feel, when an incomplete melody can seem enough to fill the room.