garden
A hypnotic fusion of brooding darkwave atmospheres and glitchstep’s shattered, erratic rhythms, anchored by sub-low bass that throbs like it’s coming from inside the body, Songs refuse straight lines—they loop, fracture, and reassemble in spirals, blooming open and imploding again instead of leaning on predictable verses or choruses, Tempo stays languid and seductive, drenched in flickering digital artifacts, hyper-detailed sound design, and a ritualistic precision in every layer, Operatic baritone vocals, ghostly murmurs, sliced-up phonetic shards, treated less like melody and more like another shimmering texture, The result is a dense, nocturnal, almost mythological listening experience that feels like sinking into a shadowed ceremony--intimate, alchemical, and heavy with transformative energy
the temperature dropped too fast dry air sucked my skin out i clawed at my face fastened blankets around me only to suffocate in sweat it was too cold to let you in it was too cold to let the cat in it was too cold to let the air in it was too cold to let the cops in it was too cold to let the cleaners in it was too cold to let the next tenants in too cold to anything but watch to hang, suspend, cocoon in amber lost in famous walls buried in a swamp fleeing the perpetual victimhood of the western soul in its garden of earthly denial to hell with poverty i'll get drunk on your mind
