
Eight tracks of murky, tape-hissed indie pop. A skeletal and haunting precursor to the artist's later cosmic sound, recorded in the quiet of a bedroom.
It's like finding a secret, sadder version of your favorite pop songs on a dusty cassette.
A claustrophobic and ghostly collection of bedroom pop that feels like a private confession.
The writing leans notably further into love lost than the rest of the catalogue.
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