
Sparse fingerstyle guitar and a sandpaper whisper recorded to tape. A dusty, intimate collection of folk vignettes that feels like a private transmission.
It sounds like a guy playing guitar in the room next door while it rains outside.
A quiet, dusty nostalgia that feels like looking through a box of old Polaroids in a dimly lit attic.
The production is built around stripped back than this artist usually allows.
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