
Four tracks of piano-driven torch songs that feel like a private performance in a smoky basement. Raw, queer, and beautifully bruised jazz for the brokenhearted.
It's like finding a 1950s jazz record in a thrift store that was somehow written about your last breakup.
A bruised, candlelit romanticism that feels both ancient and immediate.
The vocals lean notably further into crooning than the rest of the catalogue.
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