dreams are lonely — a continuous feeling, not a collection of songs.
thirteen songs written on the prairie and finished somewhere after midnight. long exposure, soft drum machine, sodium light off wet asphalt. meant for the drive home when you’re the last one awake.
this record was shaped across different moments. i learned to stop holding on and let the music move me somewhere else.
listen on long drives, with friends, or in the quiet. thank you for being here.
no upcoming shows. the road is quiet.
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nothing on the horizon yet.