Kind of nocturnal, melancholic and delicate, - hard to think of it when the sun hits outside. A debut into homogenic delicacy of seven instrumental partitures, with some light shadows of progressive and a proper mark of slow-core style soundtrack. Composed by piano teardrops, minute sized programming, gentle guitar sounds, bass serpentines, and by a continuous attention for details, this album runs fast as a long interlude, so that You might press playback and read a good book, or just open a window to watch the city lights at night.
Žmp3 [via Psychotica rec]:
not yet, probably nobody cares, or nobody cared enough to tell something. Also: nobody reads komakino.
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