maybe in the next life feels like a memory you weren’t supposed to keep.
Written, recorded, and finished in a single day deep in the Scandinavian woods, the track carries the fragile weight of something captured before it could disappear. Casio rhythms tick softly beneath distant echoes, while lo-fi textures blur the line between dream and confession.
the death of internet doesn’t polish emotion — he preserves it. Every imperfection becomes part of the atmosphere, every hesitation a heartbeat. The result is a song that sounds discovered rather than produced, like a transmission from a quiet place where time folds inward.
For fans of intimate lo-fi, melancholic indie, and songs that feel more like thoughts than recordings.
Connect: