Darling / Fault is a quiet, uncomfortable EP written in the moments when speaking feels impossible. It comes from the space where frustration, misunderstanding, and love collide—when every attempt to explain only seems to make things worse. These songs were written instead of arguing, instead of saying the wrong thing again. When walking away felt healthier than staying in the heat of the moment, I chose to sit down and write.
Nobody is perfect. We all carry faults, blind spots, emotional glitches. As much as I try not to show anger or frustration, those feelings are still human. This EP lives inside that truth—the helpless feeling of “I can never say anything right right now”, and the slow, deliberate choice to process those thoughts through lyrics instead. Songs allow time. Time to review, revise, soften, and be honest in a way conversation often doesn’t permit.
The title Darling / Fault holds two meanings. These tracks are written for—or about—my darling wife, but they are also about faults: mine, hers, ours. And like the Darling Fault line that runs close to Perth, these songs sit close to home. They’re not abstract. They’re lived-in, domestic, and emotionally grounded in real rooms, real silences, and real attempts to reconnect.

Built Different opens the EP with defiance wrapped in devotion. It’s a song about masculinity that doesn’t fit the expected mould—choosing presence over performance, care over comparison. Cooking for the family, showing up in quiet ways, and refusing to measure worth against other people’s templates. Beneath its frustration is a plea to be seen for who I am, not for who I’m not.
Emotionally Inept (my glitch) turns inward. This track names the recurring breakdown between intention and impact—the feeling of loving deeply but communicating poorly. It explores neurodivergence without apology, acknowledging the disconnect between emotional volume and emotional processing. It’s not about feeling less; it’s about feeling differently, and still choosing to stay, try, and love through the missteps.
Cut Out of the Frame (retro) sits in the uneasy space of emotional withdrawal. It captures the anxiety of silence, the weight of being physically present but emotionally excluded. There’s no accusation here—only a steady request for presence, for shared ground, for the small joys to return. It’s a song about wanting the family unit to feel real again, not distant or staged.
Left Unread in the Airwaves closes the EP with resignation and quiet heartbreak. When songs become letters that never get opened, when the clearest communication is ignored, the question shifts from “Why don’t you hear me?” to “Who am I writing for now?” It’s about releasing the expectation that these words will land where they were intended—and accepting that maybe they’ll matter to someone else, someday.

Darling / Fault isn’t about blame. It’s about proximity—to love, to flaws, to truth. These are songs written not to win arguments, but to survive them. To say the things I can’t always say out loud, and to leave a record of trying.

Built Different

Brendan M. Sando