Following the bold vulnerability of her June release Colorblind, Felicia Temple returns with Alone Together, the poignant second single from her forthcoming project A Soft Place To Land. Produced by frequent collaborator ObieIII, the track unfolds as a soulful, slow-burning embrace, an intimate soundscape that feels both weightless and profoundly grounded.

Temple’s voice, tender yet assured, traces the quiet center of a transcendent connection. It’s the kind of bond captured in vivid, lyrical detail, where “stars in your eyes” become a “permanent high,” and emotional alignment feels instinctive and all-consuming. Over dreamy chords and warm textures, she offers a meditation on what it means to be deeply in sync with someone, even when life forces you apart. “You know my thoughts / Turning the pages, it’s like a book that you read before.” This is love that lives in instinct, not explanation.

At its core is a lyrical mantra: If I have to be alone, I’d rather be alone together. It’s not just about longing for love, it’s about holding space for a bond so undeniable that even solitude feels better when it’s shared. As part of A Soft Place To Land, a body of work rooted in heartbreak, healing, and quiet strength, Alone Together stands as a luminous anthem. It honors the kind of love that doesn’t beg to be seen, but instead offers refuge, presence, and peace, even in silence.

A Soft Place To Land

Alone Together

Obsessive

On & On

Eyes On Me

Closer

Let It Ring

APHRODITE

FEENIN'

Two voices, one story — Lost Without You captures the pain of separation and the pull that won’t let go. A dark trap R&B duet with gospel undertones, it’s raw, haunting, and cinematic. Male and female voices trade lines, echo each other, and collide in harmonies that rise like a choir — a song about being lost, yet still searching for the light in each other.

Lost Without You

Eyes on Me

A distorted transmission from the edge of consciousness.
“Signal Fade” opens the album like a dream glitching into reality —
deep wook-style basslines twist beneath filtered percussion and distant, echoing voices.
It feels alive but unstable; the kind of track that breathes, expands, and collapses within seconds.

The low-end vibrates like an ancient engine —
psychedelic reese morphs, analog grit, and warped stereo motion pull you into the void.
Every wobble feels like it’s searching for meaning in the noise.
No drops for the sake of hype — just tension, movement, and the hum of something awakening.

This is where the journey begins —
where True Verse loses himself in the vibration,
and the sound starts to remember his name.

Signal Fade

Signal Fade

Retro Pulse