"the drowning is quiet here" is a two-track descent composed from time-stretched remnants of unreleased songs—emotional ruins dragged through digital sediment until only texture remained.

“pixel angels at the edge of collapse” is the sound of disintegration as ritual: synthetic choirs rise and vanish in procession, like forgotten hymns echoing through a decaying server.

“the drowning is quiet here” moves slower. Heavier. It doesn’t pull you under—it waits until you choose to sink. This isn’t music for catharsis. It’s music for coexistence with collapse.

Listen in darkness. Lie down. Let it pass through you like weather that doesn’t care you exist.

These aren’t songs. They’re places.
You don’t listen to them. You remember being inside them.

pixel angels at the edge of collapse

soft ruin