This second volume plays like a film score written for the hours after midnight, when the city thins out and every reflection on the windshield looks slightly out of focus. Glassy synth pads sit beside guitars that bloom into grainy, overdriven walls, while drums arrive with a stiff, mechanical snap that keeps the pulse steady beneath the haze. Vocals drift between intimate and distant, often sitting deep in the reverb tail as if the room itself is listening. Rap cadences cut through in places, roughening the surface and reminding you how close pop and noise can sit. The mix leaves generous air between layers, so quiet passages feel as loaded as the loud ones. It suits slow transit, unfinished thoughts, and long stretches of staring at nothing in particular. Let.