The album opens with spacey, pulsating synths enriched by an ethereal vocal choir. The sounds have the quality of that new synth demo presets, the kind designed to instantly persuade you to buy it. If you are into synths (or not) you probably know that feeling that captures the cycle of collecting: the endless pursuit of that synth patch good enough to justify yet another purchase, even when you lack the time or energy to fully explore the capabilities of your already vast collection. This could be one of these sounds. Right in the start of the album.
What follows is a surprise: an acoustic guitar and an expressive vocal take center stage, underpinned by dreamy keys. Think of early Vangelis works like the La Petite Fille de la Mer theme, a soundscape that will make you drift away.
Click pause and brew a cup of tea. This one is going to be cozy. And we feel it’s better enjoyed alone. Turn off your phone. If you are close, look up and gaze at the stars. Music on again.
With some minimal piano chords, the vocal delivery blends with the steady atmospheric ambiance. If you are lost, the electric keys will bring you back, with that familiar inviting I-IV arpeggio that keeps on for ever. The vocals maintain this dynamic: clean and deep in the verses to keep you grounded, yet drenched in reverb during the chorus to intentionally make you feel lost again.
Next is an lullaby but one without words. It features an intimate guitar—as though played privately just for you from the empty chair next to you, complemented by heavenly sounding pianos and melancholic, organic synths that beautifully fill the remaining frequency spectrum.
As you look through the window, the music shifts to rhythmic guitars and sweet, organic synths with a strong retro feel. The atmosphere is now laced, in parts, with optimism, supported by harmony-rich vocals.
Many artists attempt to create a unique sound and niche genre by intentionally blending disparate elements. However, pushing too hard can kill a track’s authenticity. The true challenge lies in achieving that unique blend while ensuring the music remains unforced and the creative process feels natural. Ultimately, genres are only relevant to genre maniacs. For the average listener, all that truly matters is whether the music evokes an emotion. One More Day specifically but also the whole album in general, captures this balance perfectly.
It is the end. The piano comes from a distance, subtly detuned, almost broken to some ears. But to you, it is your piano, the best one ever. Its intimate sound, blended with the organic textures of the surrounding space, the moving water, the air, the birds, serves as the grand finale. Grand, not in energy. Grand in its simplicity.
Follow My Lovely Haunting
Instagram
Follow our Spotify playlist Sonnets for the Big Screen feat. My Lovely Haunting
This review was made possible by SubmitHub
Secret Eclectic 