There’s something about the diminishing quiet of this song that draws me into the subterranean chase of its music box clatter. The Bjork touchstone seems obvious, but its not forced or even earnestly parroted. She doesn’t have the range and seems less interested in doing a floor routine with her vocals than in curling through curious and coy paces. The sound parallels the work of Little Dragon (no relation) in that they both seem to be working with R&B out of its modes and moods, complicating the traditional subject matter and glacially arresting the genres movements with slipper beats and elongated ambience. The VCR and the dated recording equipment add to the artifactual elements of the song, which, ironically, sounds like a perfectly shaped, delicate piece of pop architecture. The lush room fabrics and casual observers further deepen the song’s intimacy, making it seem like Josefine Jinder just shuffled her way up to a cozy coffeehouse open mic. It’s a security blanket song and an easy ease into the weekend.
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