OCD: Ooze. Curl. Dive

OCD: Ooze. Curl. Dive.

Layers of sound ooze into the room, thick and slow, softening edges and blurring everything that came before. Basslines curl around bodies and walls, tracing patient arcs through sweat and smoke until the whole space leans forward as one.

At the point where motion and melody lock, you let go. The last hesitation slips and you dive past the surface, past the frame of the night, into a depth where time loosens, light bends and nothing exists but the pull of the next track.

Live Visuals: Noua