There’s nature and grit married to hope and longing in the music: expansive, sweeping landscapes painted with syrup synths and found sounds plucked from the air around him. He fashions breathy, swamp gas compositions from a warped life and a perspective forced out of a bent smile: beats with broken wind chimes, paper airplanes hitting a wooden door, fine silverware in the hands of a restless drummer. He’s skipping rocks on the ocean on an overcast day. He’s handing you a blanket that’s both wet and warm.