A lone guitar sets its chords down slowly, with room around every one.

The voice arrives close and unhurried, sitting low and almost conversational against the chords.

Underneath, the bass is already wandering its own melodic line, answering more than keeping time.

Late in the verse the singing leans a touch harder, and the guitar presses up beneath it.

Then the verse exhales — the chords ring out and the sound thins to a held quiet.

The floor gives way in one blow: distorted guitar, bass and drums land together, and the voice comes back torn open.

The harsh voice charges in short bursts, the band biting back through every gap.

The riff never sits square — it tilts off the downbeat and snaps back, heavy but with real bounce.

Voice gone; the guitars keep grinding the figure out on their own.

The distortion drains away, and the soft voice floats back in over quiet chords.

Under the calm singing the low end quietly fills back in.

Back down it comes — the same jabbing figure, the torn voice riding it again.

Voice out once more, and the kit and guitars hammer the figure between them.

Everything empties out: a small guitar figure, a far-off voice, and space all around it.

The phrases stretch long now, held notes hanging in the gaps between them.

Beneath the last held lines, pressure gathers — the low end swelling, the floor filling back in.

Now the whole weight settles in for good, the churn steady while the voice pushes across it.

One short line circles over and over while the riff churns underneath.

The last chords land, ring out, and drain into silence.