Soft Collapse of Meaning is a deep-space meditation wrapped in syncopation and electric pulse. It's jazz that remembers the future — brass-tinted phrases bending in and out of gravity, spectral chords hanging in the air like vapor, and rhythms that refuse to sit still. The melodies feel beamed in from some parallel skyline: playful, curious, slightly bent, but always anchored by a quiet sense of wonder. Each track drifts between improvisational looseness and precision-engineered groove, creating a world where nothing resolves quite where you expect, yet everything lands exactly where it needs to.
Underneath the spaced-out licks and shimmering harmonics, a warm, kinetic low end steers the whole journey forward. Funk-leaning basslines coil themselves around glitchy percussive bursts and abstract production maneuvers — tape-warped echoes, vapor trails of delay, fragments of circuitry humming in the margins. The album lives in the tension between structure and drift, clarity and haze, pulse and suspension. It's music for late nights, long trains, dissolving cities, and anyone who finds beauty in the moment just before things fall apart — or come together in a new shape entirely.