Starchini surfaced. An alter-ego from the dark recesses of the collective subconscious, a signal that formed itself into sound before anyone thought to name it. Part myth, part late-night frequency no one remembers tuning into.

Starchini builds transmissions at the threshold between human emotion and synthetic logic. IDM, ambient, cinematic electronics. Each track scans the listener, probing for something the machine cannot name, in frequencies the body recognises before language arrives.

Boards of Canada's warped pastoralism and Plaid's crystalline mechanisms ghost through the circuitry. The sound belongs to neither. It belongs to whatever woke up when the studio lights went dark.