Graceless Resurrection
A slow, smoky exhale in a dim-lit chapel. Baritone voices echo like prayers half-remembered, rising from the ruins of something broken but not gone. Gothic textures and post-punk shadows drift through the air—Peter Murphy, Nick Cave, Mark Lanegan—each song a step through grief, doubt, and the strange beauty of persistence. This isn’t a triumphant return. It’s a resurrection without grace: raw, weathered, and still reaching for light.