Parcel Lullaby by Barktempo

"Parcel Lullaby" started out because we kept walking. You know, counting sidewalk cracks, like we always do, trying to make sense of things. This time, it was my grandma's first delivery route at dawn, back when she first landed here. It’s all in the hidden footsteps, the echoes still stuck to the curbs of these modern streets. We tried to pull that whole journey into something new – buoyant chill-house grooves built from the ground up with what we found.

You’ll hear it: the leash-click percussion, not just clicks but actual rhythms, sitting on these warm future-garage basslines that just sink in. Snippets of multilingual street chatter, mixed in with her own hums, a proper tactile collage. It starts pretty quiet, that uneasy distance when you're just figuring things out alone. But then, as you keep listening, it just kinda... brightens up. You feel this slow pull towards something communal, a real embrace.

The whole thing unfolds, and you'll catch our signature three-note exhale-whistle. It just floats through everything, mixing with kids’ hop-scotch claps, distant church bells. It really steers the emotion, from that early sense of rejection all the way to something radiant, accepting. There’s a track, "Collarbone Carnival," that just hits you. It’s got these Disclosure-polished synth riffs under a shouted roll call of neighborhood surnames. We want people to add their own family names to that rhythm. It’s meant to be sung, yelled.

Then, three-quarters through, there's "Knees Like Lanterns." We actually stripped out all the drums for a long stretch there. Just the whistle, dueting with a choir we recorded back in her ancestral village. It's a moment, really. Feels like heartbreak and then, out of nowhere, it just erupts into this euphoric four-on-the-floor swell. Like cultural reconciliation, but you can actually dance to it.

This whole album, every single release, it grows out of an actual canine route. For "Parcel Lullaby," we're putting the GPS coordinates of her walk right there on the vinyl sleeves. There’s an AR-enabled map, too. It’s not just music you listen to; it’s an invitation. We want you to trace that route yourself, walk your own histories into the beat. Turn these sidewalks worldwide into a shared metronomic archive. We’re still walking ourselves home, but maybe, just maybe, we can rewrite the walking score of breakups, mile by mile, together. It’s about more than just songs; it’s about making those hidden steps visible, giving them a voice. It’s about the quiet pride in every single delivery, every stride.

Barktempo: We pace out melodies on endless paths. Chill house, future garage, for when you're just walking yourself home.