Cracked Halo from Clock In by Kigyo

Rain-streaked Megalink hallways lead directly into the quiet ache of this track, where Kida, banished to temp work, raises his dented Lucky Umbrella like a fragile crown. The entire piece paints an aural landscape of damp concrete and unseen currents, built from the shimmer of a chorus guitar, the subtle brush of drums, and airy synth bells that drift through ambient izakaya chatter, creating a bittersweet glaze. This storyline follows his quiet bargaining—each traded secret with the Floaters, every deferential nod to a Chief—a desperate, ritualized effort to regain lost footing. There is a palpable development over the track, mirroring Kida’s journey from self-mockery to a defiant, if bruised, grace. A voicemail interlude cuts through the scene; a Floater’s off-key refrain and sudden, knowing laugh punctuate Kida’s isolation, emphasizing the temporary nature of all connections in this world. The transformation of a cracked halo from a mark of banishment into a sign of stubborn resilience offers a powerful emotional core, suggesting that survival itself can be an act of quiet artistry.

Late-night office salvation through mellow basslines and bitter-sweet anthems. We soundtrack your after-hours escape from fluorescent purgatory—briefcase optional, emotional release mandatory.