Clockwork Courage by Photorust

We’ve always been drawn to the way memory fades, how it frays around the edges like an old photograph left in the sun. It’s a messy business, recollection, and our music has always been about leaning into that decay, letting sounds corrode and warp. With *Clockwork Courage*, we found ourselves exploring something a little different: what happens when those brittle, half-remembered fragments meet something new, something digital? This album is basically that conversation, a tentative dialogue between our old rust-kissed upright piano, hammers taped, producing those papery thuds like fingers rifling through brittle albums, and these luminous digital echoes that shimmer into existence around it. It felt less like crafting tracks and more like watching a story unfold, an arc from a quiet, almost nervous apprehension to something that felt like unshakable courage.

You’ll hear our usual slow-motion swells of bowed electric guitars, notes smearing through spring tanks built from rust-eaten lunch tins, leaving those copper-halo rings we’ve gotten used to. And yeah, the reel-to-reel decks are still threading yesterday’s rehearsals, the tape gently sanded while spinning, making earlier motifs bleed back in warped, ghost-pitched shapes. But this time, there’s a new voice in the room. We found ourselves letting toy-box percussion clatter around, typewriter rhythms tapping out patterns, and these algorithmically colored microtonal chords emerge from scanned Polaroids. It was a surprising shift, allowing technology to be a co-conspirator rather than some sterile, distant force. It felt... mischievous, really. We weren't just playing; we were watching humans and machines slowly learn to trust each other, sometimes through playful nudges, sometimes through moments of genuine fear.

There’s this particular moment on the album, an emotional peak where a delicate music-box loop, sampled from an old family keepsake, finally manages to escape its warped cassette cage. It starts small, hesitant, but then just unfurls into this soaring, major-key crescendo. It’s the kind of sound that feels like stepping into sunlight after spending too long in the dim glow of memory. We also ended up with this jaunty, whistle-ready piano theme, backed by shimmering e-bow guitar, that just sticks in your head. We weren't trying for anything viral, but it's got that replay quality, embodying the whole spirit of reconciliation we were chasing. We’re still dedicated to our tactile devotion to erosion – destroying at least one melody forever, as is our house rule – but blending that signature tape decay with melodies that are, frankly, irresistibly clear, felt like a necessary step. It’s an album about confronting that inherent decay, not just accepting it, but finding something bold and clear within it. We’re not sure if it’s a classic, but it felt important to us. Hopefully, it resonates.

Photorust: brittle piano, bowed strings. We make music from fading pictures, rust on every note.