Splinter Grace from Forgotten Keys by Softstroke

The hollow quiet of a grand, forsaken space shatters into a display of raw, defiant grace with this piece. It captures the moment the lone spirit, refusing to be defined by ruin, begins to craft a makeshift crown from the brittle keys of a forgotten piano. Musically, a fierce syncopation drives through, propelled by the percussive insistence of prepared piano slaps, echoing the snapping ivory, while deep bowed double-bass growls underscore a nascent strength. The very air seems to shift, from hesitant whispers into an assertive, almost guttural declaration as the piece progresses. There’s a palpable sense of reclamation here, a defiant claiming of self amidst rejection, which evolves through the shifting, irregular meters that tumble and reform like fragments finding their place. Listen for the gritty intimacy of the felt piano, the metallic whisper of brush drums, and the ancient hum of throat-sung textures, all braiding into a soundscape of primal vigor. This isn't just a song; it's the audacious self-coronation of something broken, yet fiercely beautiful, an undeniable assertion that even from shards, a new dawn can be crowned.

We found our sound hiding in empty buildings where pianos gather dust. These forgotten places whisper stories through cracked windows and weathered keys, and we translate those whispers into music that moves between silence and breath.