Reliquary Heat from Warm Case by Solvet

The track pulls into the deep hum of internal investigation, a relentless drive from the first dry snare. It lands right in that late autumn introspection, where the outside world quiets and the internal chase heats up. "Scuff prints stack," "IDs clipped"—these aren't just words; they are the fragments of what drifts, the raw feeling of identity becoming a collection of faint echoes. The Runner pushes this forward, threading these ghostly bits through a feverish percussion, making the whole thing feel like a spiritual ticking clock. The Forger on Rhodes sketches aliases, thin veils over what’s missing, while the trumpet lines flare, then vanish, leaving only a trace of what they questioned. There’s an undeniable pull, a yearning scorched into the sound, yet the bass maintains a tight pocket, a quiet resolve underneath. The whole thing builds to a moment where the meter shifts, a unique eight-bar crossfade, disorienting before it locks back into its insistent groove—a moment of lost footing, then renewed purpose. On stage, this track becomes a raw, almost desperate ritual; the Evidence Board, usually for cold data, turns into a living reliquary, its samples of breath and radio IDs weaving through the live instrumentation, making the "Keep the reel hot, keep the reel true" a tangible, collective chant. It’s a piece that demands listening, a testament to enduring the search even when the answers aren’t out there, but deep within.

We crack criminal cases with grooves that slap. Hard jazz-funk meets unsolved mysteries—catch us decoding cold cases through smoking horn lines, gritty keys, and samples that feel like forbidden evidence. The truth is in the funk.