A record from somewhere between the dance floor and a distant memory.
Side B turns a familiar piece of music history into a quiet study of sound, nostalgia, and design. A lone vinyl record sits against a weathered field of mustard gold, its worn grooves, faded label, and imperfect texture giving the piece the feeling of something played, loved, and kept.
Simple at first glance but rich with memory, it’s a tribute to the records that become timestamps, carrying us back to a particular room, a particular night, or a version of ourselves we haven’t visited in a while.
A record from somewhere between the dance floor and a distant memory.
Side B turns a familiar piece of music history into a quiet study of sound, nostalgia, and design. A lone vinyl record sits against a weathered field of mustard gold, its worn grooves, faded label, and imperfect texture giving the piece the feeling of something played, loved, and kept.
Simple at first glance but rich with memory, it’s a tribute to the records that become timestamps, carrying us back to a particular room, a particular night, or a version of ourselves we haven’t visited in a while.
