Coupé

‘Break up, break up, break up’ sounds like a mantra on repeat - somewhere between a gentle rebuke and a friendly kick in the backside. The vocals whisper about kilometres, empty calls and accumulated troubles, while the chorus cuts to the quick so politely and insistently that one can only agree: better not to call, better not to remind. These phrases convey fatigue, liberation, and a slight irony about one's own drama; somewhere nearby there is light in the eyes, somewhere there are worn-out nights, and in the end there is a clean space for new steps.

The music is like evening cleaning: things are sorted through, unnecessary items are put aside, old grudges are packed into a box and carried out the door. There is warmth in the lyrics, even when the ropes are cut - as if someone gently takes out an old blanket, shakes it well and says, ‘Don't come back.’ Very diary-like - honest, a little mischievous and almost homely healing.