Take two! Where the last chapter was shrouded shadows, this one opens in blinding light.
Fin arrives at sunset, DeLorean wheels half-buried in the sand, as if he’s driven straight out of another film entirely (khm, it’s called Steps of Saturn). The beach is too perfect, a sailboat parked exactly where the eye wants it, the sunrise breaking like stage lighting. It’s all a little too relaxing. It feels less like nature and more like a set built to sell the idea of happiness.

So he plays along. Fin takes his seat in a director’s chair, catching the glow. Nothing’s rolling yet, but already the scene is happening, the silence buzzing with manifestation . If happiness won’t write itself, it’s time to fake it, play it out like your favourite scene in a film.

The sound follows suit. Gone is the underground grit of the last act — replaced with salt-skinned guitars, melodies that move like waves, harmonies that smile a little too wide. It’s breezy, sun-bleached, playful, yet edged with the kind of irony that makes you wonder if the script is sincerely that cringe or just really sarcastic.

This project is a tragi-comedy in disguise — a daydream where the pursuit of joy is staged like cinema. Curtain up, roll tape, cue the horizon. The LP title plays its own trick: with ultrasound you glimpse what hasn’t yet arrived — a baby, a future. Beneath the waves, sonar echoes forward too, mapping what’s hidden ahead. This album works the same way, a soundscape that scans tomorrow before it happens.Whether it’s real or not almost doesn’t matter.