Even before the first note is played, this project feels like an attempt to understand time not as a line, but as an interwoven tapestry – as something that settles within us, forms layers, and breaks open again. Three tracks, three eras, but just one question: what does a moment sound like that has never quite passed? VEK, ESP and Rockers feel like three spaces with different atmospheres, all revolving around the same question: What does time feel like when you don’t measure it, but remember it? VEK sets the first tone, a late-90s twilight still living off the unfulfilled promise following the fall of the Wall. Here, the future doesn’t feel abstract, but visceral, as if it were unfolding at its own pace before everything accelerated and the world shifted into a state of constant presence. ESP shifts the perspective to the 80s, though not as a retro pose, but as a personal archive. Between warm pop hues and the subtle tension of a decade that was always teetering on the brink of a possible tipping point, a state of limbo emerges that speaks more to memory than to style. Rockers, finally, reaches even further back: a 70s feeling of boundless possibility, before history became something one looks back on. Together, the three tracks form a triptych about inner periods of time, about eras as sensations, not as dates. In the end, what remains is less a stylistic image than an inner atlas: three tracks that show that time does not pass, but sounds. Available from tomorrow, 1 May.