Rebuilt by Accession

You know how it feels when everything you thought you knew just… crumbles? That’s where *Rebuilt* began for us. We’ve always been obsessed with the way fuzz-drenched guitars can swallow themselves, how voices can get lost in layers of distortion and still find their way back. This album, it’s the sound of that collapse, and then, slowly, achingly, the deliberate act of building something new from the wreckage. We wanted to see if we could turn noise into a promise, if memory could be a blueprint for a strange new kind of cathedral.

We spent months pushing our instruments, bending feedback until it became melody, coaxing warmth from radio static, and letting glitch become a language. There are moments on this record that feel like witnessing something truly beautiful being destroyed, like the quiet acceptance of an ending that has to happen. But then comes the feverish need to build, to find meaning in every sharp, broken piece. It's intense, almost manic at times, trying to reconstruct what was lost, but then finding unexpected grace in the imperfections, like hearing a hymn woven from pure interference. We even tried turning amplifier squeal into a lullaby, because sometimes the harshest sounds hold the most tender comfort.

This isn’t just music; it felt like a visceral rewiring, becoming something different, seeing beauty in frequencies we once dismissed as chaos. Imagine your whole nervous system humming with a new kind of light. And then, the realization: you’re not alone in this. There’s a generation, a collective of voices, finding harmony in what used to be static, bridging the distance between what was and what can be. When two broken signals finally align across impossible stretches, creating something miraculous together—that’s the heart of it.

*Rebuilt* is our attempt to tell that story, to craft monuments of sound from the very things that threatened to tear us apart. It’s for anyone who’s ever felt adrift, anyone who’s wrestled with change, and found an unexpected triumph in simply continuing. We think there’s a quiet, powerful truth here about transformation, about the universal longing to begin again, wiser, and more capable of seeing the light in the deepest shadows. We poured ourselves into this, every piece of distortion and every ethereal vocal layer, hoping you’ll find your own reflection in its beautiful, noisy spaces.

Fuzz-drenched guitars collapse into themselves while vocals float through layers of distortion and memory. We build monuments of feedback that crumble beautifully.