The resulting Still + Storm soundscapes give us something to ease into, catch our breath, and linger over whatever we’re longing for. You’ll hear in the “Break Away” EP, influenced by every sad album ever.
Listening feels like a sonar glimpse into their conversations. Rachel embraces the melancholy, but the net effect does not project sadness. There’s contentment here.
By giving into guitar, wallowing in grunge, Still + Storm don't just envelop you in a moment in time, they plant you firmly in your own here and now. No pop. No saccharine. Nothing fleeting.
But plumb deeper, and you’ll find a world where moments themselves all slip away, unrequited. A constant feeling of getting caught off guard. Like falling, yet the shock and trauma of landing never come.
How deep can you sink into something without forgetting your breath and losing sight of the surface? Still + Storm prove it’s possible to long for the present. Not with trance or meditation, but with enchantment. With a lullaby that keeps you awake.