supported by
  • Includes high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more. Paying supporters also get unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app.

     name your price




compiled in the mid summer months, a largely ambient exploration driven by each other's ideas. we'd give each other a quote or phrase and we'd make tunes out of them from across the country.

you can listen to victor's other music at


released 25 October 2014

tracks 1, 3, 6, 7, and 9 performed/produced by logan archer
tracks 2, 4, 5, 8, and 10 performed/produced by victor florence
mastered by logan archer

track 1 contains multiple samples including "nothin'" by coma cinema, "boy" by alex g, "never meant" by american football, "ready, set, go" by boards of canada, "a life of possibilities" by the dismemberment plan, and "promise" by alex g, none of which belong to me and belong to their respective owners.



all rights reserved


feeds for this album, this artist
Track Name: Moonlight (LA)
I could feel the vibrations in the rails through my feet. The tracks were warm and solemn, and grey as old river stones. Smooth to the touch. I balance awkwardly as I walk on one rail, placing one foot after the other slowly. The lifeless landscape swallows the darkness of the night as I start to see the train coming, a thin aura wilting over the horizon. It’s a dark and vicious machine, a mechanical wonder. Crazy how these things still run the same way after all these years. It was a freighter, I would see all the orange and yellow stripes had it not been so dark out. The tracks under my feet aching with pressure, I instinctively touch where my wallet had once been. I feel the moonlight in my stomach, and it’s cold. The rail keeps me warm though, like a mother’s kind of warmth. Comforting kind of warmth. No one can see me, I think to myself. Not a soul.
Track Name: Curtains (LA)
it wasn’t clean. it was a house full of spiders. something was rattling, like loose change in an earthquake. I came here to tell you something but I forgot it once I opened the door. The tv’s on and it’s playing old sitcom re-runs and static. the curtains are closed, the show is over. there’s nothing but lust and fading photographs of you laughing. a forced aura. a shadow’s reflection on your bedroom wall. there’s laundry to do, smells to get rid of. strings for the sad parts. a light at the end of a tunnel that fades and blurs into nothingness. the curtains are closed, the show is over. it was fun while it lasted.