B-Side Guys

In the fifteen-minute expanse of “turadh,” a boy named fox crafts a meditation on impermanence that flows like water finding its level. This self-recorded epic weaves Korean shoegaze textures with post-rock’s patient build-and-release dynamics, creating a composition that feels less like discrete movements and more like watching the tide reshape a coastline.

The lo-fi production choices serve the material’s raw emotionality, with single-take recordings lending an documentary-like immediacy to the performances. When the lyrics declare “with my grace slick, you fall / god finds her coward honey / broken on the floor,” the unvarnished vocal delivery transforms these words into field notes from the aftermath of collapse.

Drawing inspiration from both Scottish and Pacific Northwest mythology, the track’s structure mirrors its thematic preoccupation with relationships that drift and reform like coastal fog. The imagery is appropriately aqueous throughout – “you’re water to your core” becomes both description and diagnosis of a person who cannot be contained. This water motif builds to the devastating observation “you said to me, you’d rather the sea / ’cause when you drown, there’s no misery.”

The song’s gradual evolution eschews traditional verse-chorus structure in favor of a more tidal approach, with instrumental sections that surge and recede like waves against a shoreline. When the final movement arrives with “Auriol / let’s lay in the sun / where we know everyone / they’ll forgive all we’ve done,” it feels less like a conclusion than a temporary respite, a moment of warmth before the next inevitable change.

“turadh” demonstrates how extended song formats can serve emotional storytelling, using its quarter-hour runtime not for technical showmanship but to fully explore the lingering ache of watching relationships dissolve and reform across time. It’s a reminder that some feelings can’t be condensed into three minutes, and some wounds take longer than a pop song to examine.