Pacific Northwester Drew Sullivan is the man behind the Slow Dancing Society and on his latest album, he interrogates nostalgia with clearer eyes while sculpting analogue glow, treated guitar and patient ambience into scenes that breathe. Tracks drift like headlights through snow - hums, howls, bass rumbles, rain-veiled keys all feature, each motion subtle, deliberate and devastating. The record's power lies in restraint: chord changes feel meteorological, melodies arrive as messages, then vanish. It's ambient music with a spine, grief without spectacle. By the time 'Blue Suburban Skies' lifts into Twin Peaks-levels of ache, Sullivan has rebuilt a world you want to hide away in forever.