The EP opens with I Dream That I’m Not Sleeping (Prelude), a soothing piece where tape-delayed Classical strings intertwine with Blu Aloé’s whispering voice, inspired by the dreams of surrealist poet Paul Éluard.

Like Evian Water begins with a delicate violin composition underscored by a droning cello bass, balancing softness with a poignant tension between beautiful sadness and hope. The violin’s high notes gradually dissolve into ethereal spheric tones. A held breath — a moment of suspended stillness that lingers before the track gently descends into deeper, grounding tones that offer a soft release like an exhale.

The gently chopped, ethereal pad in the beginning of Soft Blade hints at what’s to come — a transition from classical themes to a more contemporary approach. Sharp synthesizer sounds blend with a field recording from the Australian coast, building layered textures that mirror chaotic emotions before retreating into quiet, ordered sequences. Despite the harsh, blade-like synths, there’s a lingering tenderness and fragility.

Entropie takes this further with distorted noise of signal interferences and a live recording of an organ performance at Kölner Dom that disrupts the sense of comfort. Shrill highs contrast with rumbling droning waves. A sudden buildup reaches a climax with chaotic, disorienting sonic layers before abruptly halting. This leads into an eerie, pitch-shifting AI voice, echoing the nocturnal musings of Claude Cahun before the tension fades.

Like Evian Water (slowed + reverb) provides a contrasting closure with its ethereal drone, resonating softly through the space like a healing balm after the previous track’s intensity. The persistent reverb, combined with the rich texture of the reel-to-reel tape machine sound, imparts a sense of warmth and peace, grounding the listener in a deep, meditative stillness, bringing the EP to a serene and tranquil resolution.