Gi Gi describes his process as “dubwise sampledelia.” It begins with fragments and ends somewhere else entirely, destabilizing its source material until it stops pointing backward. A borrowed sound, looped and bent, eventually forgets where it came from; it stops referencing anything but itself.

This liquid sensibility shaped his earlier work, music that hovered between drift and propulsion, suggesting the dance floor without fully stepping onto it. Presence was implied, edges stayed soft. The center was always there, but diffused like mist on a screen.

With In Lieu, that center comes into focus. Half written in Texas, half in Australia, the shift isn’t simply geographic, but internal. The record moves with a coiled, anticipatory energy; the drums arrive with more force and the bass organizes the room instead of melting into it. It's dense with the feeling of more bodies in the frame. Textures still smear and refract, but they move around a clearer axis.

Where past records circled their core, these inhabit it, pulling closer to the body. “Some Of” and “Arque” lean into low-end pressure without abandoning his instinct for drift. "Pink Dirt" circles around mechanical drums and dizzying vocal chops, head-down and visceral. Elsewhere, voices gain newfound contour, materializing in “Downswept” with intimate musings and nearly forming a lead vocal on the title track before dissolving again.

In Lieu moves with a newfound confidence, compressing inward, sounding closer to the source of its own pulse.