Patrick Conway crossed the threshold to find a new hope. This is his third offering for the ESP Institute. On side A, 'Loss' sets an overall melancholic tone for the record. A single repeating high note on the piano establishes a guiding element, which is eventually supported by a tear-jerking yet resolving chord progression, a trailing choir of angelic voices, and a filter-modulating synth that pads the widest zones of the mix with the occasional counter-melody. Robust in and of itself, Patrick’s melodic arrangement floats gracefully over an otherwise antagonistic rhythm section built from his signature corroded dancehall arsenal. This hornets nest of boxed live kick drums, piccolo snares, and high-pitched toms is held together by a dry veneer of saturation, sitting at safe distance from but in natural harmony with the bulbous low-frequency atmospherics. On the flip, 'Silencio' employs a similar statement at the top of each measure, this time an anthemic polyphonic synth stab as opposed to the singular piano note, however, unlike the layered melodies throughout 'Lost', here Patrick explores the narrative possibility of negative space—call and response, rhythmic dialogue, and the implied notes that leave the listener’s or dancer’s intuition to complete a phrase. In the game “musical chairs,” children run around manically until signaled to find a chair, at which point their diverse personalties must urgently synchronize, until set free to run again and repeat the process. Patrick's approach for 'Silencio' conjures said metaphor—his melody and rhythm are unleashed to meander and spasm within the confines of each respective bar, until that anticipated synth stab unifies everything “on the one”—controlling the chaos, calling on muscle memory and affirming logic. These two songs will be with you always as they always have been.