Waves that were never there open the set — a sea imagined before the first kick drops, in a city that doesn't have one.
House is the one language I trust without question. Straight 125, harder than I usually go, but I never let the coolness leave it — Rain, After The Rain, a groove built to breathe, not to burn.
Even a house set carries Detroit in its blood. Some tracks don't answer to genre.
At its center, 小林清美's さよなら惑星 ～かぐや姫の涙～ — a song of despair I still hear as hope, slowed down until it fit inside these 125 beats.
Toward the end, tracks from friends I trust completely carry the set home. Their sound is part of why this mix exists at all.
No car from here reaches the sea. But a car stereo, a speaker at home, a pair of headphones — any of them can still hand you the same coolness, and still make you move.
That's what house is, to me. It doesn't need the sea to bring you the sea.
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