Foggy, legless, halftime electronica from London’s Casha Mour. This song feels to me like the last song you hear in your head after a long night of jovial drunkenness and playful flirtation, right before your head hits the pillow and you drift off with a smile. To me, it’s mostly an articulation of the inherent optimism of nights like that, and the way those loosest of friendly human interactions can stoke the heart embers. But there’s a touch of sorrow there too, as there often is in a night like that—for all the warmth of those nights, the platonic or superficial nature of those encounters and relationships is also often a reflection of the absence of intimacy.

Fittingly, this is from an EP named Dreamware, Casha Mour’s latest, out now on bandcamp, or for streaming. I’ve also included a gloomier, witchier tune of his from last year, the lead melody of which has been stuck in my head for days. No bandcamp for that one, unfortunately.

Casha Mour – “Never Want Someone” (sc)

Casha Mour – “First Life” (sc)