Maraad’s new album, “BUFF”, is a strange and beautiful paradox, an object forged in the very fire it’s meant to protect you from. Each track is presented as a “buff,” a bit of protective magic for the spirit, but the energy humming underneath feels less like a polished shield and more like the faint, determined glow around a figure in a centuries-old altarpiece—somehow both holy and profoundly weary. This isn’t empowerment as a shout; it’s empowerment as a persistent, low-frequency hum that says, simply, “endure.”
The progressive and deep house foundations provide a relentless forward motion, a metronome for the quiet, conscious fight for survival described in its core themes. You can feel Maraad’s history as a support musician here; he’s not trying to seize the spotlight but to build a floor solid enough for you to stand on. His use of AI as a collaborator feels less like a gimmick and more like a form of modern alchemy, taking the raw, bleeding ore of heartbreak and abandonment and transmuting it into something that can actually hold weight. The result is an emotional landscape that is vast, protective, and achingly lonely all at once.
This isn’t feel-good music for a sunny afternoon. It’s music for the pre-dawn commute after a sleepless night, a chain of anthems for when carrying on is its own quiet victory. It recognizes that sometimes the most profound act of strength is the continuous, simple act of breathing when you feel utterly lost.
The music video was crafted using the evocative visuals of director Thomas Schepps and actress Greta Zappettini, sourced from the Artlist catalog. Color grading and final editing were completed collaboratively by Maraad and Chilean director Felipe Sepúlveda.
The album equips you, but it never lets you forget why you needed the armor in the first place. So when the final beat fades, are you truly stronger, or just more exquisitely aware of the ache?
