With LunaRover and their latest single “Little Things”, I found myself suspended in that strange, gelatinous space between being fully awake and drifting into a fever dream. It’s a curious offering from Kevin Rieth and Ben Pelletier, a duo who build their soundscapes asynchronously, sending digital ghosts back and forth across Silver Spring, Maryland.
The track operates like a malfunctioning calmness machine. There is a warm, oscillating progression of chords that loops with hypnotic intent, creating a bed of sound that feels safe, almost fluid. But don’t let the warmth fool you. Just as you start to drift, fragmented, glitching voice samples slice through the air. They warp the texture, adding a layer of rhythmic complexity that feels like a mind trying to reboot itself. It’s electronic art rock for people who have too many tabs open in their brain.
What strikes me most is the emotional payload. While the track navigates the friction of dissociation and the desperate attempt to assert order on a chaotic internal world, there’s this tender thread about loving the minutiae of a partner. It suggests that perhaps the only way to anchor ourselves when reality feels surreal is to fixate on the smallest, most concrete details of someone else. The melancholic vocals balance on this tightrope, oscillating between anxiety and adoration.
It is a digital lullaby that doesn’t promise sleep, but rather a structured kind of haunting. Does the loop hold you together, or is it just outlining the things that are falling apart?
