Bwo

The ring of platinum and the whisper of feigned intimacy - like visiting a jewelry store after a long quarrel with the world: beautiful, but a little cloying. The vocals are a mixture of brave bravado and weary lament, as if someone has put on a reinforced helmet and is racing between cars to prove that they cannot be broken; the road smells of gasoline, smoke, and determination. Here there is both bravado and vulnerability: cries of betrayal turn into a fuse that could explode, and the chorus - the mantra “call me what you want” - sounds like a challenge and at the same time like a sedative for broken pride. It's all about noisy nights, bomber jackets, and the fine line between rage and self-irony; you want to give in to the pull of the rhythm and at the same time not forget to fasten your helmet.