In the hidden areas of New York City, Almost Morning is building a sound that is more like a private transmission than a performance. Almost Morning is a nocturnal architect, working mostly in the dead of night, turning her home studio into a lab for her dark and minimalist alt-pop sound. Her latest release, the seven-track EP “halfen,” is a lesson in “minimalist melancholy,” where the space between the notes is as significant as the notes themselves.

The EP begins with the song “Sad”. It doesn’t just not with a beat, but with a single, clean pluck of an electric guitar that has a slight “twang” to it, followed immediately by a deep bass note that seems to be vibrating from the floorboards. It’s a heavy, still atmosphere. “Sad” is a brutally honest examination of the paralysis of depression, the moments where you are physically stuck in one place while your mind roams through the wreckage of the past. But it can also mean a character who is slowly forgetting her partner, intentionally or unintentionally. The theme is the “comfort of the familiar,” examining how we often hold on to our sorrow because it is the only thing that has not abandoned us. Musically, the song features “slow-burn” dynamics. The sound is minimal, with the emphasis on the space between the guitar chords and the slow, deliberate drum beat that kicks in on the first verse. The vocals are also “unfiltered,” with the singer maintaining a low, gravelly tone that is like a late-night confession. The result is a heavy, earthy sense of empathy; it doesn’t try to lift the listener out of the darkness, but instead sits right beside them in it.

Next is the song “Talk To You”. This track breaks the stillness with a rhythmic, muted “thumping” sound, reminiscent of someone knocking on a wooden door, which quickly blossoms into a bright, disco-influenced synth melody. It is an immediate injection of “nervous energy.” In a stroke of genius that is both repetition and control, Almost Morning’s “talk to you” is a hypnotic meditation on the power of silence. The song forsakes showy drama for the quiet power of an emotional shutdown, that empty, heavy place where the task of responding to the world, or even checking in with oneself, is an impossible feat. Instead of fighting the silence, the song embraces it, with sparse beats and lots of space that somehow convey the weight of withdrawal. It perfectly encapsulates the panicked inner monologue of an individual desperate to close the widening emotional divide. The musicality is “synth-pop” perfection, with a pulsating bass line and “shimmering” electronic details that flutter across the stereo image. The vocal delivery is nimble and frenetic, reflecting the urgency of the lyrics with a rapid-fire, almost melodic rap delivery in the verses. The effect is one of kinetic identification; it distills the racing pulse of contemporary longing, leaving the listener invigorated and understood in their most “obsessive” moments.

At number three, we have the song “Let it”. The intro features a faint, ambient sound of wind or “rushing water” that gradually cross-fades into a gentle piano progression consisting of three notes. It is almost like the musical equivalent of a sigh of relief. In terms of lyrics, “Let It” is a lesson in the art of surrender. It is all about the critical point where you realize that you are fighting a losing battle, whether it is a job, a habit, or a person, and learn to trust the “natural flow” of your life. The subject matter is the “beauty of the ending,” which implies that every “letting go” is actually an “opening up.” The character in the song refuses to be immovable even when any movement made will fail, this is the kind of uplifting messages that will encourage listeners to take risks eve if it won’t serve them, The song is lush and “atmospheric-indie.” The music includes “swelling” synth pads and a light, syncopated drum beat that seems to be floating. The vocal delivery is smooth and otherworldly, with harmonies layered in the chorus that give the singer the effect of being a choir of one. The effect is deeply calming; it’s a “reset button” for the listener’s nervous system, urging a state of peaceful acceptance rather than frantic control.

Next is the song “4ever As One”. We move into a quick, rhythmic “shaker” sound. Is the theme the “unbreakable thread”? The recognition that some bonds are so profound that they feel as if they have been in place for centuries. It is the exploration of “soul-twinning,” the notion that two completely separate lives can become so entwined that their rhythms are the same. It is a song about the comfort of being completely understood and still being completely loved. The musicality is “indie-folk/synth” through and through, and it is as cinematic as it gets. The vocals are as “heroic” and belted as they get here, and they exude an unbridled joy. The overall effect is one of complete emotional uplift, serving as the “light at the end of the tunnel” for the EP, leaving the listener warm and connected.

Up next is the song “Ouroboros”. The song begins with a raw, distorted “feedback” hum that quickly resolves into a heavy, industrial-sounding drum beat with a “metallic” and cold feel. It is a jarring, deliberate “wake-up call” for the listener. The theme is the “vicious cycle”: the Ouroboros snake devouring its own tail, representing our propensity to return to that which wounds us, simply because it is what we know. It is a dark, psychological examination of why we are our own worst enemies and the frustration of realizing you are “haunting” your own life. Musically, it is the most “alt-rock”-sounding track on the album. The music is aggressive, with “growling” bass synths and staccato guitar “stabs” that feel like they are slicing through the mix. The vocal delivery is raw and intense, with the singer using a “distorted” vocal effect at times to drive home the feeling of being “broken.” The overall effect is one of “productive discomfort,” forcing the listener to examine their own toxic patterns to leave a lingering, edgy impression long after the track is over.

The song that follows is titled “H8 missing You”. This track opens with a stinging, high-pitched “beep” (like a heart monitor), followed by a deep, trap-influenced 808 bass and a “snappy” snare. It is an “attitude” intro that commands attention right away. The message is about the “anger stage” of the healing process. It is about the anger you feel when you are “stuck” thinking about someone who doesn’t deserve the space in your head. It is about the battle between the “logical” part of your self, which wants to let go, and the “emotional” part, which is still grieving. The “H8” in the title is a shield against the pain of longing. The musicality is sharp, polished, and “modern-pop.” The instrumentation is sleek, with emphasis on the interplay between the heavy bass and the “ticking” hi-hats. The vocal performance is sharp and rhythmic, with a certain “swagger” that conveys the artist taking back control. The result is a fierce sense of catharsis; it’s a song for when you’re sick of being the victim of your own emotions and are ready to transmute that sadness into fuel.

The finale opens with the gentle, natural sound of a single, sustained bell chime that fades into a minimal, “spacey” synth melody that seems to be climbing. In terms of lyrics, “Wake” is “the morning after” the emotional storm of the EP. It’s about the “awakening” of the self, the moment when you finally emerge from the “half-state” (the Halfen) and into a full, clear version of your life. It’s about the strength of the human spirit and the power of simply being. The music is “wide-screen” and cinematic. The instrumentation begins with very little and swells into a glorious, orchestral crescendo complete with “stadium” drums and a screaming guitar solo. The vocals are most “luminous” and pure, reaching for high notes that seem to be clearing the air. The effect is one of complete “resurrection.” As the final note holds and the “ambient air” is restored, the listener is left with a sense of deep peace and the knowledge that they have finally “arrived.”

Almost Morning is, in fact, a “Diva of the Internal”; she can convey the sounds of the mind when the world becomes too loud. Her talent to make “creative burnout” and “emotional withdrawal” sound like a “legendary art form” is what makes the Halfen EP so unique. Since it is my first collaboration with her music, I have been given the best possible starting point. The way she combines the textures of her home studio in New York City with such a high level of “legendary” musicality is exactly why she will be almost unique in 2026.

Stream the “Halfen” EP on Spotify

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