Music remembers what people edit out.
Vinyl Saints is an old record shop near Low Road Station, the kind of place where forgotten sleeves, white labels and half-remembered club nights gather dust until someone is foolish enough to play them again.
When a damaged mixtape resurfaces from a legendary night at Sequins Discotheque, it brings back more than music. Old friendships tighten. False memories begin to crack. A missing voice waits in the dead wax, and the people who were there must face the possibility that the best night of their lives was built around something they were made to forget.
As Halewick's strange correction pressure creeps into records, flyers, lights and sound, the past starts playing back through the speakers - raw, imperfect and impossible to clean away.
Because some songs are not nostalgia.
Some songs are evidence.