Vic Bang's "Oda" arrives quietly - it was waiting for the right moment. The eight tracks are shaped by listening, by circling around sound instead of chasing it... you can definitely hear patience in the pacing, a willingness to let ideas linger, to let all the small motifs breathe.

The album moves with a softer and more deliberate rhythm than much of Vic's earlier work, as the sound world here feels concentrated and cohesive, built from a limited set of elements that gradually reveal themselves. Melodies unfold without too much fuss, textures repeat and mutate very subtly and the whole record holds together like a single extended thought.

The title Oda - or "ode" in English - hints at devotion, but not in any grand or ceremonial way. These pieces seem devoted to sound itself: to tone, to gesture, to fragile and simple musical forms. There's a gentle melancholy running through the album, but also clarity, even tenderness. Each track is dedicated to something - a timbre, a rhythm, a resonance - living up to the title's etymology.