Deconstructed grime that splutters and spurts.
The three pieces here are often punctuated by seemingly random bits of YouTube dialogue. Those on "In Medias Res"—"I'm very tired," "She doesn't fight it," "What happened!?"—suggest a familiar, timeline-borne apathy. The strings plucks are unsteady and erratic, and the cellos slide grimly alongside them. Sometimes a rhythm takes hold, but the beat often stumbles or drops out. A few sound effects aside, such as the surprised yelp that stands in for broken glass on "Do I Stutter," this is more or less how the other tracks proceed, too.
The music's sense of progress is constantly stalled, either by yawning gaps of silence or phrases that sound as baffled as the listener might be. "What is that?" asks someone with a thick Scottish accent on "See Through Me, I Dare You," either in confusion or disgust. The cruelty of Raime's music once lay in visceral, angsty soundscapes sculpted from familiar psychic terrain. Now, it's in a foggy reality too few saw coming.