jangling indie warmth, clattering heartbeat drums, and a voice learning how to forgive itself in real time

come back (when you feel like) by every other weekend arrives soft at first, like someone opening the garage door just enough to let a little light in. then the guitars start jangling, the drums shake off the dust, and chris bull’s voice steps out honest and unguarded. it feels like the start of something returning to life. the kind of song that doesn’t try to hide the cracks, choosing instead to let them ring.

born from years of silence, loss and slow rebuilding, the track carries a beautiful sense of fragility wrapped inside familiar indie textures. you can hear the garage in the sound, the old recording gear once used by his father, the history humming beneath every note. the production stays loose and human, full of clatter and warmth, like a band finding its footing again after a long winter. it is intimate in the way only home-made music can be.

the lyric feels like a hand on your shoulder, a reminder that leaving and returning are both part of being alive. “a hymn to self-forgiveness” he calls it, and you can feel that completely, the sense of breathing out after holding everything in for too long. it is gentle, patient, quietly hopeful.

come back (when you feel like) is the sound of someone remembering who they are, slowly and beautifully.

thank u for making this every other weekend 🌸