a noir soaked swell of tension, instinct, and gathering dread

there’s something in the wind enters like a warning you can feel before you can name it. scott swain builds the track with a slow, cinematic patience, letting atmosphere pool in the corners until the air thickens. inspired by the unsettling world of stephen king’s misery, the song drifts between safety and danger, care and control, reality and delusion, capturing that fragile moment where you know something is wrong but cannot yet see the shape of it.

based in london, swain leans into a dark indie rock palette shaped by queens of the stone age, radiohead, the smashing pumpkins, and unkle. guitars hum with unease, the vocals arrive layered and spectral, and the drums, played by jack g wrench, strike with a measured intensity that unsettles more than it resolves. chris coulter’s production gives everything a taut cinematic weight, a blend of rawness and precision that mirrors the track’s push and pull between intimacy and threat. the song feels like a slow building storm, ready to break yet stubbornly holding its tension.

released as a standalone single, there’s something in the wind lands as an atmospheric statement of intent. it is moody, deliberate, and deeply immersive, the kind of song that stays with you long after the final fade.

thank u for making this scott swain 🌑