Rain falls softly over a mountain terrace in Leavenworth, Washington. Inkognito sits under a wide overhang, a blueberry lavender truffle resting untouched on the saucer beside his coffee. Through the open shop door behind him, the tick of a hand-carved cuckoo clock marks the hour.

The low pulse of sean antoni's The Universe Was Made For You drifts from inside — unhurried, grounded, the bass sitting just under the sound of rain on pine. It fits the grey afternoon without effort, the kind of track that asks nothing and gives everything back.