Povl and I walked into a room with almost nothing. One piano, one voice, a few bells, the occasional breath of electronics. And somehow we came out with a world. That's the alchemy I keep chasing, the moment when the minimal becomes the infinite. Life in Life is eight songs that transform as you listen. Something starts as a whistle and becomes a bird call and becomes a frequency you can't quite name. I stop being a singer and become a language that was never spoken before. Povl stops being a pianist and becomes a place. I've always believed the voice has no edges, that it can reach into the natural world, into invented tongues, into the sound of a single cell dividing. On this album I got to test that completely. What surprised me was how much space Povl held for that. We traveled on parallel lines, meeting where it mattered, staying ourselves throughout. Neither of us disappeared into the other. That tension is where the music lives. Eight tracks. An arc from opening to rise. A suite that breathes and shifts and, if you let it, takes you somewhere you didn't know you needed to go.