Tijn Driessen

Tijn Driessen drops his third EP like a heavy sigh, five tracks that crawl through the dirt, trying to make sense of this whole messy thing we call life.

It starts with "Kiemen"—raw, unrefined, like digging into the earth with bare hands. You feel it. It’s not polished, not pretty, but you can't look away. Something might happen, or maybe nothing will. Then "In Bloei" comes, offering a flicker of hope, a bit of warmth—but not without reminding you that nothing's certain. It flows into "Zonnevoeding," where light takes its turn as the hero, pushing things to grow, like how we all cling to the sun for a reason to keep going. And then, just like that, the light slips away. "Verwelking" shows up, draped in melancholy, but with a strange softness, like saying goodbye when you know it’s inevitable. Then you’re left with “Wortels”—roots, grounding you in the dirt where it all began.

Full circle. Life goes on, even if it doesn’t feel like it. 
Eternally infinite.