Chasing Thunder in the Dark

Scott’s Tees’ We Move As Fast As Storms Allow feels like stumbling into someone’s half-remembered dream and realizing they’ve turned it into music before it could fade. There’s a tender scrappiness to the track—an honest, bedroom-born kind of magic that can’t be faked, no matter how polished a studio might be. You can practically sense the Tascam recorder humming in the corner, catching every breath, every ghostly harmony, as if the song itself were whispering its way into existence.

What makes the track glow is its balance of grit and softness. You hear that alt-rock weight—those Pearl Jam and Soundgarden shadows drifting underneath—but it’s woven with a gentler folk thread, something intimate and inward-looking. The harmonies in the chorus don’t just lift the song; they widen it, like a window thrown open right before a storm breaks. It’s raw, sure, but that rawness feels intentional, like part of its charm is the unfiltered emotion.

There’s also a sweet bravery in the simplicity of the project. One person, one bedroom, one dream—yet there’s a universe pulsing beneath the lo-fi edges. Scott’s Tees isn’t just writing a song about dreams; they’re making something that feels like one, flickering and vivid and a little bit vulnerable.

We Move As Fast As Storms Allow doesn’t rush. It lingers. And by the final note, you kind of want to linger with it too.