SHIMMERING INDEPENDENCE

Samuel Campoli’s “Every Time” feels like the kind of song that sneaks into your bloodstream before you even realize what’s happening. There’s this warm, slow-blooming glow to it — like sunlight glinting off water — built from layered harmonies and guitar lines that shimmer without ever showing off. You can hear the instinctive, almost intuitive way he builds sound: nothing forced, nothing trend-chasing, just a mood unfolding exactly as it wants to.

What makes the track so quietly magnetic is the confidence beneath its softness. Campoli isn’t trying to fit into any mold, and you feel that defiance in the way the arrangement breathes. The psychedelic-pop textures float, the jangly rock edges give it character, and somewhere in the middle is this unmistakable streak of weirdness — the good kind, the kind that makes a song feel alive.

Because he records and shapes most of his music himself, there’s a closeness to “Every Time”, almost like you’re sitting in the room where it was born. Every choice feels personal: the way the harmonies swell, the tropical-psychedelic tint in the instrumentation, the mood-driven pacing borrowed from his film-scoring instincts. It’s dreamy, but not aimless; gentle, but not fragile.

As the first glimpse of his upcoming EP, “Every Time” sets the stage beautifully. It’s warm, honest, and full of soul — the kind of song that reminds you what happens when an artist stops worrying about the world’s expectations and simply follows the spark wherever it leads.