Drifting Between Shadows and Light

Tropigloom’s Invisible is a song that lingers long after its final note fades, not because it shouts for attention, but because it whispers something deeper. The project of Canadian musician Andrew Roy, Tropigloom thrives in the hazy intersection of shoegaze, lo-fi, and alternative rock—textures that here feel both weightless and heavy, like the memory of a dream you can’t shake.

From the first moments, the track establishes an atmosphere that’s simultaneously raw and ethereal. Reverb-soaked guitars swell like waves against a foggy shoreline, pulling the listener into a meditative state. Yet beneath the lush, dreamy surface lies a sense of unease. The song wrestles with the desire to escape life’s turbulence and the realization that burying those struggles only intensifies them. This tension gives Invisible its haunting depth, making it feel like both a confession and a release.

What’s striking is Roy’s ability to balance melancholy with subtle flickers of hope. The instrumentation leans into the introspective, evoking shades of The Cure and Slowdive, but just when the weight threatens to overwhelm, the track lifts—hinting at clarity and renewal. Knowing that the song was shaped by a near-death experience only adds to its resonance; it’s not just a piece of music, but a glimpse into survival, fragility, and transformation.

As the first single from Tropigloom’s upcoming EP Everything Now But In Reverse, Invisible sets a powerful tone: nostalgic yet forward-looking, fragile yet resilient. It’s the kind of song that doesn’t just play in the background—it settles into you, quietly reminding you of everything you’ve endured, and everything still worth holding onto.