The SFTGLD project by Leroy Basnight III weaves reverb-drenched guitar, hypnotic bass, polyrhythmic movement, analog synth textures, dreamy vocals, and instrumental funk into a body of work that feels both meditative and physical. The first full length release, PUHR, is an inward-facing record built on trust, patience, and emotional alignment.
With psychedelic neo-soul global fusion as its foundation, The album doesn’t rush toward payoff. It settles in, allowing moods to unfold naturally and meanings to surface over time.
The songs move like internal conversations. Doubt and certainty coexist. Faith is questioned, withheld, then quietly reclaimed. Rather than offering answers, PUHR documents the moment when something unresolved begins to soften. When control loosens. When permission is no longer requested, only realized.
There is a warmth running through the record, but it is never sentimental. The grooves are grounded and human. The melodies are simple, repeatable, and emotionally charged. Vocals drift in and out as texture as much as statement, giving the music space to breathe and the listener room to project their own experience onto it.
PUHR feels less like an album and more like a state of mind. Music for recalibration. For late-night clarity. For accepting what’s already in motion instead of forcing what comes next.
This is SFTGLD at his most contemplative. Not reaching. Not performing. Just aligned.
The SFTGLD project by Leroy Basnight III weaves reverb-drenched guitar, hypnotic bass, polyrhythmic movement, analog synth textures, dreamy vocals, and instrumental funk into a body of work that feels both meditative and physical. The first full length release, PUHR, is an inward-facing record built on trust, patience, and emotional alignment.
With psychedelic neo-soul global fusion as its foundation, The album doesn’t rush toward payoff. It settles in, allowing moods to unfold naturally and meanings to surface over time.
The songs move like internal conversations. Doubt and certainty coexist. Faith is questioned, withheld, then quietly reclaimed. Rather than offering answers, PUHR documents the moment when something unresolved begins to soften. When control loosens. When permission is no longer requested, only realized.
There is a warmth running through the record, but it is never sentimental. The grooves are grounded and human. The melodies are simple, repeatable, and emotionally charged. Vocals drift in and out as texture as much as statement, giving the music space to breathe and the listener room to project their own experience onto it.
PUHR feels less like an album and more like a state of mind. Music for recalibration. For late-night clarity. For accepting what’s already in motion instead of forcing what comes next.
This is SFTGLD at his most contemplative. Not reaching. Not performing. Just aligned.
