Sternlumen’s newest track, Red Wine Melancholia, sends one in a turmoil as heavy as one too many large gulps of bodega red wine on a hot summer night. From the moment it starts playing, the song diverges into so many directions that one’s train of thoughts can get lost like a drunkard’s derisory thoughts.

Layers of differently paced piano sounds build up one over another and it’s extremely difficult to even imagine how hands can fly so easily over the keys. For one’s oddly wired brain, it might feel like they’re in the middle of a crowd and there’s something muggy in the air. Everything’s filled with noises, voices, but if you pay attention you can hear bits and pieces of intimate conversations.

But enough with the silly interpretations.

Sternlumen is Thomas and his piano, and they both live in Nørrebro, Copenhagen. After a seven-year break, or rarely touching the piano, Thomas decided finally to sit down and play again.

Whether it’s minimalistic piano, postrock, ambient or modern classical, Sternlumen explores a wide range of sounds that he describes as soundtrack for short films. Those films that roll in our heads while crossing the street and daydreaming on our way to work.

His latest album, a 35-minute journey of self-titled urban melancholy, Sternlumen (2016) seems to incorporate pieces of micro-universes of collective memories.

My Mind Is Not Where I am but Should be hits a peculiar note (pun intended) after the modern classical intro. The rapid pace blatantly pushes one into some emotional vertigo, and all I can say is: good luck.