Sometimes a song doesn’t begin with sound — it begins with silence.m One Day in July i had not a single inspiration for a new song, and i asked Tamanna to write me one of her awesome stories.
Tamanna sent a message early one morning:

Let me take you to a quiet place between yesterday and eternity. The story begins in a forgotten city where the clocks have stopped ticking, but a single soul continued to move barefoot on rain-soaked cobblestones, chasing a sound that only she (a girl) could hear. It wasn’t a voice, but rather a heartbeat… interwoven with the wind, echoing from an old record player in a deserted café, through whose windows vines grew like memories that refuse to die. Every night at 2:17 a.m., the song would play, even though there was no electricity, no people, only this melody and moonlight. They said the music belonged to a man who had disappeared after writing one last love letter, sealed not with his name, but with a single feather dipped in golden ink. She is still searching for him. Or perhaps, just perhaps, for the part of herself that once believed in love songs that never end.

Those words became the seed of 2:17, a cinematic Synthtrap ballad about time, love, and the music that refuses to die.

The story takes place in a forgotten city where the clocks have stopped.
A girl walks barefoot across rain-wet cobblestones, following a melody no one else can hear. It’s not a voice — it’s a heartbeat, echoing from an abandoned café where an old record player keeps spinning a song each night at 2:17 AM… though there’s no electricity, no people, only moonlight and memory.
The legend says the music belonged to a man who vanished after writing a final love letter — sealed not with his name, but with a single feather dipped in gold ink.

This haunting image inspired us to weave together Bengali folk instruments and modern electronic textures.
The Sarinda, a bowed instrument native to Bengal, became the soul of the track — playing a D-minor pentatonic lullaby that appears like a ghost three times in the song: at the beginning, in the transition, and again as a fragile music box in the outro.
It’s the melody the girl keeps chasing, maybe searching for her lost lover — or perhaps, for the part of herself that once believed in endless love songs.

Musically, 2:17 fuses emotional Synthtrap, Slavic-Folk-Trap percussion, and ambient rain textures, built around the pulse of a Moog Sub-37 bass.
Charlie’s ethereal vocals float like mist between the analog warmth and digital echo — sometimes distant, sometimes whisper-close.
The result is a sound suspended between dream and memory, loss and faith, earth and ether.

“2:17” is not just a track — it’s a time, a place, and a feeling.
It’s the heartbeat of something that was never meant to end.
Nikko S. Neubauer – October 29, 2025