Have you ever paid attention to the shade of the moon between three and four o’clock at night — the light of street lamps goes out, and dawn hasn’t begun yet. So at this time of day it acquires a special shade of blue. And you know who knows this hour firsthand? A singer who chose a pseudonym for herself with unambiguous sarcasm: Aimée, also known as 2nd Brightest Object (2BO). Aimée – in her own words, is “blue, if it were a person.” Sky-blue? No. Azure? Too sunny. We’re talking about a vibrating blue, the kind of color that, it seems to me, precisely describes the silence of insomnia.

Since 2022, she has released three mini-albums – “Stars”, “It’s Tomorrow There” and “Emergent Signals”. And if the Universe had deigned to gift me with an artist’s talent, I would have depicted 2nd Brightest Object in the genre of “The Modest Artist and His Legion.” On the canvas: a girl with a guitar, synthesizer, and an entire collection of inner demons, neatly seated around the microphone as backing vocalists. And I’ll say frankly, this modest company creates more all-consuming atmosphere than some five-person band with a producer costing as much as a small car. I was wildly hooked by the singer’s transparent, ghostly vocal – it literally hovers above the music. And as for the guitars, this is her thing: they always sound slightly “off the mark” – slightly detuned and distorted picking creates such a cool atmosphere – everything is slightly out of focus, but that’s precisely what hooks you. 2nd Brightest Object loves dogs, practices vegetarianism, and reads comics before bed to avoid nightmares.
But enough preludes, I propose we finally move on to the main topic of the review – the new album “One I and Two Es”, which promises to become the perfect soundtrack for insomnia. It was released on February 6, 2026, with the first singles beginning to lift the fog starting November 14, 2025.And not departing from tradition, I’ll share my impressions of some tracks. The first track “Breath” – it begins as a friendly gesture but quickly becomes the noose of addiction (cigarettes or vice). Hazy guitars and a muffled beat speak of self-deception. The calm vocal drifts between tonalities – 90s dream-pop. “Calming effect” changes to “I’ll be your disease,” and the phrase “breathe, breathe, breathe” is an obvious mockery of meditation. A predator-song, and therein lies its charm.

In the track “Love Doesn’t Want Me” the temperature drops – an icy shower of unlove. The protagonist has retreated into sleep-fantasy from harsh truth. Musically, here is skeletal electronics: frosty pads and mechanical drums. 2nd Brightest Object (2BO) sings with doubled, diverging vocals. Pay attention to the finale – a couple of distorted guitar chords convincingly provide the conclusion – reality is still here. But “Give Up Together” offers a kind of truce with reality. The singer emerges from the electronic fog, picks up an acoustic – you can hear fingers touching the strings. The voice is close, without effects. The line “Flowers can’t last forever,” I think, speaks to the fact that everything in life is temporary, everything passes. Smooth guitar lines and a delicate rhythm section frame the track’s space.
“I’ll Find You” returns the former pulse – memory becomes the only compass. Snowfall, familiar songs, the road back assembles from fragments. Synthesizers pulsate in layers reflecting the echo of drums. The voice splits, it seems that 2BO is singing from different times simultaneously. Ghostly indie-rock, where everything is subordinate to feeling, not form. After nostalgia comes paranoia – “Serpentine Dream” tears away all veils. Snakes of metaphors crawl out: lies, manipulations, ambitions that gnaw from within. Guitars cut, bass presses, everything sounds harsh. The distorted vocal becomes part of the noise. “I’ll bend while I pretend” – survival through pretense, the moment of truth arrives – masks fall and emptiness remains.

Aggression grows into civic rage – “Walk On Bye” – focus shifts from the personal to the social. A drowning boy, a mother on the sidewalk, people with eyes in their phones. “You never know who the drowning boy could grow up to be” – not pity, but a warning: indifference returns. Guitars rattle in alternative tuning, vocals are dry and direct, drums hit. Distortion is not an effect, but a diagnosis. “Robbery” concludes the album with a confession: love is like a robbery, dangerous but worth the risk. “Time with you is like a robbery” – you’re both victim and accomplice. The guitar is distorted to the limit, vocals sound as if from a trunk – muffled, but with adrenaline. The rhythm is erratic – an escape not from, but toward love. The track cuts off mid-sentence, a final point that doesn’t want to be final.
2nd Brightest Object works in the tradition of musicians who understand that true beauty lies in the cracks. Figuratively speaking, her songs do not “heal wounds” – they study their shape. She writes, plays, and produces everything herself, and it shows. In the album “One I and Two Es”, you can feel the hand that knows exactly where to press to make it sound right. Here, there is only the moon, smoke, and a voice that says: I know your pain, because I hurt too. And that is enough. Sometimes, second place is the most honest place to be.









