Bloomsday turns Artichoke into the kind of song that feels newly unavoidable, like a track everyone somehow heard before you did. The hook lands fast, and the title alone has enough bite to stick in your head all day.
Guitars blur at the edges while the rhythm keeps a dry, forward shove; the mix sounds close-miked and a little sun-faded. Voices sit inside the grain instead of on top of it, which makes every chord change feel tactile and immediate.
On a workday commute or a late-night walk, Artichoke fits the moment when the city feels slightly unreal and oddly charming. The song rewards repeat plays without asking politely.
