Equinox began as a modest EP before blossoming into a full-length confession in stereo. The title nods to the celestial balancing act of light and darkness—exactly what Laube was chasing while trying to restore his own. What started as recovery music turned into a meditation on equilibrium, wrapped in gentle strings and glowing synths.<br><br>Across nine tracks, he mixes piano, violin, and atmospheric tones into a soundscape so soothing it could calm a caffeinated squirrel—or at least convince one to journal. It’s part symphony, part therapy session, entirely sincere in its pursuit of peace, and arguably cheaper than a therapist.

Laube describes it as the calm between storms—essentially, a poetic way of saying he’s been through it. Compared to his sprawling debut Liminal, which spanned 15 years of creative wandering, Equinox feels more grounded and personal, like the musical equivalent of finally cleaning your emotional apartment. It doesn’t chase grandeur; it settles into stillness.<br><br>Naturally, Laube designed the artwork himself: a winged figure hovering between earth and sky, because subtlety is for those who didn’t major in existentialism. Yet it fits. Like the music, it’s beautiful, vulnerable, and slightly dramatic in the best possible way.<br><br>Equinox is officially released on SoundCloud and Fairmus. Bring headphones, self-reflection, and maybe a blanket—you’ll want to stay awhile.

<p>Estonian-born composer Valev Laube creates a minimalist soundtrack for personal recovery and self-improvement through his album &apos;Equinox&apos;, blending Nordic melancholy with ambient folk.</p><ul><li>Equinox began as a modest EP and evolved into a full-length album reflecting Laube&apos;s journey of recovery and self-reflection.</li><li>The album is a blend of piano, violin, and atmospheric tones, designed to evoke a sense of calm and emotional repair.</li><li>Laube&apos;s new work is more grounded compared to his earlier album, representing a personal and therapeutic exploration of peace.</li></ul>