A specter was haunting the Trio. Its story began in June of 2012, in a session to record in the form of 11 songs the result of an emotional turmoil that was still silently operating. A series of frustrating setbacks started to materialize when the recording was done, from dissatisfaction with the performances, haunted by these turmoils, to technical problems that lead to the re-recording of all the distorted guitars. As none of the songs had actual lyrics – most were just drafts with ideas to be developed later – the next step would be to finish the writing and record the final vocals. This never happened. Death, loss, cancer happened, and all the pain and confusion that come with it. Suddenly, a recording that had already been subject to demotivation became progressively soaked in these new issues each time the attention of those involved turned to it in an attempt to ease their pain. Slowly the album faded from everyone's attention. During this time, the Trio ceased being a creative force, existing solely as a live band. No rehearsals, no writing, only a few intense live performances. But a specter was haunting the Trio, the ghost of an album. Absent, yet real. In the following years, the subject would eventually appear – "we should try to finish that record" – but never turned into reality. Mostly because the idea was always to finish it: return to its problems, fix it, write and record what was missing, return to a canceled past, a time (even more) out of joint. An enormous effort, both emotional and physical. It was only in a casual conversation, when the record was referred to as lost, instead of unfinished, that a shift of perspective occurred. Lost, it became closed, disappeared before turning into what it was planned to be, frozen in time as it was left, as it was lost. Now, nine years later, the Trio can look at it for what it is, not what they wished it to be. Like a bad tattoo from their adolescence, it is a glimpse of a time long gone. When they rescued these recordings from an old hard drive, they faced a phenomenal disorder of thought and feeling that they did not dare touch. And so this is it – revealed with its improvised vocals and lyrics, its untuned guitars and noisy kick drum, its broken narrative and unbalanced tracklist – the ghost of a record that never came to be. A symbol of life's forgetfulness to remind us how horrible forgetting is.