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The first line of In Airports, Howard’s second full-length album in 2025, references data degradation or “generation loss” as a metaphor for the fragility of memory and mental experience of aging into adulthood. In the context of his greater catalogue, this comparison could serve as a mission statement, a central conceit of his songs. Fittingly, In Airports is a retrospective synthesis of the many disparate genres and sonic ideas that have been explored in his earlier work: Four-track cassette recording, deformed samples and a surrealist approach to production, adjoined with nostalgic and introspective songwriting.

There are hints of a newly confessional approach to lyricism that is plainspoken and direct. On the title track, Howard directly examines his relationship to music-making and how it has changed: “I made it all about me / Is that a tragedy / Used to put my headphones on / Escape into a new song.” This sort of self-interrogation emerges from an obsessive devotion to recording music that now spans more than half of Howard’s life. The omnivorous instrumental approach of his production has only deepened from several years spent taking detours into focused genre experiments. And so, In Airports attempts to re-establish Howard’s core musical affect as it stands today, filtering his older signature through a lens of dubby dream pop, sparse slowcore, and maximalist shoegaze.

It's the longest he has worked on an album, beginning in 2023 and finished only a few months ago: “I sort of underwent a crisis as I became a more confident producer and instrumentalist. The more I could imitate or recreate a sound, the more I would confront demos I'd made and think ‘this is good, but it doesn't feel like it’s mine.’ This was a new problem for me. I scrapped two albums worth of semi-finished material, carrying my personal favorites over to this final release. As a result, it's probably my messiest record, but I grew to appreciate that. It’s a full genre-map of everything I’ve made over the last ten years. I made sure every song meant a lot to me.”

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"A few years ago I found myself stuck in an airport for about a week, spending every day walking around the terminals, watching people come and go. I'd always liked the transient feeling of temporary spaces like that. Being there for such a long time didn't detract from the magic, it only strengthened it. For almost a week, I had no purpose or goals beyond waiting for my flight. I didn't have to do anything, or change anything. Thinking back, I'm not sure I fully wanted it to end.

I think a lot of people live their life in airports. Stuck, waiting for something just over the horizon. Travelers come into their life, and leave when the time is right, but they just keep waiting. I've had a lot of conversations recently about agency and preserving your passions. About not letting yourself drift. Living with a purpose, and avoiding that sense of complacency that creeps in as you age. There's so much we can't control. So much so that it can blind us to how easily we could change. Tomorrow, you could catch that flight. You could go anywhere. You could be a new person. You could leave the airport.

Where does the time go? Everywhere."

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orchidmantismusic.com/tour

found sounds, tape collages, and pop songs about forgetting.

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