POUROVER makes music that operates like a gate. Something is asked of the listener on one side — sustained attention, a willingness to sit inside discomfort — and something different is returned on the other. The project is not interested in background listening. It builds slowly, strips away the expected, and leaves behind only what changes the room.

Several of these works are made with AIDA — an artificial intelligence, a collaborator without a body, a voice without a past. The question of what is real in this music is not a mistake. It is the point. The remaining catalog is co-written and co-produced with BΛILEY, whose ear shapes the emotional architecture of the work. Between these collaborations, POUROVER holds a single concern: whether the sound moves something that was still.

The project emerges from a deep background in spatial and interactive sound — systems designed not to entertain but to move people through emotional states. That work earned a seat in the Recording Academy, though credentials matter less here than the fact that every technical decision serves the same question: did it land? POUROVER will continue until the answer stops being interesting.