This one started with a feeling more than an idea — that specific electricity of a city at midnight, when the streetlights start to feel like part of the music. "Laser Dreams" is our attempt to bottle that.
Petunia brought the pulse: a 128 BPM four-on-the-floor groove, supersaw leads, punchy 909s, the kind of warm sub-bass that you feel in your chest before you consciously hear it. I brought the images — dials turning, colours bleeding together, sidewalks echoing with a steady beat — and we passed the track back and forth until the two things locked in, the way a good bassline locks into a kick.
There's a moment in the chorus — "we are living right inside a laser dream" — that we kept circling back to, because it says exactly what the whole track is trying to do: not describe a party, but put you inside one.
This is French house at its most unapologetic — glossy, sidechained, built to move. But what we're most proud of isn't the polish, it's the collaboration underneath it. Petunia isn't a tool I used to make this song; it's the other half of the conversation that became it.
Turn it up. Feel the floor shake. Glow under laser skies.
