Wall Paper (Torn Down) (2026)

This is a small, intimate EP that leans heavily into atmosphere and emotional weight.

The whole thing feels gentle and reflective, built more around mood and slow-building arrangements than direct hooks. There’s a real sense of patience here. Even when the songs expand, they never lose that close, personal feeling. The music often sits somewhere between folk, ambient music, psychedelia, and chamber pop, creating songs that feel less concerned with immediate impact and more interested in slowly drawing you into their world.

A big part of why it works is Dilbeck’s voice. The performances never feel showy or oversized. He doesn’t do more than the songs require. Instead, the vocals stay connected to the emotional core of the material, allowing the sadness, uncertainty, and beauty of these songs to speak for themselves.

The overall tone and sound had me think about bits and pieces of Trent Reznor, Elliot Smith, and John Lennon songs.

“Looking Back” is a haunting opener that immediately pulled me in. It sits somewhere between ambient music, folk, and something almost baroque at times, while a touch of psychedelia drifts through the arrangement. The double-tracked vocals and subtle effects create an atmosphere that feels nostalgic and slightly dreamlike, as though memories are being filtered through time and distance.

“Garage Rock” is anything but what its title suggests. The song feels like a distorted funhouse-mirror reflection of a melody. Effects bend and obscure the gentler parts of the arrangement, yet somehow the emotional center remains intact. No matter how much the production twists and warps the song, the melody continues to shine through. When the song rises, those lifts land exactly where they need to.

“Sing to Me the Words You Cannot Sing, Play for Me the Thoughts You Cannot Think,” might have the longest title, but it also provides one of the EP’s most beautiful moments. The song begins quietly, with a feeling that reminds me of being awake just before dawn. As layers slowly accumulate, the music grows brighter and fuller until it reaches a gorgeous wall of sound. Then, just as suddenly, it strips everything back again. It’s a lovely piece of music that perfectly captures the EP’s commitment to atmosphere and patience.

The title track, “Wall Paper (Torn Down),” serves as the centerpiece. At ten minutes long, it’s a genuine slow burn that gradually expands into something much larger before dissolving into ambient noise. It’s ambitious without becoming self-indulgent, and the emotional thread remains intact from beginning to end.

What I appreciated most about Wall Paper (Torn Down) is how completely it commits to its mood. Nothing feels rushed. Nothing feels forced. The songs unfold at their own pace and trust the listener to meet them where they are.

The result is a thoughtful, emotionally resonant EP that lingers long after its brief runtime is over.

Verdict: Worth a Spin

Explore more from Coleson Dilbeck

Official Site | Spotify | Bandcamp

Leave a comment