
Okay, real talk—if insomnia had a soundtrack, it would sound like Light, Remembered. Nashville’s own Adam Bokesch somehow turned not being able to sleep into something absolutely gorgeous. This isn’t your typical “ambient” album that just hums in the background while you stare at the ceiling—it’s like floating through your own late-night thoughts, but with a better score and less existential dread.
From the jump, the album feels like it’s moving in slow motion, but in a way that’s intentional—like he’s trying to show you what peace actually sounds like. You’ve got these lush layers of piano, synths, strings, and brass that swirl around you, and if you listen on Dolby Atmos (which, yes, you should), it’s basically like being wrapped in a cozy sonic blanket that also makes you think about your life choices. It’s chill, emotional, and kinda trippy all at once.
Bokesch used to be a drummer touring with indie bands like Milktooth and The Daybreaks, and you can totally hear that rhythm in the way he builds tension—even when nothing “happens,” it still moves. It’s that kind of subtle pulse that keeps you from drifting too far away. And then the strings? Absolute chef’s kiss. Eleonore Denig, Emily Rodgers, Cara Fox, and Kristin Weber give everything this warm, cinematic vibe, while the horns from Roy Agee and Tara Johnson sneak in and make it feel like sunrise after a long night of overthinking.
My favorite part, though, is that this whole project came out of his own experience with insomnia. He literally said, “It’s about slowing down in a world that rarely allows it, and finding art, reflection, and healing in the liminal space between waking and dreaming.” Like, okay philosopher-king, go off. You can totally feel that—every sound feels intentional, and the whole thing plays like one long exhale.
It’s wild that this guy used to make music for Tesla, ESPN, and Microsoft, and now he’s out here helping us all chill out and maybe cry a little. Light, Remembered feels personal but universal, like that moment at 2 a.m. when your brain won’t shut up—but somehow it’s beautiful.
If you’ve ever felt wired but exhausted, inspired but drained, this album gets it. Bokesch isn’t just making ambient music; he’s building a mood, a headspace, a little pocket of quiet in a too-loud world. It’s deep, dreamy, and exactly what you didn’t know you needed on your late-night playlist.
Listen to Light, Remembered on Spotify here.
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