Under the Misel Quitno moniker, Dimitri Grimm (aka Dimlite) sets aside his ornate prog–hip-hop–jazz–electronica productions for something leaner and more immediate. No elaborate arrangements, no samples lifted from other records—just sketches captured for the pleasure of sound itself. Grimm calls it “drafts… the score to an imaginary Super-8 film, or a sample library made for the fun of it,” and that spirit threads the whole record. Dry, minimal aesthetics hold a mixed bag of ideas together: wafting synths, knuckles on wood, layered guitars, the odd tuba—textures that could soundtrack a lost 1960s avant-romantic psycho-tragicomedy. It’s playful, tactile, and unpretentious: music-as-notebook, where small gestures add up to vivid scenes.