You could call it folk. Or rock. Or ambience. If you wanted to deny that parts make a whole. It’s realer than that! It is love! Yes, love! That messy gooey thing that we so desperately hope will make us whole. We can all agree on this, can we not? Nate Daniel’s fragile cadence, the tangled network of twisting cables and blinking lights at Dante Berardi’s feet coalescing into reverb-soaked guitar, hemmed in by the sweetness dragged from Caitlin Grieve’s violin while Matt Sullivan moves behind the drum kit like an academic earmarking pages in the ever-evolving narrative of CAIRO’s stories.It’s absurd that four people get along so well. Unsettling, even. But they do. Let the songs make your chest pound. Breathe the whole thing in. Ask nothing of the chaos but let it take from you. It will give back! You will feel whole! This, we promise! And when it is all done collect what you have taken into your hands and press it into a tiny pile called CAIRO.