New album · 주소 없는 봄

구겨진봄주소 없는 봄

주소 없는 봄 is a Korean album made from twelve letters that never quite find an address: to a mother, a first love, a friend, a grandmother, a father, a winter table, a hearing aid, a moon village, and a night train.

12Tracks

2026-07-17Release

13Language

Album Tracks Listen on Spotify

구겨진봄 / Gugyeojin Bom

주소 없는 봄

Close voice over guitar, bass, keyboards, discreet synthesizer and firm drums: Korean-language narrative indie pop that keeps memory moving.

Spotify · 주소 없는 봄

Tracks Listen on Spotify

Tracks

12 · 한국어

Each track begins in a concrete place: a yard, a classroom, a station, a market alley, a kitchen table, a train seat.

01 어머니께A letter to a mother remains unposted beside perilla flowers, kitchen smoke, and the fear of being read. 2:37 02 첫사랑A classroom, chalk dust, rain on the window, and the sweetness of one candy left on a desk. 2:43 03 친구에게A returned letter and one right shoe keep the trace of a friendship that vanished in the rain. 2:01 04 할머니의 장독An empty courtyard jar still holds the smell of a grandmother's kitchen and a last silent greeting. 2:02 05 고향 역An old waiting room, a stopped clock, coffee cooling beside a letter for nobody in particular. 2:23 06 나무 그림자A sick old tree remembers a father's hand; a letter tied to a branch loosens in the wind. 2:42 07 시장 골목A damp morning market receives one red balloon and a kindness too small to be remembered by anyone else. 2:16 08 겨울 밥상Snow gathers outside while two people sit with soup, silence, old photos, and an unread letter. 2:49 09 보청기A hearing aid on the kitchen table becomes the place where a late apology learns to lower its voice. 2:41 10 달동네A hillside neighborhood disappears, but its soil remains under the fingernails and in a flowerpot. 2:01 11 야간열차One empty seat and two tickets travel through sleeping villages toward an absent person. 2:13 12 봄 편지All the unsent letters gather by a spring window, leaving the address line open. 2:17

About

구겨진봄 makes Korean-language narrative indie pop from unsent letters, old bowls and empty seats. The voice stays close, but the sound is not sparse: guitar and bass, piano and discreet synthesizer, and a firm drum pulse keep memory moving forward. 주소 없는 봄 is less a still recollection than an album about what continues after words go unsent.

Watercolor

The watercolor series keeps the quiet discipline of the recent album sites: large transparent washes, melancholic light, and solitary architecture, translated into Korean colors: wet cement, hanok wood, onggi clay, market green, winter blue, and night-train light.