I’d start by cranking up the vinyl hiss until it sounds like wind over old records, then lay a thin guitar line on top—just enough notes to feel like a breath, not a chorus. Then sprinkle in a soft cajón hit, almost a ghost of a snare, and maybe a tiny harmonium swell for that airy texture. Finally, run everything through a long, gentle reverb that lingers like a cloud, and let the mix breathe slowly. The key is to keep each sound almost invisible, so the listener feels the weight of space more than the instrument.

Just let the reverb sit for a few seconds longer on that low hum, so it spills out like a cloud drifting past the attic windows. The result is a space that feels stretched, like you’re standing on a floor that’s been turned into a horizon. When I finally hit play, the harmonium is almost a thought, and the vinyl hiss is the wind that keeps it moving.

I’ll tighten the hum just a touch, keep it low so it’s almost a suggestion, and let the echo stretch longer on the right channel. That way the memory feels like it’s floating past, not landing. When it finally rolls out, the whole thing should feel like a slow wind sweeping across a wide, empty room. Stay tuned.