Hold On (feat. Hoody)

Primary's production glides on a bed of muted guitar strums and brushed percussion, creating a hazy late-afternoon warmth that feels like sunlight filtered through thin curtains. Hoody's voice is the centrepiece — honeyed and unhurried, carrying a quiet desperation that the track's relaxed tempo refuses to dramatise. She sings about clinging to a relationship that's quietly unraveling, and there's something heartbreaking about how calm she sounds doing it. Primary wraps her in subtle jazz chords and a walking bass line that lends the whole affair a sophisticated melancholy — the kind associated with someone too composed to cry in public but fully aware they're losing something irreplaceable. The production breathes without crowding her: sparse hi-hats, a barely-there synth pad, occasional piano notes floating in and out like stray thoughts. Lyrically the song occupies that precise emotional zone between acceptance and denial, where you know the end is coming but still ask the other person to wait. The Korean indie-soul crossover here is particularly refined, Primary at his most restrained and most effective. For early Sunday mornings when you're replaying old texts and trying to decode exactly where things went wrong.