There are places where music seems to find you before you have quite decided to go looking for it.

Lonely Orbit comes from one of those places.

Somewhere beyond the last sensible road, where the trees get thicker and the phone signal gives up, Niko has been quietly building a world of his own, one song, one strange sound, one slightly questionable recording decision at a time.

Written and recorded largely alone, Lonely Orbit has grown through instinct, curiosity and a willingness to follow things wherever they lead. Songs can start with an idea and end up somewhere completely different. Small accidents become part of the arrangement. A strange sound appears, refuses to leave, and eventually gets its own chair.

The music wanders freely between psychedelic rock, dream pop, folk, garage and space rock, without being particularly interested in choosing a single address. Melody is always somewhere at the centre of it, alongside a constant urge to explore new ground and see what happens when you stop following the obvious path.

For Niko, recording is as much a part of the songwriting as picking up a guitar. The studio is a place to experiment, make mistakes, keep the mistakes, and occasionally discover that the mistake was the best idea all along.

There is something of the woods in Lonely Orbit, too.

A sense of being slightly removed from everything else. Time moves differently there. You listen differently. You start following sounds you might normally ignore.

The debut album is the result of that process: a collection of songs made without much of a map, but with plenty of curiosity.

Lonely Orbit isn’t trying to arrive anywhere in particular.

It is more interested in seeing what is around the next corner.

Album nr two is on the way with another sonic adventure.