F.O.M.O
It takes a strange kind of clarity to turn quiet frustration into movement, and that’s exactly what Tarn PK achieves with “F.O.M.O”. There’s no scream here, no dramatic rebellion, just a sense of being slowly hollowed out by routines, spreadsheets, and the suffocating sameness of grey cities. The New Zealand artist isn’t offering an escape from all that, but rather a mirror: sleek, melodic, and saturated in the low-key dread of standing still while everyone else seems to be sprinting ahead. What’s most compelling is how personal the track feels without leaning into confessional tropes. Tarn names the fear, rather than dressing it up, fear of missing out, yes, but also fear of being forgotten, of stagnating, of being the one who didn’t leap while others climbed. The music rides this tension, switching from internalised murmur to expansive breakbeat catharsis, giving the illusion of motion even when the feeling remains stuck. It’s music made not to resolve the dissonance, but to name it, trace its outlines, and let it hum in the background like fluorescent lights on a bad day. This isn’t a soundtrack for quitting your job. It’s for the moments when you can’t.