It possesses a certain melancholy and longing that I admire. That mood is captured beautifully by its illustrations which in rare moments collapse and collide in colourful fractal parallaxes. Despite the flaws I’ve identified, the direction of its narrative surprised me, and its twists kept me on my toes. Like Seers Isle before it, Across the Grooves’ worldbuilding is its strength. It crafts a deep beatnik, classic rock mythology surrounding the record at its centre, and while I often felt like I didn’t belong in that world, I remained intrigued by the secrets it offered. When I finished Across the Grooves, I replayed Seers Isle. Then I began Across the Grooves again. I look forward to Nova-box’s next project as their work continues to delight.

So I’m in danger of overrating Across The Grooves. It’s fairly short, and at only a couple of hours long, you could dig up all its alternative scenes and endings in a long afternoon. It’s more linear and structurally simple than I’d expected, and I was definitely expecting more from the main music. But while it hasn’t truly touched me as deeply as Eliza or Watch Me Jump, it’s given me an unusual angle on time travel and a lot of feelings and thoughts to process. It’s even helped me a little, I think. There are some things that were probably always going to happen, and the only real choice you have isn’t how to fix them, but to either make yourself miserable wondering what you could have done better, or try to salvage a future from the consequences you were left with. I’m glad I got to play it.