Strange to dream of you forever
Even though I am wide awake
The internet has abolished one of heartbreak’s few mercies: absence. Distance once allowed an attachment to lose oxygen, but the person we cannot stop thinking about now remains permanently available behind glass: photographs to revisit, timestamps to decode, and small signs of life that can be mistaken for an invitation to reminisce. Longing begins to resemble shift work, maintained around the clock by a thumb moving across a screen while the body waits somewhere else.
That continuous state of checking and conjecture lies at the center of 24/7, the latest single and video from Pissoir des Dieux. The collaborative project brings together Larissa Iceglass of Lebanon Hanover, Vincenzo Wieczerzynski of Chaos International, and Owen Pratt of Uncanny Valley. Following their 2025 debut single, Hotel Grand Amour, the trio now announces their self-titled debut album, due September 28, 2026, through Fabrika Records.
24/7 begins with lightly strummed acoustic guitar and Iceglass’s breathy singing suspended in airy reverb. The arrangement is stripped down and emotionally exposed, carrying a bittersweet warmth without smoothing away its unease. Around the fifty-second mark, broad drums enter with a gentle crash as a thick, repeated bass figure gives the song a more regulated gait. Acoustic materials and machine-minded repetition begin working together, like an old mill keeping time at the edge of a forest.
Near the two-and-a-half-minute mark, the bass drops into a deeper, slower, and more melodic sequence, turning the song toward something private and difficult to recover. It feels like watching an old home movie whose people can still move but can no longer answer. Bright guitar notes rise and fall through the closing passage, tracing small points of light like fireflies moving between the trees.
Beneath that gentle surface, Iceglass describes attachment as a form of dependency. The absent person persists through photographs, clothing choices, questions about their safety, and even the condition of their keyboard; ordinary details accumulate until browsing becomes a self-administered dose. There is dry humour in the specificity, but it only makes the fixation feel more intimate. The phrase 24/7 becomes both a schedule and a diagnosis.
Iceglass extends that idea into the video she directed and edited. Presented as grainy 4:3 camcorder footage, it carries date stamps for July 23 and July 24, 2025. Scenes from a birthday gathering at a country house—friends in the garden, rabbits in an enclosure, a dartboard, and an outdoor meal—alternate with close shots of Iceglass singing alone in a dim interior. At times her face is fully visible; elsewhere it appears as a pale fragment caught within a narrow strip of light.
During the final passage, Iceglass leaves the house and enters the water beside a small dock, eventually lifting a glass above the surface. The footage possesses the factual appearance of a family tape, but its emotional status remains unresolved. It could be remembrance, fantasy, evidence, or the kind of saved material repeatedly replayed after direct contact has ended. The camera preserves a summer day with ruthless efficiency while the song considers what that preservation does to the person who cannot stop looking.
Watch the video for 24/7 below:
Pissoir des Dieux announce their eight-track self-titled debut album, arriving September 28, 2026 through Fabrika Records. Mixed by Owen Pratt and mastered by Schwebung Mastering, the record includes Hotel Grand Amour, 24/7, and six additional songs. Limited black, opaque, and pink vinyl editions are available, with each pressing limited to 500 copies.
Listen to 24/7 below and pre-order Pissoir des Dieux here.
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