Expanded and remastered versions of 3 vinyl-only albums by Tor Lundvall, and 2 out-of-print CD releases. For fans of Ryuichi Sakamoto & Alva Novo, Angelo Badalamenti, Boards of Canada, Grouper, Akira Yamaoka (Silent Hill); Pet Shop Boys, Depeche Mode (circa-Violator), David Sylvian, early-O.M.D., Cocteau Twins. To commemorate the quarter century anniversary of Tor Lundvall's selfreleased debut, Passing Through Alone, Lundvall and Dais have joined forces for a fresh 5-CD box set of long out-of-print titles, vinyl-only releases, and unheard bonus tracks: There Must Be Someone. Spanning 33 years, the collection showcases the subtle but striking evolution of Lundvall's sound, from brisk autumnal synth-pop to desolate dark place devotionals to fragile winter moon meditations and beyond. What remains constant is his exquisite sense of mood and movement, qualities reflected in his iconic oil paintings of willowy figures amidst luminous, liminal landscapes. The box set begins with Passing Through Alone, Lundvall's first fulllength, issued in 1997 on his Eternal Autumn Editions imprint. Engineered, mixed, and co-produced by his brother Kurt, and sold primarily at Lundvall's gallery exhibitions, the album is an intriguing entryway to a world still dawning. Brooding and melancholic but distinctly more linear and melodic than later work, the songs flirt with the fringes of new romanticism, sketched in his signature palette of synth, sequencers, guitar, drum machines, and hushed, spectral voice. Next included is an expanded edition of the eclectic 2010 collection Ghost Years, an array of stray singles, alternate mixes, and compilation tracks dating between 1995 to 2020. It's bracingly varied but effectively immersive, showcasing Lundvall's sharpening gift for spatial dynamics and icy minimalism. The other three discs are inaugural CD editions of a trio of Dais vinyl titles from 2018 to 2021: A Strangeness In Motion (Early Pop Recordings 1989-1999); A Dark Place; and Beautiful Illusions. The first is an archival anthology of material predating his debut, bedroom synth-pop born of solitude and the supernatural, alternately anthemic, wounded, and windswept. The latter two are shadowy recent full-lengths capturing Lundvall at the height of his powers: refined, remote, revelatory. Reflecting back on this vast body of work is "strange and bittersweet," but Lundvall finds a common thread and hidden mission within its long and winding road: "The music is a journey through my desire and longing for inner peace, the elusive search for love and struggling to make sense of it all. It's a diary of passing through a life filled with illusions and disillusionment, often unchanging, but haunted by moments of beauty and magic that hint at the promise of a better world beyond this one."