With Edge of the Earth, Aysanabee steps out of his past and into a horizon both terrifying and liberating—a second act shaped by memory while reaching for uncharted skies. The record builds with soft-fingerpicked guitar, swelling into orchestral swoons that feel like a heart opening for the first time.

On “Without You,” he confronts intergenerational grief in a piano-honed eulogy: his grandfather’s absence becoming a kind of wind that lifts him. “The Way We’re Born” is a loose, groove-laced meditation on identity, survival, and how much of ourselves we inherit just by existing. What emerges on Edge of the Earth is a simple truth: the past can bruise you, but it can also teach you how to rise.