#jazz #lofijazz #smoothjazz #studyjazz #nightjazz
The otters never planned a set.
They just wandered in—scarves damp, coats heavy, eyes glowing under the streetlamp.
One tightened the snare.
Another adjusted the sax, gold glimmering under the dim light.
The bass hummed low, steady like a heartbeat.
Lo-fi chords drift.
Brushes on drums sigh.
A midnight trumpet leans into the silence.
For night drifters, late workers, and dreamers who listen closer when the world is quiet.
No stage. No spotlight. Just otters. Just jazz.
