"March Forth" is Drew Donavanik's melancholic reconnection to the memories of his past. Rendered with pixelated synthetic sonics, tarnished melodies and glitching percussions he creates a cohesive bond between wistful nostalgia and present realities.

Drew Donavanik reflects upon a broken trail of memories that lead him back through paths of dejection and melancholia into the fonder-spirited times of his past.

The melodies of "March Forth" bear brittle edges that have been weathered and chipped away from emotional distress and are rendered by a fever of pixelated digital sonics. Underlying these melodies is the eagerness for reconnecting to a past that has escaped him, and through this album he draws a mass of tenuous bonds that secure this parallel past to his present state of being.

Unfolding his thoughts with "Windows Down, Moon Light On", Drew tailors his melodies with blemished digital swells of tones that produce the aura of lost experiences as though encountered in a recurring dream. Following in the waking moments, "Sad" glumly meanders a grey area of forgotten space with some meager nostalgic hope of resurrecting the past. Diverging from this monochromatic locale, the wistful song "I Remember Driving Fast" lifts warm chords in increasing surges to a field illuminated with glitching pixelated percussions that permit a symbiotic relationship between the past and present.

The brittle veins interlaced in Experience. Hold.'s music render a complex web of interconnected moments, sensations, emotions, and experiences that formulate a technique to initiate the important critical unity between ones own experience and their present state of being.