If Izzy Hagerup's new album, "System," seems uncompromising from the outset, it's because it was never really intended for the general public. Released under her alias Prewn, Hagerup describes the album as a "public diary." Across nine striking tracks, the album recounts a deeply personal journey into the heart of depression, a journey constantly punctuated by moments of humor, selfishness, and introspection—a tension that gives it a unique identity. Following "Through The Window" (2023), a collection of songs that Pitchfork hailed as a "striking example of Hagerup's ability to tame ugliness," "System" sees Hagerup delve even deeper into the labyrinth of the night. Written and recorded entirely by Hagerup, mainly during long sessions in her room where she worked into the early hours, lulled by the birdsong, the album explores the thoughts that often assail at that nocturnal hour: guilt, shame, and self-centeredness, as well as the social pressures that cause them. Born on the floor of her room in the dead of night, through a tangle of cables and complex emotions, "System" became a testament to dissociation, but it is counterbalanced by a certain lightness compared to what came before. It does not surrender to the darkness; it explores it with a sharp and curious gaze, and through that obscurity, it ceaselessly discovers the beauty and richness of life. This journey holds a particular strength. There is courage in it, a struggle that never invites you to look away, but rather to follow it into its twists and turns. That it leads to a place of fascination testifies to the raw power of these songs: songs of pain and emotion, of fear and joy.