A life’s trilogy concludes.

Four-piece studio supergroup Pullman have given listeners their first full-length project in over two decades—the emergent acoustic contemplation that is III. This sudden final sforzando from a band who’ve long since earned their stripes is a pleasant surprise in isolation, and a bittersweet coda within its proper context. This is among the last of drummer Tim Barnes’ contributions as a musician—as one of the most renowned percussionists in his scene, no doubt—owing to a recent and heartbreaking announcement of early-onset Alzheimer’s. III takes none of its lean half-hour runtime for granted, meditating well on every mournful moment, every heart-wrenching hymn. The elegant subtlety at play lets feeling reign over flash and intimacy preside. It is pure, raw essence in that most spiritually audible key, from the distorted cascade of “Bray” to the rallying folk twang of “Kabul.”

One cannot help but wish better circumstances upon a team of artists who truly deserve them. One cannot help but wish for a performance this beautiful without tragedy in its engine. And yet.

And yet, Pullman has provided a testament to love and resilience that will endure. Cognition is temporary and fragile. The art it births, however? That is eternal. Through these eyes, three is infinity. May it always be so.