“And Which Way Is Up” unfolds like a memory caught mid rewind, suspended between nostalgia and malfunction. Set against imagery of service lines, Walkmans, mixtapes, and dead signals, the song places its emotional core inside obsolete technology, where feelings degrade slowly, warped by time rather than erased by it. Losing someone in 1989 is not just a date here, but a coordinate, a point where personal history and media history collapse into one another.
The track leans heavily into the sensation of disorientation. Static memories. Blurred pictures. A voice unsure of the present tense. Rewinding becomes both a literal action and an emotional reflex, an attempt to regain clarity that only further distorts the image. The question in the title is never answered, because the song lives inside that confusion, where direction and chronology no longer behave.
