Various

Tehrangeles Vice plays like a neon-lit postcard from an exile dream—ten years of diaspora pop where heartbreak, glamour, and cultural displacement collide in shimmering slow-motion. These tracks are the sound of young Iranians rebuilding identity in Los Angeles apartments and backroom studios, stitching synthesiser sparkle onto melodies carried from home, mixing disco drama with the ache of remembering what can’t be returned to.

There’s a surreal duality at work: Persian poetry floating over drum machines, longing wrapped in glossy keyboards, desire sharpened to a diamond edge. Every song feels like a coded message—half confession, half celebration—broadcast from a community reinventing itself under California’s artificial suns.

It’s an archive of defiance and elegance, a soundtrack to nights spent dancing through nostalgia and neon. A decade of pop that glows with exile’s heat and hope.