Hi internet,
Apologies for my absence from reality since Haunted's last release. I owe the coven an update post to shed light on the inner workings of the project amid its silence this summer, filling in some gaps I have been leaving.
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| THE MARCID SKY THAT GLISTENS OUT NOW |
Since the release of The Marcid Sky That Glistens, I've been struggling to find a balance of consistency and motivation for the next musical endeavour. Over the past months, work has started on a few separate conceptual EPs, concepts of which I have been proud and excited to work on, but something in my tangled brain has been poisoned and can't keep focused on composing. Whether it's the slow dissolution of my sanity or overabundance of real-world requirements, music has been sporadic and withering, started but never finished, flower buds dying before they bloom.
The silence between releases wreaks its torture, almost endlessly expanding at this point. You may have seen on Haunted's cobwebbed Twitter earlier this summer of my plans for a Chopin inspired release; playing on choking emotion through incredibly sparse instrumentation and atmospheres, weaving the washed noises of romantic melancholy into a ghostly, depressive, atmospheric black metal EP. Overwhelmed with ideas apparently too abstract for this crippled brain to comprehend, the music frayed and questions of what music even is in the first place took over. Cue a quick descent into why why why [endless].
Prior to my Chopin retreat, I had started writing a separate EP - a vent-release of psychosis and depression crowned with noise and burdening disorientation, an echo of leaking sanity and the dying embers of thought. "why am i still breathing" and "Noir" [both released on Bandcamp] would have found their homes here, were it not for my dwindling inspiration besetting like a plague, stamping ideas into the mud and crippling all that had been created. Returning to this concept again, the issues are maintained, and black metal starts to feel like such a dead end, but is it the music or my mind?
My sanity, my fleeing sanity, cutting trenches through my thoughts, severing the ends and stitching them to the wrong beginnings.
This writers block sinks deeper than more simple disinspiration I've realised; it feeds off any shreds of my warping sanity, leaving one so empty in its cyclical inertia of beginning but never ending, chiselling away at my skull. The foundations I build on have been rotting for some time it seems, and I have been asleep.
Of all the pieces started this summer, a few parts thankfully do glitter in hope, but tying these fragments together, smoothing out their clashing intents and fleshing out these highlights of my musical breakdown into a fully realised release will be a whole other matter. I'll be praying to the gods of consistency and motivation, lest a void be planted again within me to grow unwieldy, devouring from the inside.
I'm not about to start promising release dates I doubt I can keep, but I wish to curse you all with another release by the end of the year. Whether it will be just a lonely track or a whole, albeit disoriented, EP is still up for debate, but I hate the cobwebs left across Haunted's Bandcamp and social media, and the silence that mutates so deep in the rot. I hope the community can understand the fluctuations of my sanity and the effect it has on my releases, despite my scatty surface-level explanation. The rotting parts I cut from me always seem to evolve, infected, worse.
Hysteria
The silence between releases wreaks its torture, almost endlessly expanding at this point. You may have seen on Haunted's cobwebbed Twitter earlier this summer of my plans for a Chopin inspired release; playing on choking emotion through incredibly sparse instrumentation and atmospheres, weaving the washed noises of romantic melancholy into a ghostly, depressive, atmospheric black metal EP. Overwhelmed with ideas apparently too abstract for this crippled brain to comprehend, the music frayed and questions of what music even is in the first place took over. Cue a quick descent into why why why [endless].
Prior to my Chopin retreat, I had started writing a separate EP - a vent-release of psychosis and depression crowned with noise and burdening disorientation, an echo of leaking sanity and the dying embers of thought. "why am i still breathing" and "Noir" [both released on Bandcamp] would have found their homes here, were it not for my dwindling inspiration besetting like a plague, stamping ideas into the mud and crippling all that had been created. Returning to this concept again, the issues are maintained, and black metal starts to feel like such a dead end, but is it the music or my mind?
My sanity, my fleeing sanity, cutting trenches through my thoughts, severing the ends and stitching them to the wrong beginnings.
This writers block sinks deeper than more simple disinspiration I've realised; it feeds off any shreds of my warping sanity, leaving one so empty in its cyclical inertia of beginning but never ending, chiselling away at my skull. The foundations I build on have been rotting for some time it seems, and I have been asleep.
Of all the pieces started this summer, a few parts thankfully do glitter in hope, but tying these fragments together, smoothing out their clashing intents and fleshing out these highlights of my musical breakdown into a fully realised release will be a whole other matter. I'll be praying to the gods of consistency and motivation, lest a void be planted again within me to grow unwieldy, devouring from the inside.
I'm not about to start promising release dates I doubt I can keep, but I wish to curse you all with another release by the end of the year. Whether it will be just a lonely track or a whole, albeit disoriented, EP is still up for debate, but I hate the cobwebs left across Haunted's Bandcamp and social media, and the silence that mutates so deep in the rot. I hope the community can understand the fluctuations of my sanity and the effect it has on my releases, despite my scatty surface-level explanation. The rotting parts I cut from me always seem to evolve, infected, worse.
Hysteria
