Dead Melodies :: Sylvan (Cryo Chamber)

These atmospheric post rock soundscapes, dark ambient-acoustic and organic sound design, are somehow breaking free after being buried long ago and the woods grew over the top. Here is found the dark wooded album, Sylvan.

Growling mechanical beasts

A fever dream with angels and growling mechanical beasts, ethereal vocals intoning and humming, antique instruments and brutal electronics. These atmospheric post-rock soundscapes, dark ambient-acoustic and organic sound design, are somehow breaking free after being buried long ago and the woods grew over the top. Here is found the dark wooded album, Sylvan.

The theme suggests the story of Zephyra, the personification of the west wind, a minor deity associated with spring, flowers, and the dispersal of clouds. Neither angel nor demon, she is a mysterious force that governs the ebb and flow of human destiny. She appears as a dark seraphim cloaked in obsidian feathers that absorb the light around her. She observes the world around her. Those who sense her presence feel an inexplicable chill, as if destiny itself whispers through the rustle of her wings. Zephyra’s touch can bring either blessings or curses, her choices are veiled in the mysteries of patterns unknown.

Hear an unidentified mysterious singing voice in the gloom. She sings in the gloom and floats above us, “Perched Upon the Edge of Twilight” (5:20). I am going deeper, a dark grumbling, a gentle monster purring, a machine rumbling quietly fade. But let us return to the story. Perched upon the edge of twilight, she observed the mortal realm with eyes that held the reflections of countless fates. 

Zephyra’s existence is intertwined with the delicate balance of fortune and misfortune sometimes known as the symmetry of fate. She soars silently through the night, casting her shadowy wings over unsuspecting souls, unseen to the human eye for in the shadow realm she roamed.

Dark rising “Sacrificial Offerings” (6:05) commence. Wet gloom, strange utterances, melodic sweet dark sparse dripping water, constantly witches calling; spooky electronics enters slowly like a python while the dark rising continues she yeee heeee very high pitched.

The ancient forests and forgotten whispers ::

The story takes place In the villages nestled between the ancient forests and forgotten whispers, tales of the enigmatic dark seraphim were entwined in ancestral legends. Some believe her to be a harbinger of doom, while others see her as a celestial guardian watching over the threads of their lives.

Out of both fear and gratitude for her guardianship, villagers furnished shrines with offerings hopeful for safe passage through their years, though the younger generation believed themselves wiser than telltale myth and made no sacrifice, and disdain for this apparent godlike being grew, instilling anger towards her mystic reign.

Strumming strings blend with the moment, “Olden Boughs” (5:37), and now I am entering the cavern. Dark reverb goes up, there are some sounds of movement, all is dark and spooky. Now restless fluttering strings take flight, there is a giant in the cave. Those are huge footsteps, slow and cautious, suggesting more depth…

At the end of the forest valley stands a knoll, and upon it a tree. Said to be millennia old and her place of rest, its ancient gnarled and knotted boughs impose a daunting silhouette as if an extension of the seraphim’s unnatural rule. Its roots elaborately weave in and out swallowing up the earth like a spider’s web encases its prey. And at the base of the knoll, the long reaching roots have shaped in such a way that an altar had formed; its top perfectly flat and crimson stained, testament to the sacrificial offerings the village elders thought to appease Zephyra’s will.

I am falling in slow motion, I sense a dark glow that expands to bring the “Dance of the Elderfolk” (5:31). Guitar fingers play, tension builds and grows louder and more menacing. You must kill me now if you can, here come the drums and we are dancing, all is wonderful. A night dance with fire. Probably I will perish in the wild shadows and crazy steps. All you have to do is nod and you are dancing, I shake. There is a nice cold ending. There is a narrative, “The Symmetry of Fate” (7:08). Now the darkness yields a voice and instruments to create mood, wonderful monsters peek out. I am following the voice as the story changes the way you listen. Following the voice of how things used to be, my muttering grandfather gets into the spirit. Some of the words are lost. Overall, a perfect storyteller’s voice coasts over the words and I might struggle to listen to the music. My spirit ears blur it all into a hole.

Falling into a bubbling cauldron ::

Next I am falling into a bubbling cauldron, behind me the guitar and strings come forward, and herein lies the “Ode to Sylvan Hallows” (6:05). A single deep drum beat portends a slow atmosphere with no instruments just creaking and humming and that builds up even more darkness. Now a deep drum, an isolated beat, no pattern, just wham and then wham while the atmosphere grows grim and calamitous…

Now come the choirs of darkness, and evil, “Those That Sharpen Their Axes” (5:53). The sound of axes biting into wet bones, there are lots of carcases. A slow strange progression into spooky shadow sounds, something is happening but what could it be? Step by step into the dark gloom I plunge. Shouts. The opposing views among the young led to angry mobs taking the tree by storm to cut it down and rid the people of the seraphim’s grip with the tree seen as her stronghold. But, for as the elders had long told, those who sharpen their axes will drown in blood, for iron and ore will anger the beast, and to her, the price ye shall pay. These old sayings did not scare the young mobs, as try they did, but each attempt to sever its lifeblood failed for the ancient roots and branch were impenetrable, and after each misadventure a mysterious and horrifying death was bestowed upon the village the following day. Iron for an eye, the elders always said and, with time, living in the shadow of fear and hope again became the norm.

Rain and thunder, aliens hiding in the landscape “Dissident Assembly” (4:36) has the slow swaying hand drum beat and new instrumental or percussive voices emerge. Dark poisonous strings, “Cursed Roots of Blood” (6:36) a guitar cello tale of magic and horror, melodic and slow, dark deathly dripping. As tales of Zephyra’s gift spread, the villagers embraced the seraphim’s presence, understanding that life’s tapestry was woven with threads of both shadow and light. Zephyra continued her silent vigil, overseeing the fortunes and misfortunes of those whose lives she touched, a mysterious guardian in the realm between dusk and dawn. With her earthly messenger, Elara said to paint a picture a day that told the fortunes, or lack-of them, to come to pass at the next sun. Dark evil croaking sounds with atmosphere and thunder, “A Murder of Spies” (5:56). 

These are talking crows, and as the storm gathers death is coming, cry while you can. Hear very subtle instrumentation gathering into a dark orchestra floating over us. A council of crows discussing doom, darkness and worry. This may grow steadily as the sky promises terror but the rain has not started yet. One moonlit eve, a humble artist named Elara sought guidance from the elusive seraphim with an offering not of blood nor plant, but of a painting of the ancient tree upon the knoll.

Wings casting a shadow ::

Intrigued by her sincerity, Zephyra materialized before her, wings casting a shadow over the moonlit path. Elara hesitated but then asked the seraphim to reveal her destiny. Suspense and bowed strings darkness, “Under Guardian’s Watch” (8:02) where she sings there is an electric guitar.

Zephyra, with a voice that echoed through the ages, spoke of intertwined paths and choices. She bestowed upon Elara the gift of foresight, allowing her to paint visions of both joy and sorrow. Elara’s artwork became a reflection of the delicate dance between light and darkness, capturing the essence of the human experience. It is time for the “Fireside Fable” (6:09), and there are no words. Soothing mysterious horns strings suspense one long slow extended note leading relentlessly into “The Symmetry of Fate” performed this time as an instrumental (7:08). Thus it is revealed what happened behind the narrator. I found rumbling under the earth, peaceful lute or guitar fingers. There is activity happening. We hear some rumbling somewhere while the fingers find the melody fragments slow and relaxing, dark and wet. And the tree upon the knoll stood strong under the watch of the village elders and never again was an axe raised, nor was blood spilled in the name of Zephyra.

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Dead Melodies album Sylvan, which is a musical tale of mystical woodlands and tribal folk, was released from the Cryo Chamber on July 9, 2024, the 190th day of the year in the Gregorian calendar; and at that period in time, 175 days yet remained until the end of the year.

Written, Produced, Performed: Tom Moore
Artwork & Mastering: Simon Heath

Sylvan is available on Cryo Chamber. [Bandcamp]