1. The album takes its name from the Mesoamerican feathered serpent deity — a figure representing wind, knowledge, the union of earth and sky. What drew you to Quetzalcoatl as a central image, and how does that mythology thread its way through the album’s themes?

We have been aware of the feathered serpent deity for quite a while. he was central to Aztec, Toltec and Maya cultures. The legend also has it that he appeared as an old man with a long beard, who disappeared over the sea never to return. It is a standalone song, the other songs are about other subjects, but it’s a great track and makes a good title for the album.

There was also a Cretaceous azhdarchid pterosaur called Quetzalcoatlus which was the biggest pterosaur that ever lived. Tim said “when I wrote the music for Quetzalcoatl I was expecting Dick to write about the Dinosaur.  But Dick was drawn to all of that Aztec and Mayan stuff.”  Dick said “Right I was, it makes a better song, how do you write a song about an extinct flying dinosaur?”

• Yeah! Make sense. Well, “Quetzalcoatl” has been described as your most cohesive and adventurous record yet — heavy rock sitting alongside prog folk, jazz, a vampire waltz, and Zen philosophy. How do you hold all of those wildly different influences together under one roof without the album feeling scattered?

The Tirith in some ways is a unique band, many people find us difficult to directly compare to other bands and artists. Because our influences are so wide that is hardly surprising, and we aren’t trying to be like anybody else. Many current prog bands are heavily influenced by Genesis, we aren’t.  Neither do we play what we would refer to as standard prog, lots of thrashing around, complicated time signatures, seemingly just for the sake of it, and doom-laden lyrics strung together in an ad hoc style.  We play properly constructed songs, sometimes featuring stories, often with soaring instrumental sections. We are included in the prog rock genre really because there is no other genre that fits. I could give you a list of our influences but it would take up a whole page and you don’t really want that.

• The space narrative that began on “Tales from the Tower” and continued through “Return of the Lydia” gets a new chapter here with “Back to Space” — a stranded spaceman in New York, unable to adapt to city life, deciding the only way forward is back to the stars. How did that storyline develop over three albums, and was it always planned as an ongoing saga?

There was no plan, but it is a fascination.  It all started really with a song called “The Tower” when we were very young, about a tower on a distant planet surrounded by methane snow.  Tim was inspired by Ray Bradbury to write that song.  Most of the development of the theme though has been written by Dick. Dick says “the space theme and our ongoing story is always in the back of my mind when writing songs for a new album.  Where to go with it next? The song Return of the Lydia, the title track of the last album, seemed a logical move to bring the space ship back to earth but it also afforded an opportunity to fill in more details about the adventures along the way. And so we come to Back to Space on the latest album.”  “I’ve been thinking about that angle for a while, the nightmare of city life with surreal lyrics, and then the big chorus of Back to Space.”  Has the adventure finished? Not sure, but also not sure at this point where it might go. But you know its all a bit tongue in cheek.

• “No Mind (Mushin)” originated as an improvisation and explores the Japanese Zen concept of empty, thought-free flow — total presence and effortless action. How does that philosophy of improvisation and instinct inform the way The Tirith approaches music-making more broadly?

OMG, it doesn’t, we are not a band that does a lot of improvisation, but occasionally we do and then develop a tune from there.  But in real life we are inspired by this approach.  Tim first came across these ideas when practicing martial arts, it is basically a form of meditation, which has been adopted by both of us

• Tim Cox’s history includes being part of the production team behind Rozalla’s “Everybody’s Free (to Feel Good)” — still a dancefloor anthem today — before returning to his prog rock roots. Tim, how does that commercial pop and dance world experience shape the way you approach songwriting and production for The Tirith?

Working with drums machines, sequencers and samplers in the late 80s it became possible to create an entire arrangement of a song before recording it to tape and mixing it. This was a big step from mapping out a song on say, acoustic guitar or piano, and then rehearsing and arranging a band before recording and mixing.

This has had a huge influence on the way we can work nowadays. With modern Digital Audio Workstations (DAWs) we can map out an entire song, before rehearsing and recording the individual members of the band, who can put their own style and interpretation on the song.  In dance music, most of the music remains programmed and sequenced, apart from the vocals. In our songs, pretty much everything is replaced by the musicians in the band playing in their own way.

• The band’s origins go back to Loughborough Grammar School in the 1970s — two boys sitting opposite each other with acoustic guitars, playing only original material from the very start. Over fifty years later, what is it about the Tim Cox and Dick Cory creative partnership that has kept it alive and relevant through everything?

It’s a special thing and we still like to do that, but it doesn’t really reflect the way we work together today.  We work together and separately to create the songs and we both have our own particular strengths. For Tim’s songs of which there are 3 on the Quetzalcoatl album, “Quetzalcoatl”, “Back to Space” and “Dancing With Vampires”, Tim will map out the whole arrangement of the song but without vocals, lyrics or topline.  Dick then works up a topline melody, writes the lyrics and makes it into a song sometimes suggesting changes to the arrangements along the way. Dick’s songs (of which there are 5 on Quetzalcoatl, “Rabbit Ings”, Spirit of the Volcano”, “Masters of Highways”, “Save The Oak” and “The Riddles”)  are usually presented in a rougher form as simple often chaotic complete songs with topline and lyrics, but then Tim sorts them out, changing the arrangements, adding instrumental sections and turning them into the finished article. “Moon King” is an Ant song but with extensive work on the arrangement and topline by Dick.  “The Slide” is a band collaboration, starting with a section from Tim, with a section by Ant in the middle.  Dick wrote lyrics and topline for both sections. “No Mind (Mushin)” started life as a band improvisation which grew and evolved into its final form. That’s the creative process, we love playing live and hope to translate that into live energy.

• Keyboardist Anthony Hill joined in 2022 and the band has spoken about how the lineup has genuinely gelled since then. What did Ant’s arrival unlock in the sound — and how has the dynamic between all four members shaped what “Quetzalcoatl” became?

Before I talk about Ant I would like to tell you about our drummer Paul Williams who can get overlooked.  Paul was our main drummer in the 70s before we went our separate ways.  He was the one who brought us back together after the in 2010.  Unfortunately he had to leave us again in 2012 due to heavy commitments with other bands.  But he rejoined us in 2020 and has been with us ever since. The Tirith always feels right with Paul sitting behind us on that drum stool.  He has an effortless bouncy technique which we love, having Paul on drums has made it possible for us to play our more difficult songs with relative ease. We are trying to keep him going for as long as possible (he does suffer from rheumatism now in his hands), so fingers crossed.

When Ant joined in 2022 it completed the circle. We had wanted a keyboard player for a while that fitted with us, and we had tried a few.  Keyboards up until that point were played by both Tim and Dick on record, but that was hard to replicate on stage. As a 3 piece we would bring keyboards on stage but our hands were mostly playing guitars, although Dick did also play keyboard pedals which were effective to some degree.  We had been aware of Anthony Hill for a few years and had spoken to him before, but at that time he was busy with his own band.  By 2022 he was fed up with them and contacted us asking to join The Tirith.  For Ant its been a steep learning curve, he has had to learn all our previous albums and the way we work technically, and has now started to contribute to the process, eg Moon King.

• The album closes with “The Riddles” — lyrics full of classic riddles, and at its heart M.O.A.I., Malvolio’s riddle from Shakespeare’s Twelfth Night, for which there is no solution. Why end the album on an unsolvable riddle — and is that a deliberate philosophical statement about the nature of prog itself?

We didn’t purposely intend to, its just when we ordered the album The Riddles ended up in that position, honest !  But seriously we like little quirks and mysteries, we did let you into the secret though.  Maybe we shouldn’t have and you would now be asking us, ”what is M.O.A.I. ?”

• The Tirith have performed at the Cambridge Rock Festival, HRH Prog, Sonic Rock Solstice, and venues across the UK and Europe. With “Quetzalcoatl” arriving in July, what does the live picture look like — and are there festival appearances or tour dates in the works to support the album?

Our next 3 gigs are all small festivals, Steel City Prog at Network Sheffield in Sept, our own festival Prog Rhino 3 at Greystones Sheffield in Oct, and Spriggan Fest in Reading in January 27.

• The band began as Minas Tirith in the 70s — named after a place in Middle-earth — and has always sat at that intersection of prog rock and dark fantasy. Looking back across fifty-plus years and forward into whatever comes after “Quetzalcoatl”, what does this band still have left to say?

Although we did originate all those years ago there were no recordings from that era. So it’s a lifetime compressed really starting in 2015 with the release of “Tales from the Tower” the songs of our youth. Followed by “A Leap into the Dark” in 2019 and “Return of the Lydia” 2022, both with newer songs.  But I think our latest Quetzalcoatl is surpasses all of them.

I think with Quetzalcoatl you have to immerse yourself in the whole album to really get it.  The tracks are all so different, they pull you this way and that, the moods change, but always with that underlying rock sensibility. The album is more keyboard based than our earlier albums, but the guitar solos are still there, just shorter than previously. We have tried to cut repetition down and there is a whole load of music in there.  Just dive in and immerse yourself in it!

And we still have a lot to say!

• “Anam Cara” is a Gaelic phrase meaning “soul friend” — a concept rooted in deep spiritual kinship and connection. Why that title for this record, and what does it mean in the context of what you were creating?

I originally had a Celtic mythology theme for this album, but drifted from that during the writing process but the phrase “Anam Cara” sounded right for the album. Music to me is like a soul friend.

• You’ve described this as your most experimental release yet — and Sun Raven’s sound already spans atmospheric prog, post-rock, sludge, jazz, and psychedelia. Where do you feel you pushed furthest into new territory on this album compared to your previous two records?

The first two records were more rooted in metal music with elements of progressive, alternative, ambient. I felt like I had gone as far as I could creatively within that style. For “Anam Cara” I wanted it to be more difficult for the listener to define a certain style and just wrote with almost total freedom but still having elements that made it sound like a Sun Raven album.

• Sun Raven is entirely your own vehicle — you write, compose, produce, and perform everything yourself. What does that total creative solitude give you that a band environment couldn’t — and is there anything it takes away?

I like having the freedom to create what I want without having to compromise for other people. Part of the reason Sun Raven is a solo project is because I haven’t been able to find like-minded musicians that live nearby to work with. Sun Raven started as a band with a vocalist and bassist but the creative process wasn’t working with those other musicians so I decided to do everything myself and make the music purely instrumental.

• The album draws comparisons to artists as varied as John Carpenter, Mogwai, Russian Circles, Tool, and Godspeed! You Black Emperor. When you’re composing instrumentally without lyrics to anchor the listener, how do you guide the emotional and narrative journey of a piece from beginning to end?

Song titles play an important role to set the mood of an instrumental song, I think they give the listener a visual starting point. Having an underlying melody is also important, even if the guitar part isn’t playing a lead guitar melody, having strong melodic notes within a chord progression creates a memorable song without a vocalist.

• “Anam Cara” is described as the perfect soundtrack for creative thinking — dense, hypnotic, and cinematic. Do you compose with a visual or narrative world in mind, and if so, what did the world of this album look and feel like to you while you were building it?

Sometimes I have a theme for a song and that will influence the type of instruments, chord progressions, time signatures I use. Other times it will just be a spark of inspiration that seems to come out of nowhere and I feel as if I am more of a vehicle for this creative process and I try and flow with it as much as possible.

• Three albums in and the project is still evolving rapidly. What does the horizon look like for Sun Raven — and is there a sound or a concept already forming that might take the project somewhere new?

I feel like I have hit a creative peak with this album and Sun Raven. There will probably be another Sun Raven album in the future but for the near future I am focusing on a new project that I hope will also become a band with other musicians, it’s called Evahfar and it will be the first public project to feature me on vocals as well as performing all the instruments for the debut EP. It’s sound is based in Alternative Rock with Jazz and Folk influences. I am really excited about it.

• The album is dedicated to Batty and to all the beloved pets and friends you’ve lost. Can you tell us a little about who Batty was to you — and how her passing became the moment that crystallized everything this record needed to say?

Batty was a little black cat who had been with me for sixteen years.  She was different somehow than my other furry friends.  I adored them all, but somehow Batty and I developed a special relationship.  Maybe it was because she was so dainty and delicate, I felt I had an elevated responsibility to protect her.  She would follow me everywhere and sleep on my arm at night.

She came down with a respiratory condition that the vets couldn’t heal.  When I made the decision to end her suffering, it hurt me deeply.  It was only then that I realized how much I depended on her.  She was my anchor to hope and optimism.  No matter how bad things were getting in my life, as long as she was with me, I could find the desire to keep going.  When she departed, it literally felt as though something had been torn out of my heart.  I felt empty and alone.  While deep in my grief, I had a powerful waking vision of being alone forever.  Everyone knows intellectually that death and loss are a part of life, but this was beyond mere awareness.  I was experiencing emotionally the unavoidable fact that everything I love, and will ever love, will one day leave.

At one point I decided to put my grief down in words.  I knew that other people were certainly going through the same experience, and I wanted to do whatever I could with the abilities that I have to try and let people know that they are not alone in their grief.  Since music had always been a powerful therapy for me, I turned my words into lyrics and tried to capture various shades of grief, which eventually turned into Acoustic Mourning.

• You describe that period as a Jenga collapse — friends, family, pets, your job, your marriage — all falling away. How did music become the place you turned to, and at what point did you realize that what you were creating was becoming an album rather than just a way of coping?

Making an album at some point in my life had been a goal for many years, but it was something I had to keep pushing into the future due to various responsibilities.  About a year after Batty passed, I was still unemployed and depressed, and I decided that it was now or never.  I began treating the album as a job, starting early in the morning and continuing on until the evening.

• You’re blind and entirely self-taught in music theory, guitar, and vocal performance — committing seriously to music only from 2012 onward. What did that journey of learning look like, and what methods and approaches did you develop that others might never have needed to find?

I knew I would have to do everything myself, so I embarked upon a journey of learning the craft of music along with recording, mixing, and mastering.  I searched for all the training materials I could find, which had to be in an audio format due to my lack of eyesight.  The practical application was the most difficult.  I had to find and obtain the right computer with the right screen reading software and the right recording and editing software that would all work together and permit me to perform all of the necessary tasks with a computer keyboard only, no mouse.

Most of the software, including virtual instruments and plugins, were totally inaccessible.  I had even contacted various gear manufacturers to encourage them to make their products more accessible, without much success.  The only company that I’m aware of at the moment that has made such an effort is Native Instruments.  A few years ago they released a music keyboard with a feature that would announce selections and parameter changes, which opened up their vast library of virtual instruments to blind persons.

When I did have a job, I spent obscene amounts of money searching for the right gear.  It was an obsession.

• The album was built by treating music like a full-time job — ten hours a day, seven days a week in early 2026. What does that kind of focused, solitary creative process feel like from the inside — and how do you know when a song is finished?

When I sit down to write, I really don’t have any starting ideas.  I begin by looking inside myself, at different memories from my life, searching for the emotional resonance.  When I find something, I start typing out lines that attempt to capture what I am feeling.  The goal at this point is to find a single idea to develop the song around.  Once I have that idea, I try to find phrases and images that add flesh to the skeleton of the idea, and then begin sorting these elements into verse and chorus sections.

I can usually feel when a song is complete.  After combing through the lyrics multiple times, I step away for a few hours and then come back to it with a more relaxed mindset for another review.

• The tracklist carries titles like Beautiful Oblivion, In the End, Going Home, No One Gets Out Alive, and Table for One — there’s a clear emotional and philosophical arc here. Did you sequence the album deliberately as a journey, and is there a track you’d point a new listener to first?

Yes, the tracklist was chosen specifically to take listeners on a journey through grief and loss.  I didn’t want to just drop a bundle of sorrow onto people and potentially leave them feeling miserable.  Tracks like Through the Night, Thinking of You, and Ride Your Wave were created to provide an emotional balance.

The one track I would point someone to as a way of capturing the essence of the album is probably the final track, Mercy.  The song is about someone who is so broken by the tragedies of life that he is yearning to be taken from this world to the next realm of existence.

• Any music videos planned to bring some of these songs to life visually?

Yes.  A video for Beautiful Oblivion is currently underway.

• In such an AI-driven era, how do you see the future of indie artists in particular — and the music industry in general?

This is such an important question right now.  I actually have a series on my YouTube channel discussing this very topic. AI is just the next step in the evolution of digital music production technology.  Songwriters in particular now have a method of expression for their lyrical creations that they may not have had access to before.  AI generated music will certainly provide a greater level of competition for listeners.  A recent article stated that nearly 100,000 new tracks are uploaded to streaming services each days.  That can be overwhelming for new artists trying to capture someone’s attention.

I believe Indie artists will eventually embrace AI as yet another production tool, the same way they embraced MIDI, electronic music, and AI driven production tools.  Songwriters can now manifest their lyrics without depending upon another group of people to interpret their vision, and traditional musicians will likely use AI to help find lyrical and melodic ideas.

• Thank you for your time and music.

Thanks Mena for the time and the excellent questions!

• The name, the cryptic intro, the atmospheric imagery — “The Whispering” feels like it was built as a world unto itself from day one. Where did the concept behind the band and its identity come from, and how long has this vision been taking shape?

Greetings Mena . it’s Lucian , lovely to talk with you 🙂

For me , music offers a ticket to freedom, a license to explore the depths of the self and a vehicle of expression.

The Whispering has been in my heart for many years now . The sound and atmosphere are reflections of the danger and excitement I felt in my youth when first discovering heavy metal . The feeling of running thru the dark , unsure of what’s ahead or the phantom that’s chasing you .

The Whispering are the unseen voices of truth and guidance in these moments of chaos. The wisdom hidden in plain sight. Our world today if drowning in noise pollution and self distraction. The answers we seek are waiting in the shadow, on the wind above and the water below .

• Thank you! It’s my pleasure. Well you’ve described yourself as someone who carries “the torch of rebellion against injustice, oppression, ignorance, and twisted hypocrisy.” How directly does that personal mission translate into the lyrics and themes across these four tracks — “The Whispering”, “Life After God”, “Evil Eye”, and “Pretty Witches”?

I do not describe myself this way. I only write the music and lyrics that resonate with my heart. I often find myself disconnected from social justice and the madness of the collective. It’s easy for people to insulate and only see what confronts us directly, yet beyond our personal spaces the world moves in ways that affect us all.

How long will woman be subjected to religious dogma that suppresses their rights, bodily autonomy and equality?

Peoples self serving ignorance and entitlement to the destruction of the environment. The indifferent torture of animals, factory farming. These are urgent issues that stir my inner rebellion.

• Before The Whispering, you were producing and performing with world-famous circus troops including Cirque du Soleil, and performing in venues and festivals across the US, Canada, Australia, China, the UK, and Europe. How did that extraordinary experience shape the artist — and the bandleader — you are today?

The circus world is a brilliant storm of tragedy and triumph, death defying climax and delicate moments. Night after night I witness performers throwing themselves into the spotlight and dancing on the edge of disaster. As a fire performer, I found myself wildly alive on stage. A visceral escape from the mind into the present moment. It’s a feeling of freedom I wish to convey thru the music of The Whispering.

• The lineup here reads like a metal dream team. Loic, Tobias, Dirk — these are names with serious history in the genre. Lucian, how did you bring these elite players together around this specific vision, and what did each of them bring to the music that you couldn’t have anticipated?

It’s a honor making music with these legendary musicians. As the vision of the The Whispering took focus, each member found their position quite naturally. It was almost as effortless as whimsical wish set upon the wind only to have it answered with a hurricane.

The synergy of musical influences and like minded vision became clear very early on and has made for a thrilling journey.

• Dirk Verbeuren stepped in to complete the album recording when Tobias was unavailable — and the two of them, Dirk and Loic, share a 20-year history across multiple bands. What was it like witnessing that reunion energy in the studio, and how did it impact the final sound of the record?

Loic and Dirk have been friends and band mates for two decades and their connection is special. It’s been a joy watching them re unite and flex their sonic telepathy on the record. They are both masterful players and open channels of collaboration. No guidance or instructions needed, they know the right thing to play before I’ve even written the songs :)!

• The EP was recorded at Besco Recording Studios in France with producer and manager Dan McConomy, mixed by Mohammad “Momo” Sadeghin, and mastered by the legendary Randy Merrill at Sterling Sound. That’s an impressive chain of talent. How did the collaboration with Dan and that team shape the sonic identity of what you were making?

The whispering is an international band, bonded by our love of music. As the record came to life , each collaborator brought a little of their own inspiration from every corner of the earth . It’s was easy to trust the instincts of the people involved.

Music is the international we all speak.

• The EP is called “Part 1” — which naturally raises the question: is there a Part 2 in the works, and what can you tell us about what that might look like?

It was a challenge separating the EP from the album.

Releasing the full length record will complete the vision. Songs still to come have some deeply personal themes, some extra heavy moments and delicate interludes.

This is our first record as a band and we are excited to be sharing it with you !!

More divinely devilish music to come.

• The full self-titled album is coming this fall with ten tracks total — four of which we’ve already heard. Without giving too much away, how does the complete album expand on what “Part 1” introduces, and are there musical or thematic directions on the full record that might surprise people?

It was particularly challenging, separating the EP from the entire album. It was written and recorded as a complete concept. There is an overall feeling of spooky immersion when sitting with the entire album. Still to come are some extra heavy moments, deeply personal lyrics and delicate interludes.

• Any music videos planned for filming soon — beyond the self-titled track that’s already out on YouTube?

Yes, we have scheduled more music videos to share. The self titled track, the whispering and proceeding music video were an introduction to a greater conceptual vision.

we are a part of a community of creators, witches and conjure, actively shaping the visual environment for the whispering

• Your live experience is clearly a massive part of who you are as a performer — immersive, theatrical, powerful. How are you designing the live show for The Whispering, and when can fans expect to see this project on stage?

We are a coven of musicians who are serious about the craft and delivering a high-level performance, we are also a band of witches, intent on creating a wild and unpredictable live experience.

• The band operates on its own imprint, LAG Records, distributed worldwide by The Orchard. In an era where so many artists are navigating the tension between creative control and industry reach, what does owning your own imprint mean to you — and how does it shape the decisions you make?

The music industry as a business is its own beast. As long as we as a band have creative control, I leave and trust the business and management team responsible for the logistics”

We are well represented and have total confidence in the team around us.

• In such an AI-driven era, how do you see the future of indie artists in particular — and the music industry in general?

With thousands of AI generated records being released every day it would seem the landscape is even more flooded. It’s going to be a challenge for listeners to discern computer generated music from the real thing. When I listen to a song, I often think of the artist who created it and the emotions being communicated. It’s a much deeper experience and offers real insight into human connectivity. As AI continues to spread , so will the recognition and unpredictable excitement of raw soul generated sounds.

• “Heat of the Night” is described as a definitive shift toward a driving, cinematic rock sound after a period of more intimate acoustic releases. What pulled you back toward rock — and what made this the right moment for that return?

Rock has always been in my DNA, but music, to me, is about seasons and storytelling. After focusing on intimate, acoustic releases like ‘If you knew what I knew’, where raw emotion and storytelling stood at the very center, I felt this intense surge of energy again. I didn’t just want to tell a story; I wanted to build a massive, cinematic landscape. ‘Heat of the Night’ required that driving, heavy rock foundation to capture the exact tension and atmosphere I had in mind. It’s powerful, it’s unapologetic, and after the quietness of the acoustic tracks, this was the absolute perfect moment to break the silence with a bang. It shows the full spectrum of who I am as an independent artist and producer—sometimes quiet and close, and sometimes explosive and cinematic.

• The song’s message centers on that moment in the dark when you finally shut out the world and find yourself again. Was there a specific personal experience that sparked this song, or is it something you’ve been carrying for a while?

This song actually brings together both: a deeply rooted feeling I’ve carried for a long time, and a very specific, quiet realization that brought it all to the surface. For a while now, my musical journey has been focused on an empowering theme—creating music that feels strong, intentional, and resonant. But true strength isn’t just about being loud or constantly pushing forward; it’s also about the resilience it takes to look inward. The spark for this specific message comes from that contrast. In the middle of managing independent music production, building a brand, and navigating all the noise that comes with putting yourself out there, you realize how easy it is to give pieces of yourself away to the world. The true turning point happens when you step into the quiet. That moment in the dark—when the screens are off, the external expectations are shut out, and it’s just you—isn’t about loneliness. It’s an empowering, sacred space where you reclaim your identity, ground yourself, and find your center again.

• Your “Vocal Kinship” project draws a deep artistic alignment with the energy and grit of rock legends like Bryan Adams. What does “vocal kinship” mean to you as a concept — and how does it shape the way you approach writing and performing?

As a musicologist, I’ve always been fascinated by voices that carry a certain raw truth, power, and vulnerability—much like rock legends such as Bryan Adams. For me, “Vocal Kinship” means recognizing that same fire in my own voice and building a bridge between the timeless spirit of 90s rock-pop and modern production. I don’t look for flawless, polite melodies. I write honest stories that give the voice room to breathe, scrape, and deliver massive but deeply personal hooks. It’s my guiding light for authenticity. It forces me to perform from the gut, leaving perfection at the door to chase the actual feeling instead. Whether it’s an up-tempo rock track or a ballad, my goal is to strike a chord directly in the listener’s heart.

• You studied music theory at the University of Heidelberg and have developed serious studio craft as both an artist and producer. How does that academic and technical foundation coexist with the raw, emotional energy that rock music demands?

It’s the classic tension between the mind and the heart, but for me, they don’t just coexist—they actively fuel each other. My time studying in Heidelberg gave me a deep structural understanding of music theory, while developing my studio craft as a producer gave me the technical tools to build those sonic worlds from scratch. However, rock music isn’t a science experiment; it’s a lightning strike that demands raw, unfiltered emotion and grit. For me, the technical foundation is the architecture, and the emotion is the performance. Knowing how to construct a powerful arrangement ensures the house is solid, which actually gives the emotional chaos of rock a safe place to explode. Because I am deeply familiar with my studio tools, the technical execution never interrupts my creative flow. Ultimately, theory gives me a map of the rules, but true rock thrives on rebellion. Having that foundation simply means I know exactly how to break those rules intentionally to catch the listener completely off guard.

• The lyrics of “Heat of the Night” paint a very vivid picture — shadows, open doors, locking gates, leaving town. Are you a visual writer, and how do you build that cinematic quality into a song from the ground up?

Yes, I absolutely write visually. For me, a song shouldn’t just be heard—it should feel like a movie playing behind your eyes. When I build a track from the ground up, I treat the music like a film score and the lyrics like a script. I swap abstract emotions for concrete, physical imagery like locking gates or open doors. These elements act like a camera lens, shifting between tight, tense close-ups and wide, panoramic shots that create real momentum. Relying on an archive of over 300 original lyrics has taught me to trust these vivid flashes. By blending this visual storytelling with a driving rock foundation, the cinematic quality comes alive naturally from the very first beat.

⇒ Read our review for “Heat of the Night” here. 

• You’re specifically targeting the Canadian, UK, and US rock scenes with this release while maintaining your European foundation. What does a truly global rock audience look like to you — and what bridges are you actively building to reach them?

A truly global rock audience is bound by a shared mindset, not geography—it’s a collective craving for raw authenticity and that timeless rock energy. By blending my musical background with a powerful, modern vocal approach, I create music that feels deeply familiar yet fresh across borders. While my roots remain firmly planted in the rich European tradition, I am actively building bridges through targeted digital campaigns and direct playlist curation tailored to the vibrant rock scenes in Canada, the UK, and the US. For me, reaching a global audience means bypassing traditional gatekeepers, connecting authentically on social media, and uniting rock purists worldwide through the universal language of a great, honest song.

• “Heat of the Night” carries a strong message about empowerment — saying no to the world in order to say yes to yourself. How much of that is autobiographical, and how much do you think it reflects something universal that listeners are hungry to hear right now?

It’s deeply autobiographical, yet I believe it taps into a universal truth. For a long time, especially as a female creator, I found myself trying to meet everyone else’s expectations. But true empowerment begins when you stop looking for external permission. Writing ‘Heat of the Night’ was my personal turning point—a conscious decision to say no to the world’s noise so I could finally say yes to my own vision. Right now, people are exhausted from constantly performing and putting on a mask for society. Listeners are hungry for authenticity. It is an anthem for anyone reclaiming their power, stepping out of the shadows, and choosing their own path.

• You’ve described this as your most prolific era yet. What does the creative pipeline look like beyond this single — are there more releases already taking shape, and is a full project on the horizon?

Absolutely! I’m currently in a very inspired flow, and the creative pipeline is moving fast. Following my recent singles like ‘Falling back in Love’ and ‘Heat of the Night’, I’m preparing a very exciting shift in gears. Next up is ‘Taormina’, a vibrant summer song that captures a warm, beautiful Italian flair—showing a completely different, non-rock side of my artistry. Right after that, I’m returning to heavy guitars with a massive rock track called ‘Tonight’. All these releases are pieces of a larger puzzle. A cohesive, conceptual body of work is absolutely on the horizon, moving toward a strong, empowering narrative.

• In such an AI-driven era, how do you see the future of indie artists in particular — and the music industry in general?

I see AI as a powerful technical tool, but it will never replace the human soul. AI can analyze structures and generate clean tracks, but it cannot duplicate a lightning strike of raw, unpolished emotion, grit, and vulnerability. The future of the industry belongs to absolute authenticity. Because the digital space is flooded with perfect, automated content, listeners are becoming hungry for the opposite: real human stories and genuine flaws. By relying on concept-driven artistry and honest vocal performances, indie creators can build deep, organic connections that algorithms can’t replicate. AI handles the data, but humans still hold the heartbeat of rock ‘n’ roll.

• For someone discovering Kat Madleine for the very first time through “Heat of the Night” — what do you want them to feel, and where would you send them next to understand who you truly are as an artist?

Through ‘Heat of the Night,’ I want new listeners to feel an immediate, electrifying surge of empowerment—the absolute freedom of reclaiming your own power. To truly understand my artistic depth, I’d then send them on a journey through my musical spectrum: first to my intimate ballad ‘If You Knew What I Knew’ to experience the raw vulnerability, and then straight to my upcoming summer track ‘Taormina’ to feel that sun-drenched, melodic warmth. Moving from the cinematic storm of rock into these different acoustic and atmospheric spaces shows the full spectrum of my world, where the grit, heart, and independent production craft always take center stage.

• Your earlier work was rooted in electronic and house music, and “Those Days” is a pretty dramatic departure into 60s rock territory. What triggered that shift?

As a composer, I have always believed that music shouldn’t be confined to a single genre or a fixed digital template. My earlier electronic and house tracks were an exploration of rhythm and modern ambient soundscapes. Still, I felt a deep, artistic calling to explore something more organic, raw, and emotionally grounded.

The shift to 1960s rock territory wasn’t planned; it was triggered by a profound nostalgia for the warmth of analog sound. The 60s era was the golden age of sonic storytelling, where every instrument felt alive and breathed with character. I wanted to challenge myself to capture that specific, vintage essence—blending live orchestral arrangements, guitars, and atmospheric elements like the theremin. This shift allowed me to break away from the repetitive nature of commercial electronic beats and create a cinematic journey that speaks directly to the soul, much like the timeless instrumental works of masters who inspired me.

⇒ Check out our album review here.

• The album is entirely instrumental. Was that a deliberate decision from the start, or did it evolve that way during the recording process?

It was a 100% deliberate and non-negotiable decision from the very first spark of the album. For me, instrumental music isn’t just songs missing lyrics; it is a supreme, universal language that speaks directly to the human subconscious without the limitations or boundaries of spoken words.

When you add a vocalist, the listener’s mind is automatically guided by the specific story the lyrics are telling. But with a purely instrumental track, the listener becomes the co-author of the story. The music creates a cinematic canvas, and the listener paints their own emotions, memories, and visuals onto it. During the recording and arranging process, my focus was entirely on making the instruments—the guitars, the strings, and the vintage synths—act as the “voices.” I wanted the arrangements to rise, fall, and emote so powerfully that words became completely unnecessary.

• You’re working out of a home studio in Alexandria. How do you get an analog, vintage sound in that kind of setup – what’s the process actually look like?

Achieving that authentic, warm 1960s analog vibe in a modern home studio setup is a fascinating challenge, but it is entirely about understanding the physics of vintage sound. The process is a careful marriage between hardware textures and meticulous digital emulation.

In my Alexandria studio, the process begins right at the source. Instead of relying purely on clean, sterile digital instruments, I route signals through analog preamps and hardware saturation units to inject harmonic distortion and warmth into the tracks. When recording guitars or layering orchestral elements, I avoid the modern “perfectly polished” sound.

The real magic happens during the arrangement and mixing stages: Tape Emulation & Saturation: The 1960s sound is defined by magnetic tape. I use high-end tape machine emulations (like Studer and Ampex models) on individual tracks and the master bus to introduce subtle tape hiss, wow-and-flutter, and natural compression. Vintage Reverbs & Delays: I heavily utilize spring reverbs and plate reverbs, which were the staples of 60s rock and cinematic scores. This gives the instruments a haunting, physical space rather than a generic digital echo. The Theremin and Vintage Synths: Integrating rare, atmospheric instruments like the Theremin adds that distinct, eerie retro-futuristic texture that pulls the entire mix into the past.Imperfection by Design: Modern digital audio workstations (DAWs) make everything perfectly on-beat and pitch-perfect. To counter this, I leave slight human timing variations and microtonal imperfections in the performances. Ultimately, the setup in Alexandria proves that you don’t need a massive commercial studio from the 1970s to capture that soul; you just need to know how to manipulate harmonics, air, and space to give digital tracks an analog heart.

• Egypt’s mainstream music scene is a long way from 1960s rock. Do you feel like you’re making music in isolation from your immediate surroundings, or does the local context feed into the work somehow?

It is true that the mainstream Egyptian music scene today is heavily dominated by commercial pop and electronic street genres, which are worlds apart from 1960s rock or cinematic instrumental music. On the surface, it might look like I am creating music in total isolation, but the truth is quite the opposite. My immediate surroundings feed into my work in a very deep, subconscious way.

Living and working in Alexandria plays a massive role in shaping my sonic identity. Alexandria is not just a city; it is a mood. It has a unique, melancholic, and deeply nostalgic atmosphere, especially during the winter. The architecture, the old cosmopolitan history, and the vastness of the Mediterranean Sea all naturally evoke a sense of cinematic storytelling.

So, while I may not be influenced by the current mainstream trends of Egypt’s music market, I am deeply fed by the timeless spirit of my surroundings. The isolation is actually a creative choice—it acts as a filter that shields my art from commercial noise, allowing me to translate the deep nostalgia of Alexandrian streets and the cinematic vastness of the sea into a universal 1960s analog rock canvas. I am not escaping my environment; I am simply scoring its hidden, wordless emotions.

• The album has apparently found listeners in Chicago, Los Angeles, and Germany. Did that surprise you, and do you think about audience geography when you’re making music?

It was a beautiful and deeply validating surprise, but at the same time, it felt like the natural destiny of this project. Seeing listeners tune in from places like Chicago, Los Angeles, and Germany is incredibly rewarding because it proves exactly what I set out to demonstrate: instrumental music carries no passport.

When I am in my studio composing, I absolutely never think about audience geography, borders, or specific demographics. If you start composing with a specific geographic market or target audience in mind, the music loses its honesty and becomes a commercial product. I focus entirely on the emotional truth of the melody and the texture of the sound.

Because my music has no lyrics, it doesn’t get stuck behind language barriers. A listener in Los Angeles or Germany doesn’t need to speak Arabic to understand the nostalgia or the cinematic weight of Those Days. They instantly feel it. The global response proves that human emotions—like nostalgia, longing, and wonder—are identical worldwide. My music is made in Alexandria, but it is built to live anywhere in the universe.

• “Those Days” has fifteen tracks, which is a substantial body of work. Were all of these written in the same period, or did some come from earlier sessions?

Delivering a 15-track instrumental album was a conscious effort to offer a complete, uninterrupted cinematic narrative, but the music itself actually bridges different timelines in my creative journey.

About 60% of the album was written and recorded in intense, continuous sessions over the last year. During this recent period, the specific vision for the 1960s analog rock aesthetic became very clear, and I wrote new material to form the core backbone of the album’s concept.

However, the remaining 40% came from my personal creative archives—earlier sessions and raw melodic sketches that I had been keeping in the dark for years. Some of these melodies were originally conceived as ambient or electronic ideas, but they never felt entirely complete. When I decided to dive into the warm, vintage instrumentation of Those Days, I went back to those older archives. Re-imagining those earlier sessions with live guitars, orchestral arrangements, and analog tape saturation felt like finding the missing puzzle pieces. Combining the freshness of the new tracks with the mature depth of the older sessions is exactly what gives the album its rich, multi-layered emotional weight.

• Looking at the tracklist, there’s a lot of tonal variety – “Hey Duck” feels very Zeppelin-adjacent, while something like “Cannaregio” goes into jazz and bossa nova territory. How do you think about sequencing an album that covers that much ground?

Sequencing a 15-track instrumental album with this much tonal variety is like editing a feature-length film; if the pacing is wrong, you lose the audience, but if it is right, the variety becomes an immersive experience.

When dealing with genres ranging from Zeppelin-adjacent rock riffs to the smooth, late-night jazz and bossa nova textures of “Cannaregio,” I don’t look at the tracks as separate genres. Instead, I treat them as different emotional scenes within a single movie. My goal with the sequence was to create a fluid sonic journey with natural highs and lows.

I think of the tracklist in terms of energy and lighting. A heavy, driving rock track builds adrenaline and sets a powerful mood, but the human ear needs a break from that intensity. Transitioning into something like “Cannaregio” acts as a sophisticated cooldown—it shifts the light from a bright, energetic stage to a smoky, nostalgic Mediterranean lounge. The sequencing is designed so that each track prepares the listener for the next one, ensuring that the leaps between rock, jazz, and ambient soundscapes feel like natural, fluid chapters of the exact same story.

• What’s next after “Those Days”? Is this a permanent direction, or do you see yourself moving between the electronic and rock worlds?

For me, “Those Days” is not a permanent destination, but a beautiful door that I have unlocked. I never want to be a composer who finds a successful formula and gets comfortable replicating it. The moment an artist settles into a single permanent direction, the sense of exploration dies.

What comes next will definitely be a continuous movement between worlds. I don’t see the electronic and rock universes as opposites; instead, I see them as two powerful colors on the same palette. My ultimate goal moving forward is to bridge these worlds even closer together—fusing the raw, emotional energy of vintage analog rock instrumentation with the hypnotic, infinite soundscapes of modern electronic music.

I am already sketching new ideas that experiment with these hybrids. Whether my next project leans heavily on guitars or synthesizer waves, it will always remain completely true to my core philosophy: pure, uncompromising instrumental storytelling. The journey is about constant evolution, and I want my listeners to always expect the unexpected.

• Thanks for taking the time to speak with us. “Those Days” is an ambitious record and a genuinely unusual thing to find coming out of Egypt’s independent scene right now. Keep up with SHELNZ on Spotify and YouTube – links below.

• “Prelude to War” was written on the night of October 10th, 2023, just days after October 7th. Can you walk us through that night – what you were feeling, how the song came together so fast, and what it was like sending it to the rest of the band the next morning?

Eslam: We were hanging out at Samer’s house (our bass player and one of the band co-founders) I remember that we had the news channel muted at the background and the coverage of what was happening in Gaza, as you know it isn’t something new to us I mean we all grew up watching what has been happening there! But this was on another level, horrific scenes of destruction and bodies under the rubble and each few minutes the screen would show the estimated number of causalities among civilians, it was surreal just to know that within a few kilometers away there are people sitting in their houses awaiting to turn into a number, all of their hopes, dreams and memories are seconds away to be as it’s never existed. I was angry, it felt horrible, all I was thinking about was how can I channel this feeling and how to get this weight off my chest. I went back home, it was 2 AM or something around that and I was home alone, In my mind I was hearing the main riff echoing in my ears, I set up a session, press record and within 30 minutes later I recorded the basic draft of the song, of course it didn’t change things for those people who were suffering but for sure I had a momentary escape. Also, it started that stream of ideas that later completed the rest of the song.

The band really liked it, They have too, who else will write their music then 😊  since we also where adopting a new direction in our sound that started by the earlier releases (Hatred and EOT) we transferred from heavy metal to a sound closer to finish and Swedish metal, bands that me and khaled have been listening to since forever like (Amorphis, Inflames, and many more! So they were very excited about it they started throwing in ideas and it really pushed us forward to continue writing, Three days later I wrote the title track of the EP but that’s another story.

⇒ Read our full review for “Prelude to War” here.

• The chorus – “If you want peace, prepare for war” – is a line that could be read a lot of different ways depending on who’s listening. When you were writing the lyrics with Khaled, how conscious were you of that? Was there a line you were trying to walk between the personal and the political?

Khaled: That line was definitely something we were very conscious of when we wrote it. “If you want peace, prepare for war” is one of those phrases that’s been repeated so many times it almost feels unquestioned—but when you really sit with it, it’s kind of disturbing.

For us, the song is pushing back on that idea. The line isn’t meant as an endorsement, it’s almost ironic. Because right after that, we hit “nobody is counting the bodies no more,” which is where the real meaning lands. It’s about how easily people can become desensitized, how war gets framed as something necessary or even noble, while the actual human cost just fades into the background.

When were were writing, we were very aware of that tension between personal and political. On one level, it can be heard as an internal struggle—gearing yourself up for conflict just to survive mentally or emotionally. But on another level, it’s absolutely a commentary on how systems and leaders can justify violence by packaging it as a path to peace.

We didn’t want to be overly direct or preachy, but the underlying feeling is pretty clear war, in a lot of cases, is sold as a solution when it’s really just a different form of control… almost like a kind of large-scale bullying. And the people who pay the price are rarely the ones making the decisions.

So yeah, the ambiguity is intentional—but the emotion behind it isn’t.

• The music video was shot in a rage room over eight hours. Whose idea was that, and what was it actually like on the day?

Eslam: It was beyond exciting and exhausting at the same time, especially when you have three members of the band that are passed their 40’s 😊, but at the same time very exciting to work on something from scratch and watch it grow into a full production, we had on mind that we need to do this different that time, we decided to actually start hiring people with fresh ideas and to stop trying to do everything ourselves, that’s when Malek our Rhythm guitar suggested that we hire Sayed Ragai front man of the band “Erasing Mankind” who needs no introduction, We met in a coffee place in Zamalek, Sayed listened to the song and from the get go he was very excited to join that project and started giving us some ideas on where we can shot the video, then he threw in the suggestion of filming the video at one of those rage room places, then it took us around two weeks to find the suitable place to do so. We had another difficulty also because me and Ahmed (drummer) we work outside of Egypt and we get to get back on vacations every two to three months but at that time I was at Egypt and I had a few days left to go back to work, so the pressure was on, so as soon as we found the place and booked it Ahmed got himself a flight ticket from Dubai arrived on the day of the shooting actually and we started the logistic part of the process, which was transporting his drum set, Samer transporting the amps, and me just arranging the schedule and going through the process with Sayed and the venue, Khaled as all singers do just had to show up 😊. Then Sayed took over and we basically just did what he sayed. We took four direct wide angles shoots, then we repeated the process for close up and some dynamic shot focusing on Khaled, then by the time we’re taking the last few shots we had only one hour left, so we basically compressed what would take three more hours into an hour and a half. By that time we basically played the song like 13 times.

you would think the day was over but then I tell you that we’d gotten locked out of the car, It was me driving with Khaled, King (our drummer)  and Sayed, we stopped to fill gas and buy some snacks, I left the car running, we got out of the market, I try to open the car door to find out that somehow the car got locked and the keys were inside 😀 😀 so we had to hang out for 2 hours at the gas station’s market until my wife sent us an uber with the spare key all the way from tagmo3 to Sahrawi 😀 :D. So yeah, a day to remember or forget :D.

• You rerecorded the song four times and tried two overseas mixing engineers before landing on Amr Hefny at Ganoub Studio. What kept not working, and how did you know when you finally had it right?

Eslam: to answer this question I’ll have to walk you through our production process, normally the first drafts will contain a plot of the song that would be focused on the song structure, tempo , tuning key etc… so it is definetly would have some changes in that sense, then I basically re-record the song starting with two main Rhythm guitars, this is time I make sure that the Ryhthm section is fixed and will not change in the future, then I send it to Ahmed, who also repeats my same process again drafting the drums, then samer with bass line, Then I get to listen to the song again and start adding Leads, fills, solos, keys etc. then khaled repeats the same process again with the lyrics, vocal lines and melodies. By this time each instrument                  including vocals would be recorded/rerecorded twice, then comes the part where we hire an engineer for the mixing and mastering, we hired one who was very good actually, but it wouldn’t sound right! We wanted to sound right! All the way that time in between engineers and different mixes, I was setting up all my guitars and after that I decided to rerecord all the guitars again with my guitars sounding better after the setup 😊 It was to that extent we were keen to make it right! Then we decided to work with one and only Amr Hefny, with his talent and experience and guidance we felt we were at the right place, he liked the song so much that he kept pushing us further, we recorded vocals and some bass parts again, it only made sense then. A few mixes in we landed on the final version.

• It’s been a few years since your last release. Was that gap intentional, or just the reality of getting this one done properly?

Eslam: The gap wasn’t intentional we actually have around 7 more songs in our pocket you can say the gap was because we were focusing on writing, we were obligated to divide them on two releases, given the production timeline we had we decided we release the first4 on the form of an EP and then complete 3 to 4 more songs and then release our full length album, for now our focus is to land as much gigs as we can, and with us having around 10 songs now we are ready to perform full sets which is something we are working on now, so to sum it up it took us two years to write 11 songs four of them will be on this EP and the rest will be on the album, we are expecting to start working on them starting this summer.

• The EP has four tracks and they sound pretty different from each other – an instrumental, a nearly seven-minute title track, an acoustic closer, and this single. Was there a concept tying them together, or did it just end up that way?

Khaled: It wasn’t really a concept album, to be honest. We didn’t sit down and say, “Let’s build a cohesive narrative across four tracks.” It actually came together much more organically than that.

We’ve always leaned into being a versatile band, and that’s something we’re quite intentional about. Each song was written at a completely different time, in a different headspace, and often under different circumstances. So naturally, they ended up sounding quite distinct from each other.

When it was time to put the EP together, we didn’t try to force a connection or tie everything into one central theme. It was more about capturing those moments as they were and letting each track stand on its own.

In a way, the common thread is our sound, our influences, our way of writing—but beyond that, we actually liked the idea of not drawing a direct correlation between the songs. It gives listeners the space to interpret each track on its own terms rather than being guided too heavily by a concept.

• “Devil in Disguise” as a title – what’s the story there? Is that one of the tracks or is it something broader about the EP as a whole?

Khaled: “Devil in Disguise” actually works on two levels for us.
Yes, it’s one of the tracks on the EP—but it also became the emotional anchor for the whole project.

The song itself was written as a kind of homage to people living with ADHD and Borderline personality. We weren’t trying to diagnose anything or label it in a clinical way—it was more about capturing that internal experience. The idea that sometimes your own mind can feel like something you can’t fully trust… like it’s working with you one minute, then completely turning against you the next.

That’s where the title comes from— “Devil in Disguise” isn’t about an external villain, it’s about that hidden struggle. Something that looks like strength, creativity, or intensity from the outside, but internally can feel chaotic or overwhelming. It’s that duality.

As we were building the EP, we realized that theme actually runs through everything—identity, control, emotional extremes, the fight to stay grounded. So the title kind of grew beyond the track itself and started to represent the whole body of work.

In a way, the EP is about learning to live with that “devil,” not necessarily defeating it.

• You’ve built the band from Cairo, but you’ve been competing and getting noticed internationally for a while now. How do you think about the local scene versus the wider metal community you’re trying to reach?

Khaled: The local scene has changed massively if you compare it to the late ’90s or early 2000s. Back then, everything was a lot more limited—recording, distributing, even just getting your music heard was a challenge. Now with technology and social media, bands have way more control. You can write, record, and release music much more easily, and at the same time listeners can discover new artists from anywhere in the world.

So in that sense, the gap between the local scene and the international metal community isn’t what it used to be. It feels a lot more connected now.

That said, for us, the local scene has always been a priority. It’s where we started, it’s where our core audience is, and it’s a big part of our identity as a band. At the same time, we’ve always had the ambition to reach beyond that and be part of the wider metal community.

So, it’s not really one versus the other—it’s about staying rooted locally while pushing outward globally.

Thanks for taking the time. “Prelude to War” is out now along with the music video, and the “Devil in Disguise” EP follows soon after – keep an eye on Soundsmudge‘s socials and give the single a listen when it drops.

• Your musical journey, influenced by your Malaysian and Australian upbringing and presence in Singapore, evolved from classic rock inspirations to full album production. How has this multicultural background shaped your dedication to reviving the swagger and accessibility of 1970s rock in your music?

Well, I’ve always lived as a minority in whichever country I stayed in… I guess this focus to stay true to myself regardless of my surroundings applies to rock music too, since I liked it from the start and never drifted into other genres.

• How has your songwriting evolved since Rocking Into Midnight, focusing on simplicity in riffs and lyrics, as seen in the jamming sessions that produced tracks like “Baby Baby”?

I continue to chase good melodies and variations on the basic chord progressions we’re all familiar with. So sometimes the song will be simple and sometimes complex, but I always want to put a story or a truth first and build the riffs around it so that it’s one cohesive listening experience.

• Wall Street Blues began as a standalone track but evolved into an EP exploring themes of love and money. What prompted this shift to an EP format, and how does it aim to tackle “mass-market subjects” amidst the fragmentation of today’s music genres?

This came from the fact that not many people seemed to have listened to Rocking Into Midnight all the way through! Even professional reviewers didn’t… So concentrating on a few songs as a tighter vehicle seems to work better – variations among the songs but still focused rock ‘n’ roll.

• The production of the EP featured self-recording alongside selective collaborations, notably with drummers Joel Seah and Jolin Chiam, leading to a raw and concentrated sound. How did these partnerships contribute to the EP’s straightforward blues rock vibe, especially in capturing influences like B.B. King on more poignant, slower tracks such as “Who’ll Be My Friend”?

This is a good one – it took the songs into new territory as some parts were re-recorded to specifically work with the output from these sessionists… I’ve developed a friendship with Joel; I’m working with Jolin on some new stuff and; also a special mention to the keyboardist on Who’ll Be My Friend – he goes by the single name of Jun!

• With Wall Street Blues aiming to cut through genre silos and restore rock’s mainstream relevance, how do you assess its role in your broader mission to harness the irreplaceable power of electric guitars for evoking shared human experiences?

The feeling of power from the crashing electric guitars must work together with meaningful lyrics and choruses that cut through into the heart and soul… There is no other way to bring rock back to the mainstream, especially now with people crying out for good, original entertainment.

• Beyond this EP, what developments are you planning for future releases, including potential expansions in band dynamics or explorations of additional themes to further your goal of delivering rock music that resonates with diverse audiences?

Another 3-track EP is on the way! The theme is the same – to be a salt-of-the-earth storyteller on universal issues – but with a new producer and new recording techniques this one will really stand out!… As far as my live band goes, we’re a 3-piece outfit simply titled The Sanjay Michael Band and we’re gearing up from a lively year ahead.

• “Pray” feels less like a performance and more like a conversation with God. At what point did you realize this song needed to exist, and what emotional space were you in when you wrote it?

Thank you for having me. Well, I’ve been writing ever since I was a little kid and won first place in two national writing competitions back in school, so I consider myself a writer first before being a musician. I’ve always been fascinated by sci-fi and dystopian fiction, as well as horror—cosmic horror in particular. But nowadays, I am mostly occupied with music production and, as a solo artist, write, record, produce, mix, and master almost all of my songs myself, so I guess I’m also an audio engineer on top of it all as well.

• How did you approach creating Beyond Devastation? Or maybe if we can make the scope of the question larger, how do you approach writing music in general? Do words come first, or the music, or the imagery or themes? How does a Parham Gharavaisi piece of work come to be, from inception to completion?

When it comes to my creative process, I tend to finish the instrumental completely before even approaching the lyrics. I start by noodling on the classical guitar for hours every day and eventually come across a collection of ideas that I’m quite fond of. Then I organize those ideas—be it a riff, a melody, a chord progression, or otherwise—into sections to be later turned into full songs. I only start recording once I have the big picture down. I begin with recording the guitars, then the bass, then the drums, and finally the synths/orchestra, and once the instrumental is fully finished, I begin thinking about the vocals and writing my lyrics. Beyond Devastation—being a concept album and part of a larger narrative—wasn’t an exception; the process is still the same for almost all of my songs.

• Beyond Devastation is a concept album set in a universe you created in your short story The Words that Ended the World. We would love for you to share a little about this universe, and about the stories that unfold during Beyond Devastation, and its sister album Infect the Clouds. What plans do you have for expanding this universe?

The universe these works are set in is based on a unique anti-teleological ontological philosophy that I came up with and formalized in a yet unpublished document. Basically, the gist of it is that there is a fixed source of meaning that cannot be changed. This source of meaning creates pairs of opposites (e.g., creation & destruction), and everything that exists is constantly pushed away from both sides of these vectors, slowly turning to and from opposites but never reaching them. So, in a sense, everything comes from this endless cycle of moving away but never towards abstract points (and thus never reaching any). The events of my short story, The Words That Ended the World, mark the beginning of a grave societal shift in this world, and the albums Infect the Clouds & Beyond Devastation explore similar themes and ideas to the short story, but each work is self-contained, meaning it’s not required to know the rest in order to understand and enjoy them. So you can just read the short story or only listen to either album without worrying too much about not understanding what’s going on.

• Having been brought up surrounded by Persian culture, has this at all affected your artistic vision? Does Iranian culture seep its way into any parts of your creative process? Does it influence you in ways we can not see or hear?

Actually no, not at all! In fact, I consider English my primary language, and it is almost exclusively the language that I think in—as I’m one of the people who do have an inner monologue—and speak! I don’t know much, if anything, about Persian culture, and I have been living quite an isolated life from it, so any influence that might be perceived in my work has to be either a coincidence or perhaps unconscious. Additionally, I’d like to make it crystal clear that I do not identify with my birthplace, its people, or its culture.

• What part of creating a conceptual narrative as the one you have created here, and owning it from its very beginning to its very end is the most rewarding to you? Is producing your own music a rewarding process? Or is it merely a matter of being the only person fully capable of bringing your vision to life?

I think for the most part, it’s about exploring the same ideas from different angles rather than different perspectives. It’s like looking at the same painting but under different lighting, or how different sunglasses make you see slightly differently. The picture is the same, but the devil is in the details. I find this process of exploration very insightful and, dare I say it, rewarding in and of itself. Having finished multiple concept albums, I think a musical album is one of the most difficult mediums for the purpose of telling a story because of how limiting lyrics can be, but I’d say overcoming that challenge was the most rewarding thing for me.

⇒ DON’T MISS HIS PREVIOUS FEATURES IN ROCK ERA HERE!

• The music in Beyond Devastation showcases a full spectrum of dynamics and emotions, from soft and hushed balladry, to extreme metal mayhem, where on this spectrum do you feel most at home as a guitar player and as a listener, and where is the region that challenges you the most to develop?

This “beauty and the beast” approach to music, so to speak, has always been a core element of my sound and a conscious choice at that. I have always been most fascinated by gothic and doom genres, and perhaps to some extent melodic metalcore, and I find this contrast between soft and heavy sections incredibly alluring. I started my musical journey with a post-rock instrumental debut album, so I’m well-versed in writing tender melodies and creating chilling atmospheres, but at the same time, I’m also very keen on delivering heavy riffs and chunky chugs to headbang to. It would be very difficult for me to pick one over the other, even if it’s just a tiny preference, so I really can’t say. I love both equally!

• Finally, what are your plans for the coming months, what can fans expect from you and where can they find you?

I’m looking forward to collaborating with more talented female singers across the world, and you can expect to hear more such songs from me. My collaborations will be released on my YouTube channel first and then eventually on all streaming platforms as a part of my Greatest Hits compilation albums. I don’t use social media (and I strongly recommend that you do not as well), but if you’re interested in my work, you can follow me on YouTube and streaming platforms. If you’re a female singer looking to collaborate, shoot me an email at: parham6@live.com