There’s a companion I haven’t properly introduced yet. It screams, growls, bleeds all over the place—and gives the silence in my head something louder to compete with.

This review wasn't planned. It started with a photobook, one quote and a vinyl I couldn't stop playing for a week. Turns out the last thing in the parcel was the one that stayed with me.

I was at Atmospheric Arts Festival in Speyer last weekend. Here’s the field report. It includes a poncho, a bathrobe, singing bowls, Riesling Schorle, a bat t-shirt, an emotional breakdown courtesy of a Canadian post-black metal band and the phrase "Hansi Kürsch of depressive black metal". So yes. I had a good day.

Carefully staged misery, dressed in violet and turned all the way up. Works like a charm.