I’m pleased to share that Darkwave has been featured in Rock Hard Italy, one of Italy’s established metal magazines, in an interview titled “Il lungo addio” — “The Long Goodbye.”
The conversation with Michele Martini goes beyond the musical evolution of Evanescent Horizons. It explores the personal questions at the heart of the album: the nature of loss, the fragility of the future we imagine, and whether love retains its value when it is not returned.
These are not merely abstract philosophical questions for me. They were the starting point of an album that gradually became an exploration of something much larger: the possibility that what we give, feel and experience can retain its meaning even when life does not unfold as we hoped.
One of the central ideas behind Evanescent Horizons is that accepting loss does not mean accepting that everything we have lost was meaningless. A relationship can end. A future we imagined may never come to pass. But does that necessarily diminish the value of what we experienced along the way?
This is the question I wanted to explore through the album’s music and narrative, and it is deeply meaningful to have the opportunity to discuss it in an interview that looks beyond the sound itself and engages with the ideas behind it.
My sincere thanks to Michele Martini and Rock Hard Italy for the thoughtful questions and for giving these reflections a space of their own.
Below, you can find the original Italian magazine page, followed by the complete English translation of the interview.
Thank you for reading. 🖤
THE LONG GOODBYE
by Michele Martini
Compared to the recent past, Darkwave’s musical approach has become even more complex and rich in dark nuances. We spoke with Zsolt Némethy, the mind behind the project, about the evolution represented by Evanescent Horizons.
Once again, you have decided to explore themes rich in existential implications. What gave rise to these reflections?
“Evanescent Horizons stems from a very personal place. I asked myself whether love possesses intrinsic value even when it is not reciprocated and, consequently, whether there is anything in this world whose value exceeds that of our individual lives to such an extent that it could be considered eternal. In this sense, the album is a continuation of Horror Sacri; however, its point of departure is less philosophical and much more intimate and, in certain respects, vulnerable.”
The sonic approach is very dark and decadent. What was your state of mind during the composition process?
“I wanted to explore the difference between loss and meaninglessness not through abstract thoughts, but from my own personal perspective. It is an approach that proceeds from the bottom up rather than the other way around. We often take it for granted that something has value because it produces a desirable outcome. If we invest dedication and love in a relationship and the person we love reciprocates those feelings, that love seems full of meaning to us. If a relationship lasts, we naturally consider it a success. But what happens if we look at the situation from a different perspective? What happens when none of this comes to pass? Can something retain its value simply because it was experienced authentically?”
A pervasive sense of loss prevails. What does this feeling mean to you?
“Loss is one of the most universal human experiences. We lose people, relationships, possibilities, youth, certainties, faith in certain things, ideas or people, and ultimately life itself. Sometimes we mourn something that truly existed; at other times, we mourn something that could have existed but never came to be. A very particular kind of pain arises when we realize that the future we had imagined may never come to pass. We are not losing just a person or a relationship: we are losing an entire world. Darkness, however, is not destined to prevail. The protagonist of the story comes to understand that accepting loss does not mean acknowledging that what happened was meaningless, nor that love had no value.”
When I started Darkwave, I never expected to develop a musical identity overnight. The project began as a space where I could explore ideas without having to answer to genre conventions or anyone else’s expectations. Over the years, I have drawn from many different sources: progressive and extreme metal, classical music, orchestral arrangements, church organ, experimental textures, and the storytelling traditions that have always fascinated me.
I have never tried to hide these influences. They are part of who I am as a musician. But there has always been a question behind the process: can all these different elements become something more than the sum of their parts? Can they form a musical language that is recognizably my own?
Recent reviews of Evanescent Horizons have made me reflect on that question again.
Different Reviews, a Similar Observation
What interests me most about the responses to the album is not the ratings themselves, but the points that different reviewers have chosen to emphasize. They approach the music from different perspectives, yet some of their observations seem to converge.
Rock Hard Italy, which awarded the album 8/10, highlighted the expansion of its sonic world, the contrast between oppressive darkness and expansive instrumental passages, and the combination of elaborate baroque elements with more experimental sections. The review concludes by recognizing my inclination towards “original and distinctly personal solutions.” That phrase means a great deal to me. I have always wanted Darkwave to be more than a technically competent combination of familiar styles. I want the music to have its own character, even when it moves between very different musical worlds.
Heavy Metal Darkness, also awarding the album 8/10, approached the question from another angle. Despite raising reservations about aspects of the vocals, production and songwriting, the reviewer wrote: “Némethy sounds like his own man and the concept finally bleeds.” I find that observation particularly meaningful. The review does not suggest that every aspect of the album works equally well. Instead, it identifies moments when the music becomes unmistakably personal — when the compositional ideas, the emotional narrative and the musical expression begin to reinforce one another.
The Danish magazine Metalized, which also gave the album 8/10, focused on the variety of the compositions and the development of Darkwave since its debut, Hexapla, in 2021. The reviewer admitted that one-man projects do not usually appeal to him, as they can lack the diversity that several musicians bring to a recording. Yet Evanescent Horizons proved to be a positive surprise, with its varied compositions and expanded musical and conceptual scope.
And then there is the Hungarian review published by Acélbetét (for the English translation please scroll down).
Attila Macher initially felt that Darkwave might not be entirely his musical world. As he listened, however, the album’s musical ideas drew him in. One of his central observations is that Evanescent Horizons is at its strongest when its many layers stop trying to stand out individually and come together as one dark, coherent musical image. That is an especially interesting observation to me because it describes something I consciously worked towards while making the album. With so many different elements involved, the challenge was never simply to make the music bigger, heavier or more complex. It was to make everything belong to the same world.
More Than the Sum of Its Influences
These reviews are not identical, nor do they agree on every aspect of the album. They have their own perspectives, preferences and criticisms. That is precisely what makes the recurring observation interesting. One reviewer emphasizes original and personal solutions. Another hears an artist who sounds like his own man. A third recognizes the growing diversity and conceptual scope of the project. A fourth describes how the different musical layers ultimately form a coherent whole. Taken together, these observations suggest something I have been hoping to achieve for a long time.
Darkwave is beginning to emerge, in the ears of others, not merely as a collection of influences, but as a recognizable musical language of its own.
I do not mean that the influences have disappeared. They have not, and I would never want them to. Every musician carries traces of the music that shaped them. The important question is what happens to those influences when they pass through an individual creative vision — when they are combined, transformed and placed in the service of something personal.
For me, the answer has always depended on the idea behind the music. If a story requires the weight of death metal, that is what I use. If it needs the scale of an orchestra, the resonance of a church organ, a fragile melodic passage or an unexpected change of direction, those elements have to find their place as well. Genre is a language, not a prison. The music should follow the emotional and conceptual needs of the work, rather than the other way around.
That was particularly important on Evanescent Horizons. Although the album draws on many musical traditions, I wanted its eleven tracks to form a single emotional journey — one in which the musical architecture, the recurring ideas and the contrasts between brutality and vulnerability all contribute to the same underlying narrative. The fact that different reviewers have independently recognized aspects of this approach means more to me than any single compliment could.
A Work Still in Progress
I do not see these observations as proof that Darkwave has reached some final destination. There are things I would approach differently if I made the album again. There will always be new things to learn, new ideas to explore and new limitations to overcome. But perhaps developing an artistic identity is not about reaching a point where every decision is perfect. Perhaps it is about gradually becoming more recognizable through the decisions you make — through the things you choose to combine, the risks you take, the questions you return to, and the things you refuse to simplify.
I create Darkwave music on my own, but the music does not remain entirely mine once it enters the world. Other people hear it, interpret it, disagree with it, discover things in it that I may not have anticipated, and sometimes recognize exactly what I hoped to express. That is one of the most rewarding parts of making music. I am grateful to Rock Hard Italy, Heavy Metal Darkness, Metalized and Acélbetét for taking the time to engage with Evanescent Horizons and for sharing their perspectives. Their reviews differ in tone and emphasis, but together they have given me something valuable to think about. For an independent musician, it is easy to become so absorbed in the work itself — and in the struggle to make it heard — that it becomes difficult to see what the music communicates beyond one’s own intentions. These reviews have reminded me that something is beginning to connect Darkwave may still be evolving, and I hope it always will. But perhaps its identity is becoming a little clearer, not only to me, but to those who listen. And that, for now, is a meaningful thing to discover.
Thank you for listening.
The following is an English translation of the original Hungarian review by Macher Attila, published by Acélbetét.
Once again, I have immersed myself in Hungarian underground metal, and once again, I have no regrets. What’s more, this is another one-man project from Zsolt Némethy’s workshop, and at first I thought it wasn’t quite my musical world. Then the exciting musical ideas showed me that it very much was.
If my information is correct, this is already the project’s fifth album since it started in 2021.
Stylistically, it is essentially progressive metal, built on old-school foundations, with death metal, cinematic and classical layers. Thematically, it explores loss, mortality, memory and the fragile possibilities of hope.
Let’s get into it.
Gaslight Elegy is a strong opening. The combination of narration and modern riffs already establishes the project’s distinctive direction, while the melodic guitar keeps it from becoming entirely cold.
In Blood-Sealed Solitude, the classical influence is not decoration but part of the structure. This is where the album’s musical thinking begins to become even more interesting.
But The Parchment Night goes further still: heavy metal foundations, progressive turns, church choirs and classical motifs meet here. The vocals also take a step forward: they no longer merely tell a story but become one of the defining elements of the musical atmosphere.
My favourite track on the album is The Godhook Silence, which is more direct in its own way. The classical passages accompany it in parallel, giving it a cinematic atmosphere.
Farewell to the Angel of Sardis, meanwhile, is like a story told by someone in a dark room, while the walls slowly transform into a labyrinth around them.
In On the Turning of the Years, powerful riffs, Eastern-sounding melodies and distinctive vocal layers come together. The result is music that is both heavy and mystical.
We could easily go through every track, but it is better to listen to the album. Because Evanescent Horizons is at its strongest when its many layers do not try to stand out individually, but instead come together as one great, dark musical image.
I was not disappointed: throughout the album, there is excellent musicianship, held together by strong, carefully constructed song structures. It is exciting music, but not easy listening — it keeps changing while remaining grounded in a stable, distinctive foundation.
Zsolt’s voice does not have a particularly wide range, but through narration, growls and choirs, he skilfully broadens the expressive space, ensuring that the album never becomes monotonous for a moment. This music is alive, pulsating and constantly moving.
It is an interesting journey, and I certainly do not regret boarding this ship: it sails across the musical ocean with its sails billowing, sometimes taking detours, sometimes turning in unexpected directions, but that only makes the whole voyage more exciting.
“This album draws me towards it like a force rising from the depths and slowly opening up, until suddenly I realize that I don’t want to tear myself away from it.”
I am very happy to share that Metalized, the famous Danish metal magazine, has published a new interview with me about Darkwave and Evanescent Horizons.
The interview is titled “Genre Is a Language, Not a Prison” — a phrase that probably summarizes my approach to music better than I could have done myself.
We talk about what Darkwave is, how Evanescent Horizons came together, the ideas behind the album, and the different musical traditions that have influenced me. We also discuss the role of church organ, the album’s central question of whether love and devotion have value when they seem to accomplish nothing, and the artists who have shaped my musical thinking — e.g. Jon Lord, Nevermore and King Diamond.
I was especially pleased with the way the interview presents Darkwave: not simply as a one-person metal project, but as a place where extreme metal, classical music, atmosphere, storytelling and philosophical reflection can exist within the same musical language. One sentence from the interview perhaps says it all:
“Genre is a language, not a prison.”
That is exactly how I have always wanted to approach music. I don’t want genre boundaries to decide what a piece of music is allowed to become. The idea, emotion or story should decide that.
Many thanks to Maria Penter Petersen and Metalized for the thoughtful questions and for giving Darkwave this space. 🖤
Read the full interview in the latest issue of Metalized – but for the sake of simplicity I copy it here, too (please scroll down for the English translation).
GENRE IS A LANGUAGE, NOT A PRISON
Behind the name Darkwave there is not a band, but one uncompromising Hungarian with a guitar, a computer and a slightly questionable sleep schedule. On his fifth album, Evanescent Horizons, Zsolt Némethy blends progressive extreme metal, death metal, orchestral arrangements and church organ into a story about love, loss and the meaning that may survive when everything else falls apart.
By Maria Penter Petersen
WHO IS DARKWAVE, REALLY?
Darkwave is a one-man project from Hungary. My name is Zsolt Némethy, and I write, arrange, play, record, mix, master and produce everything myself. So there is no secret band behind the name. It is just me in front of the computer with guitars, programmed drums and the recurring question: Why did I ever think this was a good idea?
The project began in 2020, but the desire to create my own music has been with me since childhood. I learned guitar through Deep Purple, Pink Floyd, Led Zeppelin and Black Sabbath, but I quickly became more interested in creating my own sounds than copying those of others. Darkwave became my place to explore ideas without having to live up to other people’s expectations.
HOW WOULD YOU DESCRIBE THE MUSIC?
Cinematic progressive extreme metal. The foundation consists of progressive metal, thrash, death and symphonic elements, but I also leave the door open to church organ, neoclassical music, folk, electronics, opera and Gregorian chant. I don’t mix genres just to show how strange I can be.
Genre is a language, not a prison. If a feeling requires a crushing death metal riff, I use it. If it requires organ, orchestra or something quiet and vulnerable, I choose that instead. Everything has to serve the story.
WHAT IS THE NEW ALBUM, EVANESCENT HORIZONS, ABOUT?
The album asks one central question: Does love have value if it is not reciprocated?
It is my fifth album and consists of 11 tracks, but I see it as one continuous emotional journey. The story follows a person who falls in love and imagines a future together. Hope slowly turns into disappointment, isolation, anger and despair. In the end, the protagonist is confronted not only with the loss of a person, but also with the loss of the future he believed in.
My conclusion is that certain things have value independently of their outcome. Love does not become worthless because it is rejected, and loyalty does not stop meaning something because you are abandoned.
HOW WAS THE ALBUM CREATED?
I spent about a year on it and handled the entire process myself. The biggest challenge was making death metal, progressive structures, orchestration, neoclassical elements and atmospheric passages feel like parts of the same world.
The church organ was given a special role. It can create an enormous space that is both beautiful and frightening. But the orchestra is not there simply to make the music bigger, and the metal is not there simply to make it heavier. Every note has to hit the emotional moment.
WHERE DO YOU FIND YOUR INSPIRATION?
In music, literature, philosophy, theology, science and life itself. I am drawn to questions about mortality, meaning, faith, doubt, suffering and what remains when certainty disappears. Personal experiences, loss, ageing, love and memories always find their way into the music, sometimes without me realizing it until much later.
WHICH THREE ARTISTS HAVE MEANT THE MOST TO YOU?
Jon Lord taught me to break down the boundaries between rock and classical music. Nevermore showed me that technical complexity and emotional weight can reinforce each other. King Diamond taught me to create a complete universe in which music, lyrics, characters and visual elements become one unified story.
That is exactly what Darkwave tries to do.
GENRE ER ET SPROG, IKKE ET FÆNGSEL
Bag navnet Darkwave gemmer sig ikke et band, men én kompromisløs ungarer med guitar, computer og en lettere tvivlsom døgnrytme. På det femte album, Evanescent Horizons, blander Zsolt Némethy progressivt ekstremmetal, dødsmetal, orkestrale arrangementer og kirkeorgel i en fortælling om kærlighed, tab og den mening, der måske overlever, når alt andet smuldrer.
Af Maria Penter Petersen
HVEM ER DARKWAVE EGENTLIG?
Darkwave er et enmandsprojekt fra Ungarn. Jeg hedder Zsolt Némethy, og jeg skriver, arrangerer, spiller, indspiller, mixer, mastererer og producerer det hele selv. Der findes altså ikke et hemmeligt band bag navnet. Det er bare mig foran computeren med guitarer, programmerede trommer og det tilbagevendende spørgsmål: Hvorfor syntes jeg egentlig, at det her var en god idé? Projektet begyndte i 2020, men ønsket om at skabe min egen musik har fulgt mig siden barndommen. Jeg lærte guitar gennem Deep Purple, Pink Floyd, Led Zeppelin og Black Sabbath, men blev hurtigt mere interesseret i at skabe egne lyde end i at kopiere andres. Darkwave blev mit sted til at undersøge idéer uden at skulle leve op til andres forventninger.
HVORDAN VIL DU BESKRIVE MUSIKKEN?
Cinematisk progressivt ekstremmetal. Fundamentet består af progressivt metal, thrash, death og symfoniske elementer, men jeg holder også døren åben for kirkeorgel, neoklassisk musik, folk, elektronik, opera og gregoriansk sang. Jeg blander ikke genrer for at vise, hvor mærkelig jeg kan være. Genre er et sprog, ikke et fængsel. Hvis en følelse kræver et knusende dødsmetalriff, bruger jeg det. Hvis den kræver orgel, orkester eller noget stille og sårbart, vælger jeg dét. Alt skal tjene fortællingen.
HVAD HANDLER DET NYE ALBUM, EVANESCENT HORIZONS, OM?
Albummet stiller ét centralt spørgsmål: Har kærlighed værdi, hvis den ikke bliver gengældt? Det er mit femte album og består af 11 numre, men jeg ser det som én sammenhængende følelsesmæssig rejse. Historien følger et menneske, der forelsker sig og forestiller sig en fælles fremtid. Håbet bliver langsomt til skuffelse, isolation, vrede og fortvivlelse. Til sidst konfronteres hovedpersonen ikke kun med tabet af et menneske, men også med tabet af den fremtid, han troede på. Min konklusion er, at visse ting har værdi uafhængigt af resultatet. Kærlighed bliver ikke værdiløs af at blive afvist, og loyalitet ophører ikke med at betyde noget, fordi man bliver forladt.
HVORDAN BLEV ALBUMMET SKABT?
Jeg brugte omkring et år på det og stod selv for hele processen. Den største udfordring var at få dødsmetal, progressive strukturer, orkestrering, neoklassiske elementer og atmosfæriske passager til at føles som dele af den samme verden. Kirkeorglet fik en særlig rolle. Det kan skabe et enormt rum, som både er smukt og skræmmende. Men orkestret er ikke med for at gøre musikken større, og metallen er ikke med for bare at gøre den tungere. Hver tone skal ramme det emotionelle øjeblik.
HVOR FINDER DU INSPIRATIONEN?
I musik, litteratur, filosofi, teologi, videnskab og livet selv. Jeg tiltrækkes af spørgsmål om dødelighed, mening, tro, tvivl, lidelse og det, der står tilbage, når sikkerheden forsvinder. Personlige erfaringer, tab, alder, kærlighed og minder finde altid vej ind i musikken, nogle gange uden at jeg opdager det før langt senere.
HVILKE TRE KUNSTNERE HAR BETYDET MEST?
Jon Lord lærte mig at sprænge grænserne mellem rock og klassisk musik. Nevermore viste mig, at teknisk kompleksitet og emotionel tyngde kan forstærke hinanden. King Diamond lærte mig at skabe et komplet univers, hvor musik, tekster, karakterer og visuelle elementer bliver én samlet fortælling. Det er præcis dét, Darkwave forsøger at gøre.
The album received an 8/10 rating, and I am particularly happy with what the reviewer chose to highlight.
The review begins with an interesting confession: he is normally not a great fan of one-man projects, as they can sometimes lack the diversity that comes from having several musicians involved. However, in the case of Darkwave, that expectation was apparently challenged.
The review describes Evanescent Horizons as a collection of highly varied songs and compositions, mentioning Fleshgod Apocalypse, Septicflesh, Ne Obliviscaris, Persefone and Mekong Delta among its reference points. More importantly, it recognizes the development of Darkwave as a project, noting how I have steadily expanded its musical and conceptual scope since the release of Hexapla in 2021. The reviewer sees Evanescent Horizons as the current culmination of that development.
That means a lot to me. This album was not created simply as another collection of songs, but as part of a much longer journey — both musically and conceptually. Seeing that journey recognized from the outside is deeply encouraging.
The full review is available in the latest issue of Metalized, but for the sake of simplicity, I post it also here.
8/10 — and “Impressive, to say the least.”
Thank you, Metalized, and thank you to Mr. Rock Bottom for giving Evanescent Horizons your time and attention. 🖤
DARKWAVE EVANESCENT HORIZONS (SELF-RELEASED) 8/10
The Hungarian progressive symphonic death metal artist Darkwave has just released his fifth full-length album. Normally, the undersigned is not a great fan of one-man projects, as they often lack the diversity that having several cooks in the kitchen can bring, but I have to say that composer and multi-instrumentalist Zsolt Némethy knows what he is doing. With highly varied songs and compositions, drawing inspiration from artists such as Fleshgod Apocalypse, Septicflesh, Ne Obliviscaris, Persefone and Mekong Delta, this release comes as a positive surprise. Since the release of the debut album Hexapla in 2021, Darkwave has steadily expanded its musical and conceptual scope, which for now reaches its culmination in 2026. Impressive, to say the least.
Mr. Rock Bottom
DARKWAVE EVANESCENT HORIZONS (SELVUDGIVET) 8/10
Den ungarske progressive symfoniske death metal-kunstner Darkwave, har netop udgivet sit femte fuldlængdealbum. Normalt er undertegnede ikke den store tilhænger af enmands projekter, da de ofte mangler den mangfoldighed som flere kokke bringer, men må sige at komponisten og multiinstrumentalisten Zsolt Némethy kan sit kram. Meget varierende numre og kompositioner, med inspiration i artister som Fleshgod Apocalypse , Septicflesh , Ne Obliviscaris , Persefone og Mekong Delta, overrasker dette udspil positivt. Siden udgivelsen af debutalbummet Hexapla i 2021 har Darkwave støt udvidet sit musikalske og konceptuelle virkefelt, som altså foreløbigt kulminerer i 2026. Imponerende, ikke mindre.
What I appreciate about this review is that it takes the album seriously as a complete work. It recognizes the concept behind the eleven tracks, the emotional journey from unrequited devotion through grief, anger and acceptance, and the stubborn glimmer of hope that remains at the end. The reviewer also picked up on many of the musical elements that were important to me while making the album: blast beats and tremolo riffs colliding with strings and brass, progressive turns in the song structures, moments of fragile orchestral calm, and the overall large, cinematic character of the production. They also point out some of the influences that can be heard in Darkwave, mentioning Fleshgod Apocalypse, Septicflesh, Ne Obliviscaris, Persefone and Mekong Delta. These are all artists I have spoken about as important influences, so it was interesting to see that connection recognized from the outside.
But the review is not entirely positive, and I actually appreciate that.
The main criticism concerns the vocals. The reviewer feels that the growls remain largely within the same deep register throughout the album, and that this can flatten some of the emotional distinctions between different parts of the story — particularly between anger and acceptance. They also feel that some of the progressive passages occasionally place too many ideas on top of each other, causing the musical flow to stumble. And most importantly from a production perspective, they feel that the mix sometimes allows the orchestration to overwhelm the guitars, while the vocals lack enough variation in colour.
These are fair points to consider. Evanescent Horizons was entirely written, performed, produced, mixed and mastered by me, and working alone inevitably means that I am making decisions from inside the music rather than from the perspective of someone hearing it for the first time. There are always things that become clearer when another pair of ears approaches the finished work.
What stayed with me most, however, was a sentence near the end of the review: “Némethy sounds like his own man and the concept finally bleeds.” That sentence means a great deal to me.
One of the things I have always wanted from Darkwave is to develop a musical language that is recognizably my own. I have many influences, and I have never tried to hide them. But I don’t want Darkwave to simply reproduce the vocabulary of those influences. The whole point is to take what I have learned from different musical traditions and turn it into something personal.
Interestingly, this is something that has now appeared in two very different reviews of Evanescent Horizons. Rock Hard Italy described my approach as having a strong inclination towards “original and distinctly personal solutions.”Heavy Metal Darkness, in a completely different way, writes that I “sound like my own man.” Those are the kinds of observations that mean more to me than a numerical rating. Of course, I’m very happy with the 8/10. 🙂 But what matters even more is that someone listened closely enough to engage with the ideas, the musical architecture and the emotional intentions behind the album — and then came away with their own perspective on what works and what doesn’t. That is what a review is supposed to do.
Evanescent Horizons was a very ambitious project for one person. I tried to make it as expansive, emotional and detailed as I could, while building a coherent world across eleven chapters. I know there are things I would approach differently if I made the album again. In fact, I hope there are. The point of continuing to make music is not to reach some imaginary state of perfection, but to keep discovering what I can do next.
I’m grateful to Heavy Metal Darkness for taking the time to listen and for engaging with the album honestly.
You can read the full review on their website (and for the record, I copied the text below, too).
Heavy Metal Darkness — 8/10
Darkwave is the solo band of Hungarian composer Zsolt Némethy, who writes, plays, records and mixes everything himself. The band started in 2021 with “Hexapla” and has barely paused since, with “Missa Innominata” in 2022, “Thanatology” in 2023 and “Horror Sacri” in 2025. “Thanatology” made it into the Metal Has No Borders readers’ album of the year rankings, and “Horror Sacri” got praise from Metal Digest and Rock Hard Italy. Musically, the band draws on the orchestral bombast of Fleshgod Apocalypse and Septicflesh, the progressive sweep of Ne Obliviscaris and Persefone, and the classical madness of Mekong Delta.
“Evanescent Horizons” is the fifth album. Once again Némethy wrote, arranged, performed, produced, mixed and mastered all of it alone. It’s a concept album in eleven chapters about a soul wrecked by unrequited devotion, moving through grief, anger and acceptance until it reaches a faint, stubborn glow of hope. Blast beats and tremolo riffs crash into strings and brass, the song structures take progressive turns, and there are moments of fragile orchestral calm. The production is big and cinematic. When the arrangements pile up, the orchestra swells over everything, pushing the guitars to the back and turning the kick drum into a blur during the fastest blasts.
For one man working alone, the scale here is impressive, and the heaviest moments crush. The growls stay locked in one deep register across most of the eleven tracks. That dulls the emotional arc the concept promises, because anger and acceptance end up sounding the same. The Septicflesh and Fleshgod Apocalypse blueprint shows through in the orchestral hooks more than once.
The progressive detours sometimes stack one idea on top of another until the flow stumbles. When the guitars stop blasting and lock into melodic lines with the strings, climbing toward those rare glimpses of hope, Némethy sounds like his own man and the concept finally bleeds. This is a big, heartfelt and ambitious album, held back from greatness by a mix that swallows its own guitars and vocals that never change color.
Receiving a review is always a strange experience for me. When you spend roughly a year alone writing, recording, arranging, producing, mixing and mastering an album, you inevitably become very close to it. You know where every sound came from, why a particular instrument enters at a certain moment, what a lyric means to you, and which seemingly insignificant detail took hours to get right. And because of that, it is not always easy to know what remains of all those intentions when the music finally leaves your hands. That is why I always find it particularly meaningful when someone listens carefully enough to discover something beyond the obvious.
Evanescent Horizons has now received a review from Rock Hard Italy, earning a 8/10 rating, and I was genuinely moved by the way they approached the album. They describe it as reaching “even higher levels of quality” than Horror Sacri, but what means even more to me is what they chose to focus on: the expansion of the sonic world, the different nuances, the contrast between oppressive darkness and more expansive instrumental passages, and the movement between elaborate baroque elements and more experimental sections. They specifically mention Gaslight Elegy, The Parchment Night and Farewell To The Angel Of Sardis as examples of these different approaches.
But perhaps the sentence that stayed with me most is the one at the end. They write about compositional and interpretative qualities, technical preparation, and, most importantly, my inclination towards “original and distinctly personal solutions.”
That is something I value enormously. I have never wanted Darkwave to be simply a technically competent version of something that already exists. I have many influences, of course, and I have never tried to hide them. But the whole point of the project has always been to find my own musical language — even if that language sometimes becomes strange, excessive, dark, quiet, orchestral, extreme or difficult to categorize. So when someone listens to the music and recognizes that attempt at individuality, it means a great deal to me.
And perhaps this is what makes independent music so strange and beautiful. There are countless musicians working away in relative obscurity, often with very limited resources and very little visibility. From the outside, much of this world is almost invisible. But occasionally the music reaches someone who listens closely enough, and suddenly that invisible connection becomes real. This review was one of those moments for me.
I’m grateful to Rock Hard Italy for taking the time to listen to Evanescent Horizons so carefully and for putting their impressions into words.
You can read the full review below, the English translation followed by the original Italian.
Rock Hard Italy — English translation of the review
With Evanescent Horizons, the stylistic approach under the Darkwave name (a progressive death metal project rooted in the fervent creativity of Hungarian artist Zsolt Némethy) reaches even higher levels of quality than the already excellent Horror Sacri. The sonic landscapes explored have been expanded and enriched with new nuances, while maintaining the dark and decadent character of the previous works. Darkness, with its many poetic, artistic and existential implications, has guided the author in the creation of compelling scenarios, expressed through structures capable of combining a sense of oppressive negativity with expansive instrumental passages. These demonstrate remarkable versatility, ranging from the most elaborate baroque elements (Gaslight Elegy) to daring experiments, such as those that characterize The Parchment Night and Farewell To The Angel Of Sardis. Némethy’s compositional and interpretative qualities emerge from the listening experience with striking force and are thoroughly convincing, confirming his inspired creative vein, technical proficiency, and a marked inclination towards original and distinctly personal solutions.
Rock Hard Italy — Italian original
Con Evanescent Horizons la proposta stilistica a marchio Darkwave (progetto di estrazione progressive death metal riconducibile alla fervida creatività dell’ungherese Zsolt Némethy) raggiunge livelli qualitativi ancora più elevati rispetto al pur ottimo Horror Sacri. Le lande sonore esplorate sono state ampliate e arricchite di nuove sfumature, pur mantenendo inalterata la connotazione cupa e decadente dei precedenti lavori. Il buio, con le sue molteplici implicazioni di natura poetica, artistica ed esistenziale, ha guidato l’autore nell’elaborazione di scenari avvincenti, che si esplicano attraverso costrutti capaci di unire un senso di opprimente negatività ad aperture strumentali di ampio respiro, in grado di spaziare con evidente duttilità dai barocchismi più elaborati (Gaslight Elegy) ad azzardate sperimentazioni (quelle che caratterizzano, ad esempio, The Parchment Night oppure Farewell To The Angel Of Sardis). Le qualità compositive e interpretative di Némethy emergono dall’ascolto in maniera prepotente e oltremodo convincente, confermandone la vena ispirata, la preparazione tecnica e una marcata vocazione per soluzioni originali e spiccatamente personali.
Sometimes the most interesting musical encounters happen between worlds that, at first sight, seem to have very little in common.
Why My Lord is one of those encounters.
The song is a collaboration with my friend and an exceptionally talented classical composer, After Rain. He began with an emotionally charged classical composition, and I entered the picture with what I know best: extreme metal. The result is a piece that brings together two very different musical languages in order to express something they both understand surprisingly well — pain, sorrow, longing and despair.
The song was written around the feeling of believing in something that never looks back. There is a particular kind of suffering in that experience. It is not simply the pain of losing something that once existed. Sometimes the most devastating loss is the realization that what you believed might happen was never going to happen at all. You keep moving towards something that remains just beyond reach, hoping that eventually it will turn towards you. But it never does.
The composer described my contribution to the song as an attempt to give “body and soul” to the pain, sorrow and despair of believing in something that never looks back — not even in your final moments. I think that is a surprisingly accurate description of what happens when the restrained emotional language of classical music meets the physical force of extreme metal.
For me, the interesting part of this collaboration was never simply the contrast between the two styles. I have always been fascinated by what happens when seemingly incompatible musical languages are placed in the same dramatic context. Classical music can carry enormous emotional weight without needing distortion or aggression, while extreme metal can turn psychological states into something almost physical. Put them together, and the contrast itself becomes part of the storytelling. Why My Lord therefore feels less like a meeting between two genres and more like a meeting between two ways of expressing the same wound.
The visual side of the release also comes from a long-standing creative collaboration. The cover photograph was created by my friend Dávid Ujhelyi, who has photographed several Darkwave album covers, including Evanescent Horizons. His work has become an important part of the visual world surrounding my music, so I was particularly happy that he created the image for this song as well.
Why My Lord is ultimately a small experiment in what can happen when classical music and extreme metal stop treating each other as opposites.
Sometimes sorrow needs an orchestra. Sometimes it needs a wall of distorted guitars. And sometimes it needs both.
I’m happy to share a small but meaningful update: my artist profile on Musixmatch has now been verified, and I’ve uploaded the lyrics to my songs. This means that, from now on, you can follow the lyrics in real time while listening to my music on streaming platforms like Spotify.
For me, this is more than just a convenient feature. The conceptual side of Darkwave has always been important to me. During the first three albums, however, these ideas could only be expressed through the music itself and, to some extent, through the titles of the songs and albums. Horror Sacri marked a turning point, as vocals entered the world of Darkwave for the first time, giving me a new way to articulate the thoughts, questions and stories that had always been at the heart of the music.
Since then, lyrics have become an integral part of how I express these ideas — not simply as words accompanying the music, but as another layer through which the underlying concepts and narratives can unfold. With Evanescent Horizons especially, the lyrics are an integral part of the album’s concept. The record follows a personal and existential journey through love, loss, disappointment, anger, grief, and finally acceptance. Each song is part of a larger narrative, and many of the images and metaphors are deliberately open to interpretation.
So if you’ve ever found yourself wondering what a particular line means, or wanted to explore the ideas behind a song a little more deeply, the lyrics are now much easier to follow. You can simply listen to the songs while streaming the music and let the lyrics unfold alongside the music.
And perhaps, somewhere between the words and the music, you’ll find something of your own in them.
I think I’ve reached a point I once thought impossible. More than 3,000 streams for Evanescent Horizons, over 1,300 listeners, and almost 270 saves.
For a moment, I honestly don’t know what to say. It’s not about the numbers. It’s about knowing that something I poured so much of myself into has resonated with so many people.
I’m genuinely grateful.
Thank you, friends. I don’t know who you are or where you are, but please know this: for a brief moment in time, our souls found each other. ❤️
If you haven’t discovered Evanescent Horizons yet, perhaps now is a good time to step into its world.
Give it a listen — and maybe let it find you, too.
Ratings are always a rather imperfect way of describing music, so I was more interested in what the reviewer actually had to say about the album. And there is quite a lot there to appreciate.
The reviewer understood the central idea of Evanescent Horizons: the question of whether love can have value even when it is unrequited, unrecognized, or ultimately lost. He simply doesn’t agree with my answer. And that’s perfectly fair.
There are criticisms of the music itself, too — the vocals, some of the songwriting, the classical arrangements, and the production. Some of these observations I find useful, some I don’t entirely agree with, and some are simply matters of taste. That’s what a review is supposed to do: engage with the work rather than simply approve or reject it.
What matters more to me is what the reviewer clearly found in the album. He describes it as a “wild ride worth experiencing”, praises the guitar work and the cinematic atmosphere of Transitio Mundi, and acknowledges the scale of creating a record like this as a solo project. Most importantly, he ultimately describes Evanescent Horizons as a piece of art with “surprising depth” and says it is worthy of the listener’s time. That means far more to me than the number at the bottom of the page.
I didn’t make Evanescent Horizons to be universally liked. I made it because I had something I needed to say — something I wasn’t even entirely sure I believed myself when I began writing it. A review doesn’t have to agree with the album to be meaningful. Sometimes the most interesting reviews are the ones that engage with the ideas behind the music, find something to challenge, and start a conversation.
Thank you to The Progressive Subway for listening, engaging with the record, and taking the time to write about it.
