Category: News

The Parchment Night is the song of bitterness. It is driven by the fear of vanity, futility, and meaninglessness. The lyrics begin with an accusation born from the realization that the bond in which the protagonist invested so much hope may have been temporary from the very beginning. He recognizes a familiar pattern that has haunted his life for years: hope, devotion, dedication – followed by dismissal, disappointment, and ultimately rejection. As a result, the song is saturated with resentment and disillusionment, to the point where it even begins to question the reality of the “shared solitude” described in the previous track. What once seemed like a genuine connection now appears fragile, uncertain, and perhaps even illusory. The recurring chorus – “Vanitas vanitatum, dixit Ecclesiastes; vanitas vanitatum, et omnia vanitas” (Ecclesiastes 1:2) – serves as a haunting reminder of the protagonist’s deepest fear: that everything may ultimately be in vain. Not merely the relationship, but human existence itself. The fear that nothing is permanent, nothing is stable, and nothing truly lasts. 

This is the point where the album begins to transcend the boundaries of a personal story and enters philosophical territory. The loss is still deeply personal, yet the questions it raises become universal. What is the meaning of our suffering, devotion, sacrifice, and love when no one benefits from them? What remains of our efforts when there is no one left to receive them? Religious and biblical imagery further expand the song’s scope beyond the personal. The protagonist’s grief becomes intertwined with a search for transcendence. Is there anything within human existence that possesses a meaning capable of surviving beyond the fragile bonds of mortal life? Although the song depicts a man still trapped in anger and grief, it also subtly points toward the album’s future direction. Hidden beneath the bitterness lies the first glimpse of a possibility: that understanding may ultimately come not through possession, but through letting go.Musically, the song begins with church organ, a recurring motif throughout the album. Its progressive and symphonic introduction soon gives way to a pulsating, almost thrash metal-inspired section, accompanied by melodic polyphonic choruses whose repeated appearance becomes intentionally unsettling. The middle section breaks away from the song’s initial structure through a progressive symphonic passage built around unconventional time signatures before returning to the main lead motif, verses, and choruses. The final minutes are dominated by growing tension. Repetitive acoustic patterns gradually evolve into increasingly aggressive guitar arrangements, culminating in an almost thrash-metal-like symphonic climax. The resulting sense of unease serves as a bridge toward the next chapter of the story and prepares the listener for the depressive, doom-laden atmosphere of the following track.

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Listen

🎵 Spotify

🎵 Bandcamp

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Lyrics

Like all the rest, you too will learn to forget,
when spring sets in with hail and thawing wet.
You’ll trickle from my face, from parchment night,
while all the world laughs green and bursts with light.

Vanitas vanitatum dixit Ecclesiastes,
Vanitas vanitatum et omnia vanitas.

You won’t recall the solitude we shared,
how heaven’s buttressed ramparts split and bared;
we were the breadth of splintering creation,
we were awareness and a burning oblation.

Upon God’s altar lay the fractured host,
one substance in two bodies, darkening to ghost;
with fingers interlaced we burned, hand into hand,
I scarred myself to you—we two were one, one brand.

A masquerade within the halls of God;
snow drifts on us, our buckling shoulders nod.
Winter again; the stroke of midnight’s dread—
upon this earth, the ghosts go forth and tread.

Physical media has always meant a great deal to me. I grew up in a time when opening a CD, reading the booklet, and listening to an album from beginning to end were all part of the experience.

I still believe they are.

Although I plan to offer professionally manufactured CDs in the future, I also wanted to do something for those who simply enjoy creating things with their own hands. So I’ve decided to make the complete Evanescent Horizons CD artwork available as a free download. If you have access to a printer, some heavyweight paper, an empty jewel case, and a blank CD-R, you’re welcome to assemble your own copy.

Music has always been something we share. If creating your own physical copy helps this album become part of your world, then I’m genuinely happy.

Thank you for giving Evanescent Horizons a physical home.

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Downloads

• CD Booklet (PDF – multiple pages)
• CD Tray Card (PDF)
• CD Disc Artwork (PDF)

Printing notes

Print at 100% (Actual Size). Do not use “Fit to Page” or automatic scaling.

For the best results, use heavyweight matte paper (160–250 g/m²). Cut along the outer edge, fold the booklet, and assemble everything in a standard jewel case.

It’s hard to believe that Evanescent Horizons has only been out for fifteen days.

Like every independent musician, I occasionally look at the numbers — not because they define the music, but because they tell a story.

The first thing I noticed was how differently Spotify and Bandcamp behave.

• Bandcamp gave the album a wonderful initial wave of attention, then quietly settled down again. That feels natural. People come there to discover music, to support artists, and to own the albums they love.
• Spotify tells a different story. After the initial release spike, the listening didn’t disappear. It found a new baseline. People are still discovering the album. More importantly, some are coming back.

To me, that’s far more meaningful than a single big peak.

Concept albums aren’t meant to be consumed in one sitting and forgotten the next day. They’re built to reveal themselves gradually, chapter after chapter, with every return. That’s why I don’t pay too much attention to the highest point on the graph. I’m much more interested in what happens after it. Because numbers tell you how many people arrived.

Returning listeners tell you how many decided to stay.

Thank you to everyone who has spent time with Evanescent Horizons so far.

We’re only at Chapter II.

The story is still unfolding.
The journey continues.

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If you’d like to become part of that story, you can begin listening here:

🔗 Spotify

🔗 Bandcamp

The second song of the album is already filled with tension. It captures the realization that initial enthusiasm often gives way to disappointment and bitterness, even when the intentions of both parties are sincere. To “see the stigma on the foreheads of the dead” means that the protagonist begins to recognize that both individuals are burdened by their past and marked by their own forms of brokenness. Yet despite these differences, hope for a genuine connection still remains. Exile – understood here as exclusion from mainstream society, as the condition of being outsiders – appears capable of binding two lost souls together. A sense of worthlessness permeates the song, echoing Legacy of the Worthless from Thanatology. The stigma of being different becomes both a burden and a defining characteristic. There is also a subtle reference to the central ideas of Horror Sacri: the “holy-painted fields” could easily belong to the symbolic landscape of the previous album and its exploration of sacred dread. The song ultimately arrives at a bittersweet conclusion. The two characters “seal their interlude with blood, within each other’s solitude.” It marks the first visible crack in the relationship: the gradual acceptance that something is fundamentally flawed, yet perhaps still manageable precisely because both individuals carry their own wounds.

Musically, the song opens with an orchestral introduction built around unsettling church organ, strings, and brass, establishing a sense of tension that culminates in a tapping-based guitar lead. The verses feature raw, bitter vocals, contrasted by a brighter polyphonic chorus that recalls the playful atmosphere heard at the end of the previous track. A brief vocal section built around an epic guitar motif and acoustic accompaniment leads into one of the album’s most unusual passages: an orchestral section in an unconventional time signature. Here the music deliberately moves away from the familiar foundations of Baroque- and Viennese-inspired symphonic metal and ventures into more uncharted territory, reminiscent of bands such as Mekong Delta. Following another chorus, the song enters a Balkan folk-inspired section that builds toward its emotional climax: the declaration of sealing the interlude with blood within each other’s solitude. The playful chorus then returns twice despite the underlying tension, suggesting that hope, however fragile and diminished, still survives beneath the growing disillusionment. 

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Listen

🎵 Spotify

🎵 Bandcamp

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Lyrics

In the blackened silence do I learn to see,
The stigma marked on sleepless foreheads deep,
A brimming cup of life pours down on me,
We drift through velvet in the night’s dark sweep.

Betrayed at dawn by weeping, golden light,
In holy-painted fields we lost our way,
And angels tread the frost on plains of white,
Where fate’s dim shimmer rises into day.

Exile entwines us, binding chain to chain,
In strangers’ temples we are the cornerstone,
Unworthy still of mercy for our pain—
Tears are the gift of pure and brave alone.

At last, within each other’s solitude,
At last, with blood, we seal our interlude.

Every song begins as a private conversation. Sometimes it finds another voice.

Once music leaves the studio, it no longer belongs entirely to the person who created it. It begins a dialogue with those who listen.

I’m deeply grateful to Spinlog for their thoughtful review of Farewell to the Angel of Sardis and for becoming part of that conversation.

Thank you for listening with such care and for sharing your perspective.

If you’d like to read the review:
🔗 https://www.spinlog.de/post/darkwave-farewell-to-the-angel-of-sardis

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Darkwave Returns with the Apocalyptic ‘Farewell to the Angel of Sardis’

Hungarian multi-instrumentalist Zsolt Némethy delivers a heavy, orchestral exploration of loss, faith, and unrequited love.

Symphonic Death Metal with Purpose

When a single musician handles every part of a project, the result is usually hit or miss. With Darkwave, the solo project of Hungarian composer Zsolt Némethy, it works because every decision serves a clear idea. ‘Farewell to the Angel of Sardis’, a key track from his 2026 concept album Evanescent Horizons, shows just how far the project has come.

Drawing inspiration from Fleshgod Apocalypse, Septicflesh, and Ne Obliviscaris, the song pairs brutal riffs with dark orchestral elements without feeling cluttered.

The Path to Evanescent Horizons

Némethy launched Darkwave back in 2021 with Hexapla, combining heavy riffs and progressive arrangements. Each release since has pushed into new territory: Missa Innominata brought in liturgical influences, Thanatology tackled mortality, and Horror Sacri introduced vocals to explore doubt and belief. Evanescent Horizons ties those threads together, asking a straightforward question: does love lose its value when it goes unreturned?

Narrative Depth and Production

‘Farewell to the Angel of Sardis’ leans into vivid, dark imagery. Lines like ‘I smiled inside your fire, loved you like the lone survivor’ frame love as an enduring force, even when everything around it falls apart.

Recorded, mixed, and mastered in Némethy’s home studio with Steinberg Cubase, the track blends six- and seven-string guitars with layered MIDI strings, choir, and church organ. The heavy instrumentation and orchestral passages balance each other naturally, creating a dynamic, cinematic movement from start to finish.

For anyone following modern symphonic metal, Darkwave’s latest work is well worth a listen.