ghost in the machine (song review)

I was listening to a lot of music today and as I am writing this, there is still music playing in the background.

I listened to artists like Soen and Agent Fresco, but also Weather Systems. In September 2024 they released their debut album “Ocean Without a Shore”. I listened a lot to it for a while, but in the last six months, I only listened to the song Synaesthesia. Until today. I was in the mood to hear the entire album and so I pulled the beautiful vinyl (it’s blue with black swirls) out of its sleeve and put it on the turntable. Volume up. And off we went. I listened to the songs on vinyl, playing mindlessly on my phone. Until…

Until Ghost in the Machine came on. The song is built around a steady guitar riff that gives it forward momentum. The repetition works well here. It gives the track direction and a clear emotional line. The percussion provides the structure underneath without drawing attention away from the melody. It keeps the tempo and the shape of the song consistent.

The vocal work is one of the strengths. Daniel Cavanagh carries the main vocal line and Soraia Silva’s voice comes in at selected points, not to soften the sound but to expand it. Their voices blend into one atmosphere rather than forming a lead and backing contrast. It gives the song a unified emotional tone.

I knew the song before, of course I did, and I remember that I mentioned it in the album review I wrote as a standout song, but there was something about it that made me pause today, that grabbed my attention differently. There is no dramatic peak. The song does not build toward release. Instead, it fades gradually. A few piano notes close the track and lead directly into Are You There Pt. 2. The transition is subtle and fits the pacing of the album as a whole.

I like when music is layered. It often changes with every listen and also with our moods, I guess. And that is why we can listen to a song 50 times and think we already know it, and then on the 51st listen, it suddenly sounds new.

My song of the day for sure. What do you think? How do you like the song?

I added this video because I mentioned Daniel Cardoso’s drumming and here he plays the full song through.

Douglas Dare – Omni (album review)

In May 2014, I reviewed Whelm, Douglas Dare’s debut album, and praised it for its sparse beauty and lyrical weight. Now, almost exactly ten years later, I discovered Omni, his fourth and most daring album to date. It was released in May 2024 but had somehow stayed off my radar until recently.

Known for his piano-led minimalism and poetic songwriting, Dare takes a confident leap here. He embraces lush electronics, pulsing basslines and rhythmic tension. Omni is not a record that stays safely in the shadows. It pulses, flickers and invites movement, all while preserving the intimacy he is known for.

As someone whose taste usually leans toward heavier genres such as progressive rock, metal and dense arrangements, what continues to draw me to Dare’s music is not its volume but its emotional weight. There is a complexity in the restraint and a richness in the rawness. Omni feels simultaneously expansive and enclosed, like dancing alone in a dimly lit room while the world fades outside the door.

This is music that leans into sensuality and story. The electronic textures are meticulous but never sterile. There is breath in the beats and skin in the synths. My favourites – Absentia, Sailor, and No Island is a Man – are perfect examples of how emotion can be sculpted into sound. Absentia aches in its pauses. Sailor carries longing like a tide pulling memory and presence into one wave. No Island is a Man is both arresting and tender, its arrangement stunning in both vulnerability and strength.



Compared to the subdued piano ballads of Milkteeth (2020) or the fractured introspection of Aforger (2016), Omni moves with intent. It is bolder, darker in tone, but more fluid in form. It sheds the fragility of his earlier albums without losing the emotional core that defines his work.

Although I only discovered Omni recently, I listened to it all day for a couple of days in a row. It accompanied me through quiet work, restless thoughts, and even the writing of the heavier piece on mental health I shared recently. It held the background gently, anchoring me with its warmth and restraint, just like the best music does.

It is worth noting that Omni is not only Dare’s vision, but a collaboration shaped by sensitive and skilful production choices. The subtle textures and perfectly balanced arrangements speak of a team that knew exactly how to hold space for his voice and message.

Omni feels both nostalgic and forward-looking. It echoes influences while carving its own strange, beautiful path. It reminds me that emotive, art-driven music, whatever its genre, has the power to disarm and hold you still.
It was high time I took the time to write about this little electronic gem.

Find him and his links here: Douglas Dare

Sivert Høyem – dancing headlights (review)

There’s something about Sivert Høyem’s voice. It has gravity. Not just in the deep, resonant tone, but in the way it pulls you in without effort. It’s a voice that doesn’t just sing. It fills the space, lingers in the air, wraps around you. A voice like that doesn’t need theatrics. It speaks, and you listen.

His new album, Dancing Headlights, is his eighth studio album. Short, just over 32 minutes, but deliberate. Every second is used well. There’s no excess, no need to stretch songs beyond what they have to say. It’s stripped back in the right way, recorded live with his band, giving it a warmth that so much modern music lacks. Sivert called it “just a pop album,” but that feels almost dismissive of what he’s done here. If this is pop, it’s the kind that doesn’t chase trends, doesn’t try to impress, just exists, solid and timeless.

Unlike the widescreen darkness of Madrugada, Dancing Headlights leans into something more restrained, more personal. The sound feels warm, direct, as if it was played straight to tape without second-guessing. There are no grand orchestrations, no unnecessary layers. Just guitars with the right amount of bite, a rhythm section that breathes, and that voice, always at the centre.

The influence of classic pop and rock is undeniable, but there’s something distinctly Nordic about it too. That slow-burning intensity, the way songs feel like they belong to long roads and empty spaces. The way they hold emotion without spilling over into sentimentality.

The album doesn’t rely on one standout moment to define it. It’s the sum of its parts, a collection of eight songs that each hold their own. Some are immediate, some take their time, but together they create something cohesive. There’s a steadiness to it, a quiet confidence. Some albums want to surprise you, throw twists into the mix. Dancing Headlights doesn’t need to. Its strength is in its consistency, in its confidence to just be what it is.

Because it doesn’t overreach. Because it doesn’t try too hard to impress. Because it knows exactly what it’s supposed to be. Dancing Headlights is not an album that demands attention. It’s one that earns it.

Released through Hektor Grammofon, Sivert’s own label, the album thrives on the interplay of seasoned musicians who know exactly when to hold back and when to push forward. Recorded live with Cato Salsa (guitar), Christer Knutsen (keys), Øystein Frantzvåg (bass), and Børge Fjordheim (drums), it keeps the balance between looseness and precision.

It’s easy to underestimate an album like this. It’s not loud, not flashy, doesn’t announce itself with fanfare. It just waits for the right moment, the right listener, the right state of mind.

You don’t just hear this album. You step into it. And once you do, it doesn’t leave for a while.

Find out more about Sivert Høyem and his projects: https://siverthoyem.com/

Weather Systems – Ocean Without a Shore (album review)


Weather Systems’ debut album “Ocean Without a Shore” is an emotional and atmospheric journey, seamlessly blending post-rock and progressive elements. As the first release from Daniel Cavanagh’s new project, it stands on its own, marking a fresh chapter for fans of his earlier work. More than just a continuation of Anathema’s sound, this album feels like a deeply personal exploration of themes like love, loss, and spirituality. The addition of Petter Carlsen and Soraia Silva on vocals, and Daniel Cardoso on drums makes this a unique project. One that deserves an hour of your time for sure.

“Synaesthesia” opens the album with a nine-minute epic that immediately wraps the listener in its lush, layered soundscapes. Listening to it late at night, I felt like it mirrored my own inner turbulence—its slow build-up felt like an emotional release waiting to happen. The powerful drumming and soaring guitars make it one of those songs you not only hear but feel deep within. By the end, I felt like the track had taken me on a meditative journey, one where peace and turbulence coexist.

“Do Angels Sing Like Rain?” is where the album begins to dig deeper into its spiritual core. The vocals soar, and the recurring theme of angels adds a layer of mysticism to the track. What struck me was how it feels both delicate and powerful at the same time, with melodies that linger long after the song ends. I found myself revisiting this one, not just for its beauty, but for the sense of calm it brought amidst more complex emotions.

“Untouchable Part 3” draws directly from Anathema’s “Untouchable” series, and while it tugs at familiar heartstrings, it does so with a fresh energy. The orchestration is grand, the vocal harmonies are poignant, and by the end of it, I found myself immersed in a sense of longing—one that felt deeply familiar but still raw. This track bridges the gap between Daniel Cavanagh’s musical past and present, giving long-time fans a bittersweet taste of nostalgia, while offering something new.

As the title track, “Ocean Without a Shore” feels like the emotional and sonic centerpiece of the album. The slow build of filtered vocals and reserved melodies felt almost like a quiet reflection, pulling me into a deeply introspective space. When the electronic rhythm finally kicked in, I felt a surge of energy, like the track was guiding me towards something more expansive. It’s a slow burn but one that rewards patience with its rich emotional depth.

“The Space Between Us” left me feeling like I was floating. Its tribal-like vocal harmonies and atmospheric production felt otherworldly, as if the song was reaching beyond the physical to tap into something cosmic. This track, especially, felt like the perfect conclusion to the album’s journey. Listening to it while sitting by my window, watching the rain fall, I couldn’t help but feel like the music was speaking directly to the quiet spaces in my own life, filling them with both peace and longing.

One of the more unexpected tracks for me was “Ghost in the Machine.” At first, it seemed like another atmospheric piece, but after a couple of listens, I found myself humming its melodies at random moments. The interplay between the male and female vocals added a depth to the song that I didn’t notice at first. It’s one of those tracks that sneaks up on you and lingers long after you’ve stopped listening.

“Still Lake” provides a quieter, more reflective moment on the album. It begins with a piano-driven melody that gradually builds in intensity, leading to a cathartic release of sound. The emotional depth in this track reminded me of Anathema’s earlier works, but with a new sense of maturity. It’s the kind of song that allows for introspection, making it one of the more emotionally evocative moments on the record.

“Ocean Without a Shore” is more than just a debut—it’s an experience that stays with you long after the final note fades. Weather Systems have created an album that is deeply personal, offering listeners a chance to reflect on their own emotions and experiences. For me, it’s been more than just music; it’s been a companion for quiet moments and deep thoughts. Whether you’re a long-time fan of Daniel Cavanagh’s work or a new listener, this album will leave an indelible mark.



Further Reading:

For more insights on “Ocean Without a Shore,” check out in-depth reviews on sonicperspectivesprogreport and blabbermouth.





Listen to Ocean Without a Shore on Spotify