Lighthouses are pretty amazing. They kept recurring in all the books I used to read as a kid, or in paintings hung at various cafes etc. If by chance you aren't aware of them, they are these huge towers constructed along treacherous coasts with a bright light shining from the top (the ''lamp'), to help sailors navigate safely through the rocks at night, while also providing a reference location for the ship's journey.

Their history and development is fascinating; starting as open fire pits, then being elevated for better visibility. Progressing from open fires to candles with parabolic reflectors, to kerosene or whale oil lamps focused via Fresnel lens, to strobe lights and lasers(yep). Desperately trying to overcome natural adversity, investing centuries of knowledge to help guide probably unearned capital, but let's be naive for a moment. It's kind of outdated now with GPS and much better navigation technology.

How is this all relevant? Getting there, but I think it's easy to presume that the vivid imagery behind the lighthouse contributes to it's frequent presence in the literature. After all, it can't get more explicit than being lost in the dark and facing certain peril, then seeing the light. Literally.

But did you know Lightvessels were also a thing? If the coast was too risky or unstable for lighthouse construction at any sensible visible proximity, ships with similarly huge lamps were often dispatched. Kind of like portable lighthouses. And that adds a huge second layer of symbolism to this whole package.

Leaving the safety of stable ground and mother lamp, into the darkness. Accompanied with some self illumination, but also with the task of finding lost ships and successfully bringing them home. What if the lightvessel is lost itself? Illuminating a small speck of nothing, possibly leading others into the void. A living phantom. A bright bubble atop the grand ocean, holding onto it's dearest surface tension, and along with it the fierce false notion of it's own sole existence. Only the waves hold any semblance of rhythym and thus time, maybe predicating a sentence.

This album is an attempt to fantastically document a lost lightvessel, and all the relevant metaphorical implications. The somber, resolute departure from daddy lighthouse. The getting lost bit, with added irony. The losing your mind because you're lost bit. The solitude, the hearing false transmissions, reliving the spectres of past travellers and fabricated dialogue. And a return. And what that would mean. We originally called it Lightvessel, but I think we focused too much on the long night aspect so it was only apt to change the title.

It's dreary and drony. Our boring little Obra Dinn. Hope you all enjoy. We made a video of the whole thing (slightly different music) with some fancy graphics too: youtu.be/g2un0rfFr7U