A dusty tape full of creaks, hisses and squeaks swooped down at HDK headquarters a while ago. Its author, one who calls himself "the Prince of Darkness" (sic), remains a mystery. On the tape minimal sounds, limping scores, silences full of anguished expectation, short instrumental excerpts that have the flavor of foggy and humid winter evenings, of the soil of ancient cemeteries, of loneliness, of putrefaction and decay.


HDK has delighted and entertained you with orchestral soundtracks, accompanied by grandiloquent arrangements, told you about epic feats and made you live "cinematic" experiences... but after all... the true spirit of the dungeon-synth, its raw and crystalline essence, lies in records like this one, which we could define - a bit hastily - naive, but which in the end overwhelm you with their evocative force.

The shadow of masterpieces that speak about love and death such as Werner Herzog's "Nosferatu" or Carl Dreyer's "Vampyr" hover among the notes of this sound spell that we invite you to listen to with the lights off (or at least only in the dim light of your music player display!).