by Samuel de Vries

For our latest single, 'I Taliesin', I wanted to open a little window into how the piece came together—how the music, the folklore, and the visual world around it converged into one shared creation.

The piece didn’t start with a narrative or a theme; it began with a riff on a syncopated rhythm that Timon brought in. I developed the arrangement around it. Guitar, bouzouki, and darbuka established a steady rhythmic base that shaped the rest of the track. Almost everything that came later grew naturally out of that early foundation.

Meanwhile, our visual artist Krael dove headfirst into Taliesin lore. Because the music itself never recounts any specific episode from the legend, she had full freedom to choose which strand of the tradition to explore—and with Taliesin, the well of lore is quite deep. She gravitated toward the transformations of Gwion Bach, especially the hare, fish, and bird. As a band, that choice felt instinctive: those shapes echo the song’s own sense of invocation and shifting form. Her artwork doesn’t retell the myth outright; it hints at it—an image that breathes Taliesin’s identity.

Production-wise, the track held onto its roots. The trio of guitar, bouzouki, and percussion remained almost unchanged throughout the entire process. Only later did the recorder melody arrive, moving gently through the rhythmic motive with an almost cyclical nature to it, almost looping in its own breath. A soft layer of hurdy-gurdy followed, deepening the atmosphere. It ends by stepping outward, leaving the ritual circle behind.

In the end, and at least to me the track became a sort of transformative ritual that still feels like something that could have been a narrative song... But rather than explaining Taliesin, the lyrics reach towards him.