2017 – Foreclosure of the Past

This morning I said to myself while staring into the mirror: “2017, we should stop meeting this way…” before realizing it was the 31st of December. And that sums up 2017 pretty well for me.

Despite the hardships of losing my relationship of two and a half years, losing friends as well as enduring unemployment, there have been good moments and I cling onto those fiercely. And it made me see that I should apply that fierceness to pretty much anything that crosses my path.

I’ll deal with my demons one by one, starting freshly in January. I know it won’t be easy and I am aware I will most likely fail on occasion. But there is no other alternative; I can’t and refuse to quit. This is one new years resolution I intend to make and keep.

2017, you’re history. You can move over now while I fully intend to embrace 2018.



Diatribe To A Timespan

I have this custom when at the end of the year I write a post on my blog about how my year was, what happened and how I intend to begin the new year, doing my best to attain what new year’s resolutions I have come up with.

And for the first time in ages, I don’t feel like it.

2016 wasn’t just like any other bad year before. It wasn’t just shit. It was utterly crap.

I didn’t realize it at first, as the only thing I recall from writing my previous seven attempts at making something of this blog post was that I was spitting, cussing and foaming at the mouth at all of the injustice I felt that transpired in 2016.

A huge share of my childhood heroes passed away this year. And through their passing, as the world grieved over lost childhoods, memories, infatuations, admirations and all that jazz, we began to feel mortal. It homed in because of this, like a heat-seeking missile on course toward the target.

It began at the end of december 2015 when Lemmy passed away and only a couple of weeks later David Bowie and Alan Rickman. And the year continued on with more, as one by one they all fell down. Glen Frey, Prince, Leonard Cohen, Carrie Fisher, George Michael, Keith Emmerson, Greg Lake, Piotr Grudzinski, Ron Glass, Gene Wilder, Jerry Doyle, Maurice White… The list goes on and so many more went then just the ones I just mentioned.

February 2016 is a particularly dark moment in my life when my aunt Doris passed away after a short period of being ill. In the midst of worldly turmoil and sadness over lost heroes, one of my closest heroes lost her battle and left us. Moving on from that has been difficult and still I am trying to place everything in perspective.

It’s been a sad year and I fully intend to move on from it. For the coming year I have plenty afoot and planned, but for now I shall have to shroud that all in mystery until certain things are more worked out.

For now, this is Ghost signing off and wishing you all a happy, healthy, musical, loving and safe 2017. Be well all and catch you on the flipside.

Noise or Pictures At An Exhibition…

A new post on the Sylvium blog, this time about the photography used for the artwork!

Writings on the Wall

Hey everybody!

We’ve been quite busy as of late working hard on our new album and knowing that a lot of you are patiently waiting for the noise, here is the album cover along with the tracklisting!

HiRes Cover


1. Quietus
2. Signal to Noise
3. Fade In/Out
Part 1: Revelation
Part 2: Confrontation
Part 3: Reconciliation
4. Altered State
5. Headlong
6. Fragile
7. Coda ( for a Dream)

We’ll go more into detail on these tracks in upcoming posts on this blog, but for this post we asked our photographer Bert Treep to tell us how he came about making the art.

Bert: “Ben sent me the story behind the lyrics. The nucleus of this whole story, the key to this concept that could not be avoided or unseen, was white noise. I had to ask myself how I could represent that. My first tryout was a series about ‘Natural…

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Boom! A Studio Update On The Second Sylvium Album

And here is a new update for the Sylvium blog!

Writings on the Wall

It all started with a joke…

After Antal recorded the piano parts for the demo of ‘Breaking’ (working title) that would be the sixth track on ‘Waiting For The Noise’, someone made the comment about constantly hearing a saxophone solo in his head at the end of the song. Surprisingly, Antal took up the challenge and recorded an example of what it would possibly sound like using a sax from a sample library.

Initially met with cautious enthusiam, as we weren’t sure if this would fit in with our overall sound ( as a band and the sound of the upcoming album), it began to grow on us. This sax solo became such an integral part of the song, we couldn’t unhear it anymore. We decided we wanted to keep this on the record, as it just added the right vibe that we were looking for in that particular track.

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Crash! A Studio Update On The Second Sylvium Album

And here is another studio update on the new Sylvium album!

Writings on the Wall

And now we come to the bottom end of the album; the bass guitars! They’ve always been quite an important feature in Sylvium, not just because its all done on a Rickenbacker bass guitar ( which has a phenomenal sound!), but because Gijs is playing them. His quite pronounced playing has brought quite a dimension to the tracks when we were writing and arranging the tunes for the new album and it makes everything sounds extremely punchy, narly and powerful.

foto gijs2 Hard at work recording the new songs. Rawk!

So although the sound hasn’t changed for the majority of the album, it did for one tune in particular, currently known under the working title ‘Breaking’, where Gijs’ bass playing almost sounds like a fretless bass guitar in certain places, being used minimalistically to create a sonic landscape of its own. You can imagine how excited we were when Gijs first played…

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Dear Robin…

Dear Robin Williams,

The first time that I saw you, you played Adrian Cronauer in ‘Good Morning, Vietnam’. I couldn’t have been older than eight years old and recall vividly how your manic, upbeat and powerful comedy put a big smile on my face, eventhough I didn’t understand half of what the movie was about. And that wasn’t the point at the age of eight. The point was to laugh and to keep that smile there.

The second time I saw you, I didn’t recognise you. You were Mork for the first time, in an episode of ‘Happy Days’ on TV. When one of my brothers pointed you out, I was so happy to know you did even more amazing characters. I was sold, no matter what you did. ( Although we can both safely agree that Bicentennial Man was a bit shite…)

Time went by and as I grew up, I also became aware of other movies that didn’t star you, until I found out you were playing in amazing ones such as ‘Ms. Doubtfire’, ‘Jumanji’, ‘Awakenings’ ( which is still one of my favorites to date), ‘Hook’ ( where you played with so many of my personal heroes that you couldn’t do wrong at all!’), ‘What Dreams May Come’, ‘The Adventures of Baron Munchhausen’ ( although it was difficult recognising you) and many more gems that coloured and brightened my childhood and along that my writing and comedy styles.

Your comedy went beyond movies and your stand-up shows are my favorite to watch of any foreign comedian by far. You took us on a magic carpet ride and didn’t let go until we safely got to the end. I have lost track as to how many times I broke up in laughter because of you and every time I faced a dark period in my life, I would turn on your shows to lighten th eday and be inspired again to make jokes, to laugh and just be myself again.

Your laughter is one I can still not imitate to this date, despite me knowing a lot of your jokes and voices by heart. I is a unique laugh that displayed a sense of joy and love. And this is where I am sad. Because I recognise your sadness too, the darkness that you fought and struggled with, and not just yourself.

The last time I saw you, I was watching ‘Awakenings’ again. It had been a while since I saw your face and wanted to see you in a different light than just your comedy side. You had a talent I have not seen in anyone else. Maybe some come close, but your star went up farther and shone brighter.

I can only hope that you are now in a better place, Robin. Thank you for making me laugh when I needed it the most and know that, although we have never met, you are a big part of my childhood and you inspired me in so many ways than you could possibly imagine.

Rest well, oh captain my captain.

Good Morning, Vietnam!