
Hymn for the Unburied
A slow, open-tuned dirge for everyone the river never gave back.
Melodies found in the hollow, played the way the dead remember them.
Every child who grew up in the nineties heard it once and never quite forgot it: a sweet, terrible song that called children away from their beds and into the woods. It was always meant to be the first. A lullaby that is really a lure is the most honest thing a masked singer can offer — come closer, there is nothing to fear, do not look behind the mask.
The arrangement began as a single guitar part played in an empty church at three in the morning. The reverb you hear is the room. The choir is one voice, sung forty times. When the distortion arrives in the final minute, it is the sound of the spell breaking — or taking hold.
“I didn’t want to cover it. I wanted to haunt it.”— Briarghast
Compositions currently being written, rehearsed, or exhumed. Names may change. Some may never surface.

A slow, open-tuned dirge for everyone the river never gave back.

Something brighter, in a minor key. A love song from the thing circling the flame.

Another familiar melody is being dragged through the thorns. Subscribers will guess first.