NIGHT HEIR, as a musical project, began around the Christmas of Two Thousand and Nine with a single song of the same name. I was in Maine at the time and the tune seemed inherent in the surrounding woods, especially during the snowy nightfall. As the mood and chords fogged up my head it became apparent that an entire suite lay hidden in this single song and had something to do with being in the woods at night- and perhaps having an existential crisis. It's a song cycle and it's specific relation to the evening hour has me thinking of it as night musick. This is a touch tongue in cheek, yet if the notorious term Magick has basic roots in the idea of manifesting the unmanifest then, similarly, I am interested in a kind of music which isn't shy to place emphasis on the need for emotional translations and meaningful unveilings. This is slippery, wordy stuff to be sure. But regardless, sonic ecstasies are easily, regularly and therapeutically employed by various peoples in a meridian of ways. It's exciting and encouraging that the music/emotion connection as a human legacy is trans-cultural and timeless.
Wind In My Dream Mist In My House is a desperate sense of confusion over dream state versus waking life and inside versus outside, respectively.
The album was recorded over the better part of the Summer in the basement of my house in Portland, Oregon. My good friend Adam Robinson pretty much single-handedly built an impressive, cozy little studio which he called "The Clearing." With assistance from Adam, as well as a guest piano performance and a modest choir, the recording was finished slowly and methodically, one instrument at a time.
My name is Sean Barry; any and all future information about this project will be found here as time rolls on.
Thank you for hearing.