A Tale of Love and Tragedy – The Origin of Tragédie D’amour

Dear readers,

I would like to start by welcoming you to our revamped website! Amongst the everflowing cacophony of album release preparations, we have been tinkering away at this little number, and are delighted to have finally revived our seemingly in-perpetual-purgatory webpage. However, that is not the reason for this blog post, so now that formalities are out of the way, let’s move on, shall we? As some of you may be aware, our new album, Tragédie D’amour releases this Friday, the 23rd of August, 2024, and as such, I wanted to take this opportunity to delve into the origins of our sophomore venture. In order to do this, allow me to take you back to the beginning…

We released our debut album, Advenae, in May, 2021. This album took 6 years to put together for a myriad of reasons, all of which I’m sure are online in the form of several interviews, articles and features, so I’ll not bore you with those details here. If you’d like to seek them out for additional context, you may do so. Curiosity is the key to knowledge, after all. Advenae was a monumental journey, and in the final stages leading up to it’s release, my mental health was shot, and I was exhausted. Now that a few years have passed, I feel comfortable enough to tell you that between the release of Celestia and To Lead the Blind, I was hospitalised due to a complete collapse of my mental status. This was due to several major external issues, and I felt I was drowning under the weight of, dare I say,  a thousand winter rains. Through a lot of self-work and the support of my loved ones, I gradually found my footing, and was able to function again. Self-development is a wonderful thing, but it can be incredibly challenging. At times it can feel impossible, and every now and then we come to the difficult conclusion that re-shaping simply will not work. It is in those moments that we realise we need to eliminate the parts of ourselves that prevent us from striving towards our ideal persona. This pruning of our identity can often be a major piece of the puzzle that ultimately shapes the best version of ourselves, but it is important to acknowledge that it is also a death of sorts. In the throes of my self development, I experienced this form of selective identity death, and whilst i didn’t like the parts of me I let go, I mourned them all the same. In those early days of rebuilding myself, I was stricken with grief at moving away from a life I’d grown so comfortable living. It was a life that would’ve ultimately been cut short, of course, but familiarity is often a warm fire in the snows of fear. Sometimes, the only way to grow is to brave the cold. 

As the months passed, I began to feel more comfortable in who I was becoming, and slowly returned to the various avenues of my life, including my role in the band. What stuck with me following that period of hardship was the grief associated with selective identity death, and the unwavering love and support from those who were dear to me. Advenae was released a few months later to a positive reception, and despite reveling in the beautiful feedback of those who’d heard our music, I found myself distracted. A spark of inspiration was beginning to form, and I found myself driven to create within the scope of 2 distinct, yet juxtaposed themes: love, and grief. Once the initial Advenae hype had died down, I pieced together a concept brief for album 2 and pitched it to the band as a melding of gothic rock and symphonic metal dressed in romance and grief. The band agreed to this as the direction for album 2, and the rest, as they say, is history.

It is interesting the attention inspiration and creative expression can call to life. In the past few years since deciding on the direction and crafting our second album, I have soared over the highest peaks of love (marriage, becoming a father), and delved into the deepest valleys of loss (the passing of family members, health scares, loss of friendships). The peaks and valleys of life have been both exhilarating and exhausting to explore creatively. It has filled me with wonder, excitement, self doubt and anguish. It has taught me to appreciate all of life’s rich tapestry, and the value of feeling everything – the good and the bad. To quote Isabel Allende, There is no light without shadows, just as there is no happiness without pain. It is my hope to reach people with this album. To let them know that they are not alone in their experiences. I hope our music will embellish our listeners celebration of love, and hold their hand through times of grief. 

Always remember, dear readers, Immortal is our love for you. We cannot wait to share our latest opus with you all.

With love,

Jordan von Grae