Album Review: Swanwriter - Melodies of Despair
- Sammie Starr
- Jul 2
- 3 min read
Multi-instrumentalist Koda launches a new project called Swanwriter and releases dark and beautifully atmospheric album, Melodies of Despair.
Coming into Swanwriter’s new music, Melodies of Despair, I didn’t know what to expect. As most of you know, I semi-like to come into music somewhat cold, feeling the music for myself to get a gauge on what the artist is thinking or feeling when creating it. What I quickly noticed about Melodies of Despair is that it isn’t an album you just listen to; it feels like you are stepping into another world entirely - one that feels like a long walk into an abandoned house somewhere, secluded and alone, where all the paths lead to the off-the-beaten-trail to grief, horror, and the quiet places in between, where the mind often overloads and turns against itself.
From the beginning, the masterpieces “The Painted Valley,” “Labyrinth,” and “Girl on the Wall” are filled with so much dark emotional and musical movement. Swanwriter, aka multi-instrumentalist Koda, is a natural storyteller, with each track feeling as if you just stepped into something ornate and tenebrous, its atmosphere coated in spine-tingling dread, classical finesse, and progressive metal grit and heaviness. Shaped by the raw emotions of loneliness, anger, and internal chaos, Koda weaves these emotions and intricate musical movements into something that feels like we are living vicariously through the music itself and the uncomfortable emotions it brings.
Continuing on with “Waltz of the Lost Ghosts,” “betrayal,” and “Phobia,” Koda has an intimate and beautiful way of helping the listener become one with the darkness. Perhaps what makes Melodies of Despair so intriguing is not just the darkness itself, but the sincerity with which these emotions and musical arrangements arise. Moments like “Waltz of the Lost Ghost” show just how talented Koda is at creating soundscapes where beauty and terror coexist - like ghost kisses on the face - all the while feeling deep within the pit of the stomach that one wants to run but can’t. In this intricate ballet of classical, cinematic fantasy, and metal gravitas, Koda’s unique twists and turns from melodic to heavy bleed through these tracks. From the harpsichord embellishments to the Bach-inspired theming of these tracks, there is a delicate yet pained existence, especially in gorgeous moments like “Betrayal” and “Phobia,” that feels like lived-in art, not technical extravagance for its own sake. Despite the beauty sewn into its metallic environments, none of these tracks feel safe. In each of these moments, the more tender ones always feel like they're being swallowed up by something heavier, murkier, and more primal all the way up to the last track.
Melodies of Despair's power lies in its contrast - the way its honesty and violent nature circle each other, unable to fully part ways from one another. A story of obsession, loss, and grief, Melodies of Despair is not an album that tries to offer any catharsis; it's overwhelming, almost on purpose. There is no sense of triumph, no place where the anger finds a place to go, and certainly no moment where one escapes darkness. Instead, Melodies of Despair is an experience that forces itself to live in the trauma: the numbness, the quiet devastation, and an ache of sadness that seems never to heal from loss, even with time. Koda’s compositions feel like someone is trying to figure out their own internal mess, and perhaps that is what makes this album so emotionally impactful: every piece of intentionality is a wound that keeps reopening, reminding one of what is lost. And yet, strangely so - despite it all, the beauty is still there: broken, flickering, but still real.
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