Initially keeping his compositions to himself, Erewän's encounter with Alexandre Lamia in late 2015 encouraged him to share his work with a wider audience. From that encounter blossomed not only a strong friendship, but also a demo in 2017 which remained fairly confidential, followed by a more widely shared album in 2021, How Will All This End (see review). Since then, new compositions and collaborations have emerged. Rather than a linear narrative, Soul Is The Key feels like a guided dream—part spiritual quest, part inner monologue, part Celtic opera. It's lush without being overproduced, and emotionally resonant without ever lapsing into melodrama. The production is warm and organic, with acoustic textures front and centre, but there's also a subtle symphonic undercurrent that gives the whole thing a cinematic sweep...oh, and some incredibly good guitar work! Vocally, Erewän leans into a gentle, almost bardic delivery—more storyteller than showman. His voice isn't flashy, but it's sincere, and that sincerity is the glue holding the album's more ethereal elements together. At times his vocal delivery reminds me of Pat Fish (The Jazz Butcher). Musically, the album draws from a wide palette from Celtic folk, Prog rock and Orchestral rock. There's a clear reverence for artists like Mike Oldfield, Alan Stivell, Ripaille and even the softer side of Camel, but Erewän isn't just echoing his influences—he's synthesizing them into something personal. The best tracks are Greetings From Slumberland, Revealing Walls, There's A Way and the title track, but ultimately the album should be experienced as a whole. The pacing is deliberate—some might say meditative. It doesn't rush to impress. Instead, it invites you to slow down, breathe, and listen with your whole self. There's a recurring tension between sleep and wakefulness, illusion and clarity, solitude and connection. It's not a concept album in the strict sense, but it's thematically cohesive in a way that rewards full-album listening. Soul Is The Key is a rare thing: a prog-folk album that feels both ancient and modern, intimate and expansive. It's not trying to reinvent the wheel—it's trying to remind you why the wheel mattered in the first place. For fans of narrative-driven music, Celtic textures, and emotionally intelligent songwriting, this is a quiet triumph. It's also a strong argument for the continued relevance of the album as an art form. In a world of singles and algorithms, Erewän is crafting musical journeys. ***+ David Carswell Where to buy? |
