STAHV אֵש (esh) EP
Release Date: Sep. 25th
To the Nynes
Redd Suhn Wayves
Synthetic Lamentations
Statement by Ari Rosenschein
In early March of 2020, STAHV played its last show before lockdown with Sorcia and Grim Earth. It was a loud, cathartic night of rock music. STAHV was coming off dates with The Obsessed, The Well, and R.I.P. and had a new EP out called The Sundowner. That night at Slim’s Last Chance Saloon in Seattle, I was afraid to hug people, but I did a few times anyway. It was hard not to. This was a metal gig, after all. Plus, things were different.
Then everything changed. We all went inside our houses. Nothing was normal. Livestreams permeated my feed; obsessions and fears flooded my mind. During this chaotic time—when grocery shopping felt like a heroic act and reading the news a baptism by blood—I recorded the 18 or so minutes of music on אֵש.
And I put them away.
As the world reeled from COVID-19, the actions and inaction of our unforgivably inept president, and the righteous unrest (not to mention the collective Caucasian soul searching) of the Black Lives Matter movement, I didn’t look at this music. Instead, I learned cover songs, read books, immersed myself in work, tried to keep my head on straight. Until last week, when everything went up in smoke and flames. Like a moth, I got drawn back to these three odd tracks.
I finished them in a flurry. Six months on from their genesis, I knew exactly what to do with the songs. This wasn’t as difficult as the other STAHV recordings. On the prior two releases, I didn’t know what I was carving away to find. The resulting sounds were mysterious, unexpected. This time, I could see the product and kept pushing until it revealed itself. The end product has more heart, more loneliness, and more synthesizer.
So many members of our community are hurting: the venues, bands, singer-songwriters, independent agents. I won’t charge money for the music on this EP. Anything I make from it will go back to other artists. In truth, I love supporting music as much as—likely more—than I do making it.
Esh means fire in Hebrew. It’s the only name this EP could have.
So, here it is:
Conceived in lockdown.
Birthed in fire.
אֵש