Like a wraith unbound
Your words melt into my heart
But you’re nothing more than bones and dust
Sown within a marble hearth
Januarius, a fixture of the Philly underground since the early 2000s, has carved their path through DC’s tumultuous music scene, leaving echoes in bands like The Chance, The Mirror Script, and Ghost Light. Their transformation began amidst Philadelphia’s South Street—a gritty, electric artery brimming with punk’s unruly pulse. In the shadow of venues like the Trocadero and amidst the chaos of record stores and shuttered havens like Zipperhead, they found a raw, defiant energy that transcended sound. Punk’s snarling ethos wasn’t a cage but a key, unlocking a post-punk sensibility where freedom trumped form. Fueled by a fervent DIY spirit, Januarius embodies rebellion as reinvention, a reminder that punk’s soul isn’t in rules, but in the refusal to follow them.
His latest offering, Sepulchres, was inspired by the poem Dei Sepolcri by the dark romantic poet, Ugo Foscolo. Sepulchres unfolds as a mournful hymn, its tender vocals crooning with quiet sorrow over a bed of blues-tinged guitars and steady, post-punk drumming. Echoing atmospherics wrap the track in a spectral embrace, while transcendent synths rise like a requiem, lifting the song toward something both otherworldly and achingly human—a poignant ode to the departed.
“His poetry is one of my biggest lyrical influences,” says Januarius. “The song tells the story of a transcendent experience that occurred upon visiting his tomb in Florence.”
The lyrics depict a haunting journey through love, loss, and remembrance, blending imagery of decay and beauty. They explore themes of devotion and longing, addressing a departed presence, intertwining memories with the ethereal. A sense of transcendence emerges, moving from despair to a dreamlike voyage, sailing through grief toward an imagined midnight sky.
Sepulchres is the last single from the forthcoming album Glass Eyes, Glass Ghosts, which will be released in January or February. Listen to Sepulchres below and order the single here.
“My main creative influence has always been Philadelphia,” he reflects. “I grew up in an era of urban blight, which forced me to look at the world differently and find beauty in places where one wouldn’t typically experience it…I’ve always felt like a perpetual outsider my whole life and can be rather misanthropic in terms of my hopes for humanity…Whether it was growing up gay and artistically minded in a tough working-class urban area, not fitting in with the DC music scene, or despising the soulless pablum of the modern LGBT world, I’ve always been on the outside. Never blend in.”
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