Who are you and where are you from? But considering that not even the MA lists any of the band members, maybe you want to maintain the secrecy.
Desperation Eclipse isn’t a project that can be reduced to faces or names. We’re from Germany, but origins are irrelevant when the music itself exposes the core of existence. Anonymity isn’t a gimmick - it’s an integral part of our philosophy. In a world consumed by ego cults and self-promotion, we refuse to indulge in the urge to showcase personalities. What matters is the work - the atmosphere, the weight, the echo of nihilism and inner emptiness. Anything else would betray the essence of our music. Misanthropy allows no room for idolization.
Why do you play funeral doom metal?
Because it’s the only way to channel the unbearable burden of existence into sound. The heaviness of the riffs, the oppressive slowness - these aren’t stylistic choices; they’re reflections of life itself: a slow, inevitable decay that culminates in death. Other genres often try to mask emotions with superficial pathos. We aren’t looking for solace. It’s not about mourning in a romanticized sense, but about confronting the raw, bitter awareness of life’s absurdity. Life is a slow fall - Funeral Doom is the sound of that inescapable descent.
What makes this genre different from others?
Funeral Doom is pure authenticity. No masks, no posing, no meaningless defiance of the inevitable. Where other genres escape into theatrics or self-indulgence, Funeral Doom remains uncompromising. It doesn’t celebrate drama; it embraces emptiness. This music isn’t designed for quick consumption. It’s a confrontation with the truths most people spend their entire lives trying to ignore: insignificance, impermanence, and the absence of meaning.
How would you describe the music to someone who has never listened to it?
Imagine standing in a room with no windows, no doors - the oxygen slowly running out. Our music is that feeling of suffocating inevitability. No pace to carry you away. No flicker of light. Just relentless heaviness that forces you to stop and confront. It’s not music for nodding along or headbanging. It’s sound forged from existential dread, the monotonous pulse of a heartbeat just before everything ends. A form of Death Worship, without religious connotations - more of a reverence for nothingness itself.
Why should someone listen to funeral doom metal?
They shouldn’t. Funeral Doom isn’t a product to be consumed for entertainment or to fill time. Those who listen to it do so because they must - because they want to feel an emptiness that words cannot express. Perhaps they seek catharsis, perhaps validation of their own disillusionment. This music doesn’t offer an escape; it holds up a mirror. And for those who can bear to look, it might reveal how trivial everything else truly is.
What would your opinion be on the relation of depressive black metal vs funeral doom metal?
Depressive Black Metal and Funeral Doom may share thematic overlaps, but their approaches are fundamentally different. DSBM often drowns itself in self-indulgent portrayals of pain, wallowing in clichés like razor blades and suicidal imagery - a circus of self-pity. Funeral Doom, on the other hand, is colder, more impersonal, and universal. It’s not about the artist’s personal suffering but the omnipresent failure of existence itself. Our music isn’t made to sit sobbing in a dark corner; it evokes emotions like hatred, alienation, and detachment - without wallowing in them like a child clinging to a broken toy.
When it comes to song-writing, how do you approach this aspect? Is it a riff or a certain atmosphere or sound texture that would be a starting point?
Atmosphere is the starting point. A sense of emptiness translated into sound. Riffs emerge from fragments of thoughts, from inner tensions. The structure of the songs is essential because each track is its own abyss to descend into. It’s not about “finishing” a song, but about creating an emotional gravity that renders everything else meaningless.
How does this music fit into our hectic times? None of your tracks is less than thirteen minutes long. A quick spin of a single track would take some time.
It doesn’t. And that’s the point. In a world addicted to speed and superficiality, our music is an anomaly. No fast-food soundtrack for the busy modern mind. Our songs force deceleration; they demand endurance. They are a silent protest against the tyranny of efficiency - a monumental “no” to the triviality of modern life.
Could you describe your releases a bit? How do they deviate from each other? Can you already point to some "characteristics"?
Each release adds another layer of darkness. It’s not about evolution in the traditional sense. We follow no roadmap, no conscious effort to develop from point A to B. Inner Ruin may sound more menacing than Heights of Negation, but that wasn’t intentional. It’s a byproduct of our inner states during its creation. Everything we do is an expression of anti-life.
Personally, I find your debut album "Inner Ruin" to be much more menacing than the debut ep "Heights of Negation". Is this a kind of evolution you want to make with your music? And do you have a certain sound you want to establish?
Yes, there are definitely differences between Heights of Negation and Inner Ruin. The latter feels more menacing, more diverse, and is no longer strictly confined to slow tempos and crushing riffs. You could call it an “evolution”, but not in the sense of a consciously guided process. It’s more of a natural result of internal shifts that manifest through the music. We’ve pulled back on the vocals because the music itself should take center stage, not the voice. Words are fleeting - sound remains.
What does your music deal with? What are your sources of inspiration?
Alienation. Depression. Misanthropy. The pessimism of a consciousness that sees too clearly. It’s the soundtrack to disillusionment - a sonic rejection of life itself. We draw from inner conflicts, from the contempt for human existence. There’s no hero’s journey here, no redemption. Just the ongoing rot within one’s own flesh, fully aware of the futility of all things.
I preferred the cover artwork of your debut ep over the one of your debut album, because the lone tree with this planetary disk and the colour scheme helped to set a certain mood. "Inner Ruin" on the other hand comes with the top half of a skeleton. What would be the role of this visual aspect in terms of your music?
The cover of Heights of Negation is meant to evoke feelings of isolation, alienation, and grief. The lone tree, standing under an eclipse, reflects the insignificance of life against the vast, uncaring void. In contrast, Inner Ruin focuses directly on death and the longing for an end. The skeletal remains aren’t just a symbol of mortality - they are a testament to the inevitability of decay, the unavoidable fate that strips everything down to its bare, lifeless core. Carcass Captivity continues this journey. It represents the idea that all living beings are trapped within their fleshly prisons, condemned to suffer until they reach the end - until they dissolve into nothingness, returning to the void from which they came.
You have a release scheduled to be out in early 2025. Can you write a but about it? How does it differ from the previous ones?
Carcass Captivity was released on January 24, 2025. It continues the journey set forth by our previous albums, not with the intention of reinventing ourselves or creating something entirely new, but as a natural progression of the same existential decay we’ve always embraced. There’s no ambition to stand apart from others or even from our past works. We don’t approach new releases with a checklist of how to sound different. Instead, Carcass Captivity is another manifestation of the same bleak vision - a deepening of the wound, not a healing of it. The foundation remains: oppressive heaviness, suffocating atmosphere, and an unwavering focus on the inevitability of suffering and death. Evolution is irrelevant when the destination is always the same - oblivion.
What would be your opinion on AI and music?
Art is an expression of humanity - which means it’s flawed, contradictory, and painful. AI-generated music is the final proof that our era’s decadence knows no bounds. When music becomes an algorithm, a mass-produced commodity, it’s dead. Perhaps this is humanity’s ultimate form of hubris: to replace itself with machines, to finally feel nothing at all.
Closing comments
We thank those who find something in our music that goes beyond mere sound. For those who resonate with Desperation Eclipse, no explanation is needed. The rest is silence. Worship death.
Originally published in A dead spot of light.