The Savannah-based artist behind Cries of Redemption has been creating this work since 2007, building a catalog that explores the uncomfortable corners of the human experience.
“The best art isn’t the stuff that makes you feel good. It’s the stuff that makes you feel seen.”
“Abstract” throws you into the deep end. They’re atmospheric anchors that set the stage for everything that follows. Think Pink Floyd’s spaciousness meets modern electronic tension, with Silva’s guitar work doing most of the talking.
But let’s talk about where this album really digs its claws in.
“The Return” (featuring Denisse Ferrara) is probably the most gutting thing you’ll hear this year. Silva tells the story of a strip club from both sides: the dancer and the regular customer. The way the lyrics bounce between perspectives shows two people who are basically invisible to each other despite being in the same room. She’s performing survival while he’s buying fantasy, and neither one can break the glass between them.
The standout track of the album, “An Eerie Feeling”, comes in and tackles something most recovery narratives won’t touch. Silva’s writing here captures this specific kind of hell where even good moments get contaminated by what it took to reach them. The track builds this claustrophobic atmosphere where the narrator is haunted not by what they did, but by the permanent shadow it left behind.
Just when you think you’re drowning, Silva throws you “No More Google Translate.” Based on an actual language-barrier disaster with a Latvian collaborator, this track is the album’s only moment of actual humor. The repetitive structure mirrors the frustration of miscommunication, while the admission that maybe the mistranslation revealed something true adds this perfect layer of awkwardness.
The production on the album stays out of the way, letting the guitar and vocals carry the weight. The experimental genre-blending sounds wild on paper, but creates these shifting textures that match the psychological territory the lyrics explore. If you’re tired of music that’s afraid to go dark, or if you appreciate artists who document human messiness without trying to fix it or make it pretty, give “Abstract” your full attention.
Muse Chronicle 
Leave a comment