One rarely encounters a title as forthright in its ambition as what Nikiré offers with “ETERNITY beneath the stars of God.” This single from Tom Arild Junge’s philosophical project is not something you’d play while sorting the recycling; it demands, and subsequently creates, a specific kind of quiet. The Enya comparison is there, certainly—a female voice gliding over vast, ambient soundscapes—but the effect is different. It’s less like drifting on water and more like floating in the profound silence between Saturn’s rings, the dust motes of the universe slowly catching the light.
The song’s first act is one of gentle demolition. It asks you to let go of heaven and hell, not with a rebellious shout but with a calm, assured guidance. It feels like watching someone meticulously dismantle an ornate, frightening grandfather clock from a nightmare, carefully laying out each gear and spring before deciding the pieces are more beautiful scattered than they ever were as a machine for measuring damnation. In its place, Nikiré posits a cosmos where “relations feed the souls,” a spirituality rooted in connection rather than judgment. It’s an intensely hopeful, if dizzying, proposition.
We’re told an AI was used to refine the melody, which is a fact that sits oddly and fascinatingly beside the track’s humanistic core. A ghost in the machine tuning a hymn for a godless eternity? It reminds me, strangely, of medieval monks who used complex geometry to map the divine, finding logic in the infinite. This is the second piece in a larger philosophical suite, building on a foundation of stated values. It’s clear this is a long, deliberate walk into the abstract.
The composition fades, but the emptiness it leaves behind is textured, ringing with possibility. So, once you’ve swept away the celestial architecture of dogma, what do you build in its place?
