The Hidden Council
Some things are easier to hear when you stop asking them to explain themselves.
The Hidden Council is a new project from Egon’s Embrace and Third Eye of Monkey.
Every self is a gathering: voices we inherited, voices we buried, voices that have waited years for their turn to speak. Some are easier to live with than others. Some we barely recognize as our own. The Hidden Council is a place to listen to them without having to reach a verdict.
For Daniel and me, it is a place to bring what we haven’t found words for. Things we each carried into our music alone, now sitting at the same table.
There is something in our names that belongs here: an embrace and an eye. To hold something close, and to look at it, even when looking makes closeness harder. Sometimes we hold on by refusing to see. Sometimes we see clearly and use that clarity to keep our distance. We are interested in what happens when we stay close enough to let what we see affect us. You can love something and still be unsettled by what you find in it. Learning how to live with that can change the way you love.
We wanted to make music with room for that difficulty. For tenderness that survives a closer look. For the parts of ourselves we are still getting to know, and for what they become when someone else hears them.
Working together means letting those encounters change how we create. We each bring a different way of building tension, working with space, and deciding how long to let a feeling linger before something interrupts it. Bringing those instincts together means neither of us can entirely predict where a track will go. There are passages where our sounds become difficult to tell apart, and others where the differences are what give the music its character. Deep, driving basslines run beneath wide, dreamlike atmospheres. At times those spaces are allowed to unfold; at others, they are interrupted by something strange, abrupt, or insistently human. We are drawn to those shifts; to how a sound can seem almost absurd at first, then become moving through what happens around it. There is a theatrical quality to this, a sense of different presences entering the same scene, each changing how the others are heard.
The dance floor is part of that conversation. The bass keeps the body involved while the atmosphere moves between unease, release, and moments of unexpected stillness. We want to leave enough room inside that intensity for something to catch you off guard, and perhaps stay with you after the track has ended.
The table is set.
