Haunted Bedrooms established the Jilk sound with a clash of cascading chamber instruments meeting brittle electronics and experimental noise. Frequently quiet and emotional but also edged with spikes and sharp teeth. On Syrup House, however, the collective dig out a much smoother and sweeter sound. And while ‘expect the unexpected’ should still be your guiding principle, here you can dive deep into luscious droning textures and swelling orchestration which sits alongside the warmth of analogue house and techno.
A series of church based improvisations are reworked into clockwork symphonies of clattering percussion and driving, joyous synth workouts. Vocals are much more present in the Syrup House, as Jilk draws from ethereal dream pop motifs while deconstructing traditional song structures into warm blankets of cloudy dynamics.
Syrup House follows a loose narrative about a magic-realist night club that appears and disappears at will. Inside, a labyrinthine interior contains corridors of ecstatic love and self realisation. Ultimately, during testing times, it is compassion that will prevail and Syrup House is where that compassion goes to dance away the blues.