Gravegonzo explore grief, memory and the ghosts of the past on An Eternal Night

Gravegonzo’s new album An Eternal Night is a fever dream of memory, fantasy and grief, where old recordings, dream-pop haze and cinematic electronics blur the line between past and present. Out 30 October, the record finds the duo of Sam Beahan and Harrison Bamford pushing their sound into darker, more personal territory, with producer Lawrence Hart helping shape a world that feels as emotionally charged as it is otherworldly.

Latest single ‘So Far’ sets the tone, drawing on John Milton’s Paradise Lost and the album’s fascination with the way time bends around the moments that matter. Across 11 tracks, shoegaze, ambient textures, electronic production and pop hooks collide, with influences ranging from Cocteau Twins and Burial to Charli XCX and Oneohtrix Point Never.

But beneath the album’s spectral sound lies a deeply personal story. Beahan’s father died during its creation, turning a project initially conceived around time and memory into a way of processing loss. Old recordings of his father singing and playing piano appear throughout the record, alongside family VHS footage, bringing fragments of the past directly into the present. On closing track ‘Eternal Night’, those memories become part of a moving meditation on grief, love and the people who continue to shape us after they’re gone.

Inspired by the filmmaking philosophy of David Lynch — following an idea wherever it leads — Gravegonzo built the album through an open-ended process of passing songs between them, reworking early demos and allowing sketches to evolve into something unexpected. The result is a record that moves between fantasy and reality, finding beauty in the strange, unsettling ways memory keeps people close.

We caught up with Sam Beahan and Harrison Bamford to discuss the album’s emotional origins, the power of old recordings and the creative process behind An Eternal Night.

1. There’s a fascinating tension at the heart of An Eternal Night between fantasy, memory and grief. How did Sam’s father’s death change the way you understood the album — and did it alter the record’s meaning for you as you were making it?

Sam Beahan: I started with wanting to do an album that would be an exploration of time and memory. My Dad became ill and then died during the making of it so it then became an unbelievably therapeutic outlet. While I was grieving I had the urge to put that energy somewhere and that is why art is such a blessing. It gives you somewhere to direct that emotion. Some songs like Eternal Night took me months to finish because I think I was actually enjoying the writing process so much as it was allowing me a space to sit in that emotion and grieve. Each day I was trying to find the best way to write the lyrics, I was able to think about him and think about my relationship to his death.

2. The album explores this idea that memory can collapse time, making the past suddenly feel completely present. Where did that fascination come from, and how did you translate something so intangible into music?

Sam Beahan: I always liked how memories can build and mutate or come back from nowhere when it’s their time to shine. Musically I tried to create this subtly, for example the third song on the album Lovers is in the same key and tempo as the third to last song Make a Heaven. I wanted them to subconsciously tie together and musically be connected as they are thematically. Another way was using the same lyrics in different songs. “Eternal night" is used in two ways during the record, a night that will be remembered forever and also meaning death.

The fascination came when two ideas I had been mulling over for ages joined together, how time restructured itself when remembering something and how certain nights could feel longer than others because of their importance. I had been fascinated with time being spherical and having no idea what that could mean but trying to get my head round it during my teenage years.

3. You’ve incorporated old recordings of Sam’s father playing piano and singing, as well as family VHS footage, into the record. What was it like revisiting those recordings and turning such personal memories into part of the album?

Sam Beahan: Tying in audio from my family VHS tapes felt like an accurate representation of how memory works, it impacts, informs and colours new moments.

I’d always loved in films when there was a format change, when it suddenly changed from a crystal clear modern look to an old VHS tape and how that felt beautiful to me and had an emotional impact. I realised I could do this sonically as I had old demos of songs my dad recorded just singing and playing the piano. It felt like a privilege to be able to hear him. Listening to them brought him from that moment in time right alongside me. Like a ghost of the past now completely in the present. Also his lyric “One more song for the road” now held a new ghostly meaning that he could have never intended but fit so beautifully.

4. David Lynch is a key influence on the creative process, particularly his idea of falling in love with an idea and following it wherever it leads. How did that approach shape the way you and Harrison made An Eternal Night?

Harrison Bamford: Personally what I love most about our creative process was the handing over of songs between us. Individually we would both come up with ideas or sketches and then, whenever we felt stuck or momentum was slowing down, we would pass it over to the other. The way we both approach a track is so different that I never know what to expect when I get it back. As a result I think it’s quite rare for us not to finish a song. No matter how many forms that song takes we eventually crack it, albeit completely different from the original concept.

5. Sonically, the album moves between dream-pop, shoegaze, ambient electronics and pop, with influences ranging from Cocteau Twins and Burial to Charli XCX and Oneohtrix Point Never. What did you want An Eternal Night to feel like when someone hears it from beginning to end?

Harrison Bamford: I wanted the album to sound like a sci-fi soundtrack. I wanted the emotions you feel in films composed by artists such as Max Richter and Jóhann Jóhannsson, to be combined with a mixture of electronic music. The record moves through a lot of sub genres, each theme and each sketch naturally evolved that way. What was important for us was that there were musical and conceptual themes throughout that tied it all together. I remember saying to Sam that we wanted to create a ‘wall of synth’ and I think at points we got there. I wanted the listener to feel immersed in a dreamlike world both cinematic and emotional.