Lunar & The Deception Step Into the Shadows with “Eclipse”

UK-based four-piece Lunar & The Deception are no strangers to weaving mythology, gothic romanticism, and celestial mystique into their music. With their new single “Eclipse” (out August 8th via Xray Sound), the band deliver a haunting blend of baroque instrumentation, glitchy electronica, and operatic vocals, setting the stage for their long-awaited debut album.

We caught up with frontwoman Britt Xyra Dusk to talk spirit animals, clavichords, and why their music is as much about myth as it is about melody.

“Eclipse” blends baroque instrumentation, glitchy electronica, and operatic vocals. How did you approach combining such diverse elements into one track?

We were just jamming one Sunday night in the living room, playing around with Hedge’s grandfather’s clavichord, and that’s when the hook came. The clavichord’s tone inspired the vocal pitch — it had this eerie but uplifting gothic darkness I loved. Greg is our glitch wizard, always deep in synths and strange textures, and everyone brought their own colours to it. We let the song lead us without judgement, and it became its own world. Hedge insisted on live strings, so we brought in Héloïse Werner and Barbara Bartz on cello and violin.

The lyrics traverse conflict, transformation, and resolution. What story or message were you most keen to convey?

For me, it’s a journey of self-discovery in a chaotic world. There’s so much unraveling around us right now — who or what is going to save us? My spirit animal is the owl, and that energy came through here. It felt like a dialogue between humanity and the animal world. When you look into an animal’s eyes, sometimes you don’t know if they’re asking you for help or if you’re asking them. Spirit animals are always guiding from the edges, if you choose to look.

Britt, your interests in mythology, ancient civilizations, and moon worship clearly filter into the band’s work. How do these themes shape the sound and visuals?

The themes definitely shape the subject matter of the lyrics. I’ll often write about whatever myth, deity, or ancient culture I’m researching at the time. For example, we have a track on the album called “The Storm”, which began as a song about Oya, the Yoruba goddess of wind and lightning. These myths are the human story — they’re part of our DNA. The band brings the sound, but mythology gives us the stories to tell.

You’ve played stages from Glastonbury to grassroots venues. How do you bring the cinematic, dream-like quality of your recordings to life on stage?

We scale depending on the stage, but we always aim to keep the dreamlike atmosphere. At Glastonbury, it was more stripped back. One day, I’d love to play the Royal Albert Hall with a full string and brass section — that would be the ultimate translation of what we do.

Looking ahead to your debut album, how does “Eclipse” set the tone for the record?

It’s one of the stranger tracks, but it sets the scene. Every song is different, with shifting instrumentation. “The Great Bison” is tribal and shamanic, full of layered percussion and primal energy. “The Way Down” is led by the lyre. For me, songs are keys — they unlock doors in the heart, spirit, or imagination. The album is a journey, and “Eclipse” is the moment you first step into the shadows.