Welcome. I am so glad you’ve found your way here. Please, stay as long as you’d like. Whether you’re here for a moment of quiet or looking for a soundscape to lose yourself in, you are invited and welcome. 🤍
Every piece of music has a heartbeat, but “Rain Deluge” feels more like a weather system that’s been hovering over my life for a very long time. It isn’t just a song; it’s a culmination. It’s a fragment of a memory that finally found its voice. In my world at NVL Music, I often talk about the idea of the “First Voice” or Prima Voca. This track is perhaps the most honest expression of that compass I have ever released.
The Long-Term Project: A Song That Lived in Fragments
There are some melodies that arrive all at once, like a sudden burst of sunlight. Then there are others, like “Rain Deluge,” that are more like a slow, patient tide. For as long as I can remember, I have been playing various parts of this song. I’d sit at my instrument and find myself falling into the same minor-key tension, the same rhythmic pull of the strings, and the same sense of a storm gathering just over the horizon.
For years, these pieces lived as fragments, scattered notes in my head, raw drafts on my hard drive, and melodies hummed under my breath while watching the rain. I always knew they belonged together. I always knew there was a larger composition waiting to be born, but for a long time, I didn’t have the means or the right moment to bring them all together.
Waiting for a song to finish itself requires a strange kind of patience. It’s about fighting the urge to force a conclusion just because the world demands “content” at a certain pace. “Rain Deluge” didn’t care about trends or release schedules. It waited until it was ready. It is with great personal anticipation and a humble heart that I can finally say it is out in the world.
The Compass of ‘Prima Voca’ (The First Voice)
In everything I create, I try to follow Prima Voca. It’s a term I use to describe that internal compass, the “first voice” that exists before the noise of the world creeps in. It’s the voice that doesn’t care about technical perfection, analytical constraints, or whether a song fits into a specific genre box like “Cinematic” or “Classical.”
When I was finally assembling the layers of “Rain Deluge,” I had to return to that sincerity. I had to ask myself: What does the storm actually feel like? Not just what it sounds like, but the weight of the air right before the first drop hits. The tension. The release.
By prioritizing intuition over industry expectations, “Rain Deluge” became something far more immersive than a standard track. It’s an “open-hearted” composition. I’ve always believed that listeners crave substance and sincerity over trend-driven output. Whether I’m working on a high-energy house track like Dunkman (I Can Feel It) or a quiet celebration like A Toast to My Friends, the goal is the same: to be honest.
“Rain Deluge” is my way of documenting a musical journey that encompasses years of experiments and breakthroughs. It’s a work-in-progress that finally found its “Home.”
The Soundscape: Orchestrating the Storm
When you listen to “Rain Deluge,” I want you to feel the atmosphere. This isn’t background music; it’s an environment.
The soundscape is built on tension. I wanted the violins to feel “storm-like”, not just playing notes, but behaving like the wind. They swell, they recede, and they stab rhythmically to create a sense of urgency. There is a cinematic quality to the arrangement that reflects my love for storytelling. I see music as a visual medium; when the strings soar, I see the clouds breaking. When the lower registers churn, I see the deluge hitting the earth.
There is a specific visual I held in my mind while producing this: lightning shaped like a bow.
Imagine a violinist standing in the eye of a storm, their bow made of pure electricity, cutting through the dark sky. Every time the bow hits the strings, rain doesn’t just fall, it explodes. It’s a surreal, emotionally charged experience where the instrument and the elements are one and the same.
In the studio, this meant layering textures that felt tactile. I wanted the listener to hear the “wood” of the instrument and the “water” of the atmosphere. We used diffuse glows and moody contrasts in the mix to ensure the music had depth, much like the painterly art style we use across the site.
Rain Exploding from the Strings
The “Deluge” in the title refers to more than just weather. It refers to the overwhelming nature of emotion, how it can build up behind a dam for years until it finally breaks through.
In the middle section of the song, the tension reaches a breaking point. This is where the “rain exploding from the strings” becomes audible. The music becomes immersive, almost heavy, but there is a thread of hope woven through it. I’ve always tried to create music that holds tension and hope simultaneously. You can’t have the relief of the rain without the weight of the storm clouds.
An Invitation to Listen
I hope you’ll take a moment to sit with this track. It was made for the listeners who crave imagination and don’t mind a little bit of a “head in the clouds” perspective. If you find yourself feeling a connection to the sounds or the story, then the years of fragments were worth it.
If you like what you hear, you can find more of my musical journey in The Listening Room or read about the stories behind other songs like Flooded Dream.
Thank you for being here. Disagreement, interpretation, and quiet reflection are all welcome in this space. I’m just a host, and I’m honored to have you as my guest.
Stay as long as you’d like. 🕯️
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Licensing & Contact
For licensing inquiries or to collaborate on cinematic soundscapes, please reach out via the Contact Page or send a direct message on Instagram. All music is released with intention for longevity and licensability.