Some bands arrive politely.
Others kick the door open, drag in a wall of feedback, light a candle in the corner, scream into the void, and somehow make the whole thing feel weirdly beautiful.
That, butt, is where A Plague Of Lighthouse Keepers come in.
The Haarlem-based metal collective may take their name from several cultural touchstones β including the legendary Van der Graaf Generator song and the eerie cinematic world of Robert Eggers β but their own sound is anything but borrowed. This is not nostalgia. This is not easy listening. This is heavy music dragged through grief, politics, spiritual searching, distortion, and the kind of existential dread that usually turns up around 3am when the world feels slightly broken.
Their debut EP, Towers Of Silence, is a challenging, cathartic and deeply atmospheric release that blends sludge, post-metal, doom, drone, free jazz, noise, raga and classical minimalism into something that feels both punishing and strangely consoling.
Lovely stuff, mun. Horrifying, but lovely.
A Sound Built From Collapse, Anger And Hope π₯
A Plague Of Lighthouse Keepers are not the sort of band you casually stick on while doing the washing up.
Unless your washing up involves ritual chanting, psychological collapse and a massive amplifier slowly eating your soul.
Musically, the band sit somewhere in the grim, beautiful wreckage between OM, Sumac, Swans, Miles Davis and Pandit Pran Nath. That might sound like a wild shopping list of influences, but it makes complete sense once the music hits.
There are long-form improvisations.
There are hypnotic bass repetitions.
There are crashing cymbals and noisy guitar textures.
There are desperate shrieks, spiritual drones, jazz eruptions and moments where the whole thing feels like it could either levitate or collapse in on itself.
It is heavy, but not in a simple βbig riffs go brrrrβ kind of way.
This is heavy as in emotional weight. Heavy as in political rage. Heavy as in exhaustion. Heavy as in looking at the state of the world and deciding the only reasonable response is to summon a wall of sound big enough to blot out the sun.
The band describe their music as a vehicle for free artistic, political and personal expression, and that spirit runs right through the EP. There is anger here, but also fragility. There is filth, but also beauty. There is despair, but also a tiny flicker of hope refusing to die.
The Punk Rock Of A Failed Generation? Quite Possibly π€
There is something deeply punk about A Plague Of Lighthouse Keepers, even if the sound itself sits far away from traditional punk rock.
This is not three chords and a chorus.
This is the sound of a generation drowning in anger, misinformation, war, oppression, anxiety and burnout β but too knackered, traumatised or disillusioned to organise the revolution.
Instead, the band turn that pressure into something massive and unsettling.
Their music feels like protest music for people who have run out of slogans. It does not beg for attention. It stares through you. It drags you into the noise and asks what you are going to do with all that dread sitting in your chest.
Cheery? Not exactly.
Powerful? Absolutely.
Towers Of Silence β A Different Take On Drone Metal π§
When most people hear the term drone metal, names like Sunn O))), Nadja and Earth are usually the first to rise from the fog.
But A Plague Of Lighthouse Keepers take a slightly different route on Towers Of Silence.
Rather than building everything from slow, purely atmospheric ambient structures, the band begin with a foundation of doom and sludge metal, then expand outward into freer, stranger territory. The result is less like staring at a static wall of sound and more like being caught inside a storm that keeps changing shape.
There are moments of crushing heaviness, moments of near-spiritual repetition, and moments where the music seems to unravel into avant-garde chaos before pulling itself back together again.
It is not polished in the pop sense. It is not tidy. It is not trying to be radio-friendly.
It is raw, immersive and deliberately uncomfortable β but there is a strange emotional clarity beneath all the noise.
Track By Track β‘
βMassacre Of Flourβ
Opening track βMassacre Of Flourβ acts as a fierce introduction to the bandβs sonic world.
The track is described as a statement against the ongoing suffering in Palestine, with the band channelling political horror and human grief into something vast, furious and deeply unsettling.
It does not ease listeners in gently. There is no polite handshake at the door. This is immediate, confrontational and emotionally loaded.
The sound feels like doom metal cracked open by protest, ritual and despair.
βI Fuck Peopleβ
Then comes βI Fuck Peopleβ, a title that certainly does not need much help grabbing attention.
The track is presented as a show of support for marginalised queer communities worldwide, and musically it lands like a free-jazz avant-metal thunderstorm.
It is chaotic, defiant and gloriously unhinged. Saxophone, noise, rhythm and heaviness collide in a way that feels messy on purpose β not careless, but alive.
This is the kind of track that sounds like it was dragged out of the basement of some underground art venue at 2am while everyone in the room was either terrified, converted, or both.
βTowers Of Silenceβ
The EP closes with title track βTowers Of Silenceβ, a more spiritual and meditative wall of sound that leans into the bandβs OM-like qualities.
It is still heavy, but in a more searching way.
Here, A Plague Of Lighthouse Keepers seem less focused on destruction and more interested in meaning, mortality and the fragile hope that might exist on the other side of collapse.
It is the sound of standing at the edge of something enormous and trying to make peace with the fact that none of us are getting out of this alive.
You know, light Sunday listening.
A Live Band Built For The Unpredictable π€
Following their first run of shows across the Netherlands, often collaborating with additional musicians, A Plague Of Lighthouse Keepers are steadily building a reputation for intense and unpredictable live performances.
That makes perfect sense.
This music feels like it wants to mutate in the room. It feels like the kind of thing that changes depending on the space, the crowd, the volume, the mood and whatever strange energy is circling above the amps that night.
Some bands recreate their recordings live.
A Plague Of Lighthouse Keepers sound more like they might open a portal and see what happens.
Line-Up π€
A Plague Of Lighthouse Keepers are:
- Joost Verhagen β Vocals, Synths, Shruti, Tanpura
- Derek Twiss β Drums
- Tristan βLama Waaienβ β Guitar/Saxophone
- Sterre MarrΓ©e β Bass/Backing Vocals
Credits π€
All songs written by: A Plague Of Lighthouse Keepers
Recorded and mixed by: Marlon Wolterink at White Noise Studio, Winterswijk
Artwork and layout by: Yulia Ermakov
The Riff Report Verdict π₯
Towers Of Silence is not background music. It is not easy. It is not neat. It is not here to hold your hand.
But that is exactly why it works.
A Plague Of Lighthouse Keepers have created a debut EP that feels genuinely unsettling, politically charged, musically adventurous and emotionally raw. It is doom as ritual. Sludge as protest. Drone as survival mechanism. Jazz as chaos. Noise as confession.
This is heavy music for people who want more than riffs. It is for listeners who want atmosphere, danger, meaning, discomfort and the occasional moment of fragile beauty shining through the dirt.
A proper weird beast, this one β and we mean that as a compliment.
Listen And Follow π²
Bandcamp:
https://aplagueoflighthousekeepers.bandcamp.com
Instagram:
https://www.instagram.com/a.plague.of.lighthouse.keepers
Facebook:
https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=61558540259905
YouTube:
https://www.youtube.com/@APlagueofLighthouseKeepers
Michael is the founder, editor, and chief riff wrangler behind The Riff Report, an independent Welsh rock and metal publication built by fans, for fans. With a lifelong passion for loud guitars, unforgettable live shows, and the incredible community that surrounds rock and metal, he created The Riff Report to celebrate everything that makes the scene specialβfrom legendary headline acts and grassroots venues to rising bands that deserve to be heard.
A familiar face at festivals across the UK, Michael spends much of the year covering events including Download Festival, Bloodstock Open Air, Steelhouse Festival, Firevolt, Plumpton Revival, and many more. Whether heβs battling the Welsh weather on a mountainside, surviving a weekend in a muddy campsite, or squeezed against the front barrier with thousands of fellow fans, heβs always searching for the next great story to share.
As editor of The Riff Report, Michael writes festival guides, breaking news, album reviews, gig reviews, interviews, opinion pieces, nostalgia features, and behind-the-scenes stories from across the rock and metal world. His writing combines honest opinions, humour, and a genuine love for live music, bringing readers closer to the bands, festivals, venues, and people that keep the scene alive.
Michael is particularly passionate about supporting independent artists, local venues, charities, and the wider UK rock and metal community. He believes every band deserves a chance to be discovered and every festival has a story worth telling. Through The Riff Report, he aims to shine a spotlight on both the biggest names in rock and the future stars waiting to break through.
When heβs not writing or interviewing artists, youβll probably find him exploring festival campsites, photographing live shows, chatting with fellow fans over a pint, or planning the next road trip in search of more riffs, bigger crowds, and unforgettable moments.
Above all, Michael believes rock and metal are about more than musicβtheyβre about community, friendship, and creating memories that last a lifetime. Thatβs exactly what The Riff Report exists to celebrate.
Proudly Welsh. Proudly Loud. Always chasing the next great riff. π€
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