AHRAYEPH

“Reverse this cold fate, The hour's near too late. And shine on me, Shine on me.“

Earlier this year, Ahráyeph resurfaced from the shadows with a new double single: The Indian Summer / January Pale. Released at the threshold of 2026, the songs arrived not as a declaration but as a quiet inevitability. Two pieces instead of one — born from seasons, yet ruled by feeling rather than climate. One lingers in the dying warmth of light that should have faded long ago, soft and melancholic; the other sinks into January’s colourless aftermath, the long comedown after celebration, where emptiness settles in and refuses to loosen its grip. Together, they breathe in, and exhale, the first fragile signal of a new year.

It is this refusal of stillness that brings me back to Raf Ahráyeph. The last time we spoke was November 2024, yet the distance feels purely theoretical — as if the music never truly stopped speaking in the meantime. Barely months after The Final Hurt left its bruise, his creative mind continues to circle restlessly, turning fatigue, observation and quiet unease into sound. In Ahráyeph’s universe, weariness is not an end point but raw material; discomfort is not silenced, but shaped, translated, and given voice.

For those stepping into this world for the first time, Ahráyeph is not a band in the traditional sense, but a solitary conduit through which a Belgian musician channels his inner terrain. Progressive forms entwine with gothic melancholy, creating songs that feel both meticulously sculpted and painfully necessary. The term Prog Goth may serve as a signpost, but it cannot contain the atmosphere that defines this project — music that hangs in the air like smoke in an abandoned cathedral, beautiful and suffocating in equal measure. Raf once reduced it to a simple truth: dark is good. And in Ahráyeph’s hands, darkness is not an aesthetic choice, but an honest language — one that confronts rather than consoles, carving clarity out of shadow.

Raf, thank you for taking the time to speak with us again at this fading moment of the day. It’s genuinely a pleasure to be back in conversation with you. The last time we spoke was in November 2024, as if it were yesterday. If you were to describe that period through song titles — either from your own work or from artists you look up to — which titles would come to mind?

Hello Hayley. It's also a genuine pleasure on my part to be talking to you again.

A lot can happen in a year and a handful of months on many levels, so there are potentially a lot of songs that could serve as descriptors for certain times and events during that period, so I suppose I could fill this entire interview with song titles. Some that come to mind are 'Promised Land' by Queensrÿche, Anne Clark's 'The Key', Porcupine Tree's 'Arriving Somewhere But Not Here', Marillion's 'The Rakes Progress' and 'Be Hard On Yourself', Pink Floyd's 'Welcome To The Machine' and, finally, the songs on my own new single 'The Indian Summer' and 'January Pale'.

Judging by the songs you mentioned, it sounds — lightly put — like a path with its fair share of obstacles. What keeps you going in this world? What lifts your spirits?

Rolling over and giving up isn't going to improve your situation, so the only alternative is to keep going. And as for lifting my spirits, there's a person I talk to every day, whose sense of humor, insights and creative way of expression - and creativity as a whole - always manages to bring some light and levity to my day. That helps to keep my spirits up as well as to sometimes provide a distraction from those obstacles when they get too much.

Those obstacles, the resilience and the decision to keep moving forward — how consciously do they translate into your songwriting and compositions? Did they, for instance, influence The Final Hurt, released a little over five months ago?

They did, and do, indeed. I write about what I know, which in the first instance is my own life and the things I observe in the world around me. Music is my most beloved form of emotional expression; lyric writing, on the other hand, is kind of an exorcism of all the negativity and darkness I experience or see in my social circle. It is not - and I cannot stress this enough - one endless lament of how my life sucks. In exorcising this darkness in this way, I want to rid myself of it, not wallow in it or abuse it to garner sympathy, which is what some people just love to do: milking and even exaggerating the mishaps in their lives to play the victim for all its worth. I do not revel in darkness. I embrace it in order to control it. It's kind of a sonic exorcism ritual, and my songs are - pun not intended - instrumental in that ritual. Writing songs in this way allows me to get on with my life and not spend too much time in the doom and gloom of it all, no matter how dire things may get, even if that does still get the better of me sometimes. I'm only human, after all...

The Final Hurt marks your fourth studio album — one on which you once again assert your signature sound with conviction. If you compare its creative process with that of Marooned on Samsara, your first album, are there elements you feel have strengthened you as a musician over the course of this journey? And what does this fourth album mean to you, both personally and artistically?

It's a given that you grow as an artist with every progressive step. You learn things each step of the way as you hone and refine your craft. 'Marooned On Samsara' was a good start, but if you look only to a few years later, when I wrote the 'Desert Songs' E.P., the progression is notable, not least in the lyrics. Also, the productional side of the process has been improving considerably. Music seems to come naturally to me; I don't have to try hard to have ideas, they even come to me in dreams. Of course, it sometimes takes some effort to build them into finished songs, but I don't consider that 'hard work'. Production, on the other hand, is something I had to work hard to get good at and finally reaching a level with which I'm satisfied feels very rewarding. All that hard work is culminated in 'The Final Hurt', even though, with the new single, I can still hear I'm still improving.

As far as what the album means to me... It's the end point of a nearly thirty year journey, in the sense that when I started in 1996 under the Crucifire banner, I set myself the goal of releasing four albums, as the album format was the yardstick of the day. Right or wrong, that is no longer the case, and I'll be releasing future music through singles and E.P.'s. Of course, never say never...

On a personal level, 'The Final Hurt' chronicles my struggles with the darkness in my life, both past and present. It's kind of a reckoning with all that. Some songs thematically go back to my teenage years, others are closer to the present, and still other songs go back a decade or more. It's not, as has been suggested, a concept album that tells one linear story. The overarching concept is 'hurt', that links all songs together, but that's as far as it goes. Like I said a few questions back : it's about coming to terms with darkness and leaving it behind rather than wallow in it.

You might remember from our previous conversation that I occasionally like to throw in a fun hypothetical question. So, imagine this: by fate, you find yourself holding the Lament Configuration. Turn it to the left, and a dimensional gateway opens, dropping you straight into the world of the Muppets, where you’re required to perform on their show — including a duet with Miss Piggy. Turn it to the right, and you suddenly find yourself sharing your home with an alien from the planet Melmac, with a very real chance of your entire house being turned upside down. Which way would you turn the cube?

That's a tough choice. I love me some bacon, musically inclined or otherwise, and to jam with Animal would be a dream come true. On the other hand, I would also love to travel to Melmac... To save all the cats there from becoming meals for ALF and his ilk, haha!

I also recall from our previous conversation that you mentioned not having found the right musicians yet, despite wanting to return to the live stage. I’ve heard there have been some positive developments since then — can you tell us more about that?

Well, it started with a drummer. I've known Tom for several years and in the past we already talked about doing something together, but then we lost track of each other; mainly because I've turned into something of a recluse and didn't go out very much anymore. We reconnected last Summer and when I mentioned to him that I wanted to take Ahráyeph on the road again, he was keen to be a part of that. It turned out that Tom is exactly the kind of musician I needed : he's very motivated and dedicated to the point where his enthusiasm and dedication to do the songs justice infects me and has brought back the fun for me in working with another musician which I had lost after too many years of working with people who I would only loosely describe as musicians. I no longer feel as if I'm pulling the cart along on my own. We respect each other and are open to each other's constructive criticism because we're working towards the same goal, which is to present the songs we intend to play in the best possible light and bring them to a wider audience, which is what I think my songs deserve.

At the same time, we're still in the process of auditioning bass players and second guitar players. There is some positive progress in that process too, but it's too early to tell and anyone interested in trying out can still do so. All it takes is a direct message through the Ahrayeph official Facebook page to let us know you're interested in trying out for the band.

So this is good news for fans who are hoping to see you live?

Yes.

Let me throw another hypothetical question your way. Imagine this: somewhere in the future, revolutionary machines once thought impossible now exist. At the very last moment, you’re invited to perform at an exclusive festival — but you need to get there fast. You can turn to a young scientist named Seth and use his experimental telepod. Or you can place your trust in an older scientist named Doc and step into his time-travel vehicle. Both inventions are still a bit unstable, so there are certain risks involved. Will you go for one of these options, or will you stick with the good old-fashioned, safe tour bus?

Since I've traveled in tour buses before and know how 'amazing' an experience that is, I'll take my chances with the DeLorean, Great Scott!

Time to turn our focus to your new double single, The Indian Summer / January Pale. As we’ve come to expect from you, there’s once again a strong sense of symbolic depth at play — almost like a fragile arc between holding on to fleeting warmth and facing the cold clarity that inevitably follows. How did the idea for this release come about?

Early last November, it was a Friday afternoon, we still enjoyed warm and sunny weather here, an autumnal weather phenomenon which is called 'Indian Summer'; a term stemming from the U.S. I was hanging out of my window, enjoying this weather, while listening to Few Bits's song 'Big Sparks', wich has this kind of 'melancholic summer' vibe, which actually fit the slightly hazy low sunlight and the autumnal colours of that November afternoon perfectly. This, in turn made me reflect on my personal situation and I made an analogy of the Indian Summer being better times and the coming Winter being the harsh and uncertain times which were the reality I was living at the time. I longed for that metaphorical Indian Summer to materialise and continue indefinitely. When I wrote the lyrics, I also made sure to name check the song that inspired mine.

'January Pale', on the other hand, came about a few weeks later as a spontaneous jam during my daily practice routine. It sounded very cold and dark, like Winter, and January in particular. It's a month I always associate with bleakness because the holiday season with all its festive lights and evergreen symbolism is gone and Spring is still very far away; almost like it will never happen. It very much feels like a bad hangover that feels like it'll never go away. That became another analogy for my wish to escape the also seemingly never ending desperate situation I found myself in. So now I had two songs, and since I made it some kind of tradition the last couple of years to release music in the first minute of the first day of the new year, these songs couldn't have come at a more appropriate time.

To close things off, Raf — one last question, but certainly not the least. This year marks thirty years of Ahráyeph. Let me first offer you my warm congratulations on reaching this milestone. Over all those years, I have no doubt your music has made itself heard through more than a few speakers. Looking back on these thirty years, are there particular moments that stand out to you as especially meaningful?

Thank you, Hayley. It's certainly a milestone I never had in mind when I set out to write my own music and start my own band. And as you know, it's been a rocky road, and not the chocolate chip kind, haha.

My most meaningful moments; let's see... Well, as you know, we're rehearsing for Ahráyeph's first live gig in fourteen years, and while playing through the set as I do twice every day, I realised that 'White Square II', which differs only with the first version in that it has different lyrics and no solo, is a song that was conceived at the very beginning, when we were still Crucifire, and it still holds up after all those years. That certainly means a lot.

Then there's the release of 'Marooned On Samsara', which managed to put Ahráyeph on the map. I know people who still love that album, so I probably did something right, haha! Tied to that: it also means a lot to me as a musician that I was - and am - never content just churning out the same kind of music with each release. My favourite artists and bands are those who always try to push the envelope a little further each time and although I believe I've created a sound of my own, I also feel it's not limited by adhering to the musical conventions of the genre Ahráyeph is categorised under. That 'progressive' part of the label isn't just a buzzword; it stands for something in this band.

Another thing is that we made it to the Wave Gotik Treffen back in 2012. It wasn't the best gig by any means; probably the worst, even. But I loved being part of the whole vibe; it felt like home. I hope we'll get another opportunity to play there and prove that with the right people in the band, we can do a lot better than we showed in 2012.

Lastly, it's not a moment as such, but it means a lot to me that my songs mean a lot to people. Although I look at music from a musician's perspective these days and because of that some of the magic has gone, I do remember what an emotional impact music can have. And to be in a position where my songs have that effect on other people is one of the biggest rewards you can have as a songwriter.

Alright Raf, here’s to at least thirty more years of Ahráyeph awesomeness! It’s been a real pleasure speaking with you again. On behalf of Peek-A-Boo, a heartfelt thank you for your time. Before we truly close the book on this conversation — is there anything you’d like to add or leave our readers with?

As always, it has been a real pleasure to talk with you, Hayley, for which I gladly make time.

I don't know if this interview will go out before our gig, but if it does, I hope your readers will join us at the Kinky Star club in Gent (small - but cozy - as it is) to celebrate Ahráyeph's return to the stage. It's only the beginning; I hope to make this thirtieth anniversary year a bla(a)st! And to those who stuck with me all of these years, a heartfelt thank you for your unwavering support!

• Ahráyeph - Bandcamp
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• Ahráyeph - YouTube

Hayley CLX
27/02/2026