With symbolic inspiration from English poet William Blake’s late 18th century works — including The Four Zoas — “Night Moon” is Paul’s self-professed sonic probe into the seemingly opposing yet harmonious forces that encompass all things ‘human nature.’
“Night Moon is about the nature of every being,” he reflects, “and the complex interplay of elements that fuse together to form the whole of all that is within and without us.
“It is the contrast of dark and light… Of life and death… Of every opposing force that must exist in twisted harmony as all things seek homeostasis and balance at all times.”
So far, “Night Moon” has proven ultimate evolution in Jordan Paul’s distinctive style. His music boasts notes of delicate, spacious, exploratory alt. folk/rock — all with a shadowy edge — and he has been dubbed “Canada’s Jeff Buckley” by three-time GRAMMY Award-winning producer Chris Birkett (Led Zeppelin, Talking Heads). Sleeping Bag Studios’ Jer has mused he’d be the result “if Queen, Mimicking Birds, Radiohead and Led Zeppelin had a beautiful love child.”
@jordanpaulmusic
I’ve brought the thief to the house of the just I’ve taught the morning to a pale artifice My son’s a pestilence that’s burning at noon Vapour in the death of the night moon The night moon The night moon The night moon The night moon To speak the laws of prudence To keep the wolves at bay To hear the dog howl at the wintry door Oh take me back to days of holy vellichor I’ve brought the thief to the house of the just I’ve taught the morning to a pale artifice My son’s a pestilence that’s burning at noon Vapour in the death of the night moon The night moon The night moon The night moon The night moon Oh mental flames redeemed Valla’s in the shadows of the leaves upon the tree Oh mental flames redeemed Valla’s in the shadows of the leaves upon the tree I’ve brought the thief to the house of the just I’ve taught the morning to a pale artifice My son’s a pestilence that’s burning at noon Vapour in the death of the night moon I’ve brought the thief to the house of the just I’ve taught the morning to a pale artifice My son’s a pestilence that’s burning at noon Vapour in the death of the night moon