Born from a Hungarian–Icelandic collaboration, zythaex channel impermanence, silence, and existential dread into black metal. In this interview, they discuss creation, philosophy, and the haunting depths of The Devouring Principle.
1.
Zythaex was born out of a Hungarian/Icelandic long-distance collaboration. Can
you tell us how the two of you first connected online and what inspired you to
create music together despite the geographical distance?
We first
met through Facebook, in one of the many underground black metal groups. I
can’t remember exactly which one, but early on I featured BÁL’s album Bú as
part of a short-lived weekly series I was running. That album struck me deeply
and it remains one of my favorite black metal records today. From there,
conversation and mutual respect grew, and although it took many years before it
finally happened, it eventually turned into collaboration. To be honest, I
don't know exactly what took us so long. We started thinking about working
together years ago.
BÁL's
answer: JTS and me met online a couple of years ago, probably in 2021 or 2022
I'm not 100% sure but the reason we connected was music. I'm also unsure if he
found me or I found him, or what the conversation starter was. All I know is
that his understanding of funeral doom amazed me, the chaos he's able to create
and the dimensions of his atmospheres are truly one of a kind and breathtaking,
in my opinion. We had been planning to create a musical project together for a
while, but because both of us had very busy months, we couldn't dedicate the
time to the collaboration. A few weeks ago, we started talking again more
regularly, and he came up with his instrumental and lyrical ideas, which I
found pretty exciting. Within a few days, I recorded the vocals and sent the
tracks to him. Not long after, he mixed and mastered the whole thing, and our
release was ready. We're like-minded people, and our cooperation was really
fast, smooth, and effective, supported by transparent communication. The main
inspiration, I believe, is our long-standing wish to create something together,
plus our similar way of seeing things.
2. Black
metal often draws deeply from landscape and atmosphere. How do the fiery
presence of Hekla in Iceland and the shadowed Carpathians of Hungary shape the
sound and concept of The Devouring Principle?
It’s hard
to say exactly how. Growing up in Iceland, I’ve always been influenced by the
landscape and nature, and I feel that connection carries over into the music.
But it’s more of a feeling than something I can explain clearly. The stark,
shifting environment almost feels alive, ancient, restless, and slightly
terrifying. That sense of being shaped by something vast and beyond control is
what finds its way into the sound. At least I think so.
BÁL's
answer: I can only list clichés here so it's better if I keep it short this
time. My homeland is located in the Pannonian Basin and we're surrounded with
mountains, however there are no heights in Hungary in 2025 (compared to other
European countries) so if I wanna keep it trve and cold, I'd say "I am
vnder the shadows of the Carpathians, eternally" haha.
3. Your
debut carries a strong philosophical weight, described as “a meditation on
existence as a process of erasure.” Where did these ideas originate, and how do
you translate such vast, abstract concepts into music?
Much of it
comes from the Buddhist idea of impermanence. The recognition that all things,
even our sense of self, are constantly dissolving. It’s always fascinated me,
but it also frightens me, and that darker side is what makes its way into the
music. It’s as though something ancient and unseen is always pressing in,
reminding us that everything is temporary. Translating it sonically means
creating forms that collapse, textures that fade, and more silent parts that we
try to make as heavy and emotionally charged as the loud parts.
BÁL's
answer: We need to make things clear here first. JTS wrote the lyrics and I was
exposed to them. From my side, the lyrics were inhaled and exhaled until I
united them. I like to think about them as they're a pretty long mantra. When
the balance between me, the meaning, and every single vowel and consonant found
the golden spot, I translated my understanding in the form of sound waves. The
time it resonated with me the most, I grabbed my mic and pressed the red
button.
4. The
imagery of collapsing stars, fading memories, and dissolving identity permeates
the record. Would you say your music leans more toward cosmic horror,
existential philosophy, or both?
For me it’s
definitely more personal than cosmic. The collapsing stars are metaphors for
the inner world—memory fading, identity breaking down, meaning slipping away,
stuff like that. At the same time, it’s impossible not to see the parallel.
Even stars and galaxies are subject to impermanence. Whatever forces drive that
collapse, they feel ancient and terrifying. Not necessarily literal eldritch
beings, but something vast and incomprehensible that leans into the cosmic, at
least metaphorically. So while the core of it is existential and psychological,
there’s a shadow of something larger that gives it that sense of dread.
BÁL's answer: I'd say none of them really. The record definitely leans the most, towards silence. The rest is up to you and your interpretation.
5. How
did you approach the songwriting process when working remotely? Was it a strict
exchange of ideas and files, or did the songs evolve more organically through
experimentation?
It began
with something simple. I (JTS) had an instrumental track that I felt needed
vocals, and BÁL took care of that. What he delivered gave the piece a depth
that I never in a million years could have imagined on my own. At first I
didn’t even think of it as the beginning of an ongoing collaboration. But when
it was finished, we both agreed 100% that from this day forward zythaex would
be our joint project. For The Devouring Principle, the foundation came from
that full instrumental track I already had, but in future albums there will
probably be a lot more back-and-forth, letting the songs take shape in
dialogue.
BÁL's
answer: The instrumental definitely had multiple versions, and I think JTS
would still be working on it if we hadn't agreed that one of them was the final
one. In any case, I downloaded the final version and recorded the vocals as I
described before. I sent all the tracks to him, and then he came up with
several mixes. When we were satisfied with the results, we used the good ol'
"that's the final one" method, and Devouring Principles was born.
6. Many
black metal projects embrace myth, folklore, or personal narrative. For
zythaex, do you see your work as rooted in storytelling, or is it more about
channeling atmosphere and emotion beyond words?
It’s not
really rooted in folklore or myth. For us, it’s more grounded in philosophy,
especially existential dread and the idea of impermanence. When existential
despair, fear of change, and fear of decay is carried to its extreme, it has to
shift toward acceptance if there’s to be any reconciliation. That’s where the
Buddhist thought comes into play, because it’s all about the acceptance part.
There are echoes of Buddhism and existential thinkers like Heidegger and
Sartre, but it’s less about citing influences and more about giving those ideas
a sonic form. Still, I respect and admire artists who use mythology or
narrative. It’s just not what we were reaching for here. Our focus is on
atmosphere, on conjuring that unsettling sense that something ancient, nameless,
and inevitable is always there, just beyond words.
BÁL's answer: Devouring Principles is channeling silence as the final answer.
7. The
title The Devouring Principle suggests something all-consuming. How would you
describe this principle, and why did you choose it as the essence of your
debut?
At its
core, the devouring principle is time—a relentless force that drives all
change, all transformation, and ultimately death and destruction. But I also
thought of it in terms of eldritch forces, something vast and incomprehensible,
governing or even embodying time itself. I didn’t have a clear picture of what
those forces were, only that to me they feel frightening and utterly beyond
human understanding. I decided to use the word “principle” to frame it in two
ways: as something like a natural law that simply exists, but also as a matter
of personal principle, to accept that you will be devoured. And at the same
time, although I thought about it long after, it can also be understood as
something that devours all principles, erasing meaning and certainty along with
everything else. The idea was to convey the universe not just as old, but as
terrifying in its scale and indifference, with time as the silent mechanism of
that horror. Giving the album this title was a way of naming the force that
erases all things.
BÁL's
answer: In my opinion, we answered unanswered questions, which is a worthy goal
if you consider yourself a thinking mortal. Perhaps these questions were only
ours, or maybe they were just mine, but we certainly demonstrated a process
that results in something. That process is the all-consuming undoing that
ultimately leads to silence. This is simply my interpretation, though. You are
free to take it or leave it.
8. What
role does silence play in your music, especially since you describe it as “the
only remaining truth” at the end of existence?
On the
album we move back and forth between quieter, more ambient passages and the
louder black metal sections as a way to convey change. Decay is not a straight
line, it comes in waves. The soul can seem to mend, only to break down again,
but when viewed across a longer span, the direction is always toward
dissolution. Silence is part of that. It represents those moments when
everything falls away, when the current slows before surging again. It is not
absence but a presence of its own, carrying the weight of something completely
inevitable. In that way, silence becomes as essential as sound in expressing
the slow unraveling we wanted to capture.
9.
Thematically, your work engages with ideas of time, dissolution, and the
inevitability of death. Do you find this perspective more destructive or
liberating?
I think it
can be both. I don’t know if I would call it purely destructive, it certainly
can feel that way. But destructive or not, it’s something that needs to be
addressed and recognized. It has to be accepted. If the inevitability of
dissolution isn’t faced fully, it can become very destructive, eating away at
you in the background. But once it’s realized as an inevitable truth, it turns
into something else. It can even feel liberating. That said, I can’t speak for
everyone. For me it’s a path toward acceptance, but for others it might feel
like something darker entirely.
BÁL's
answer: This is a spiral of different episodes, yet the happenings are always
the same. At the inconceivable end of the spiral (if one exists), the only
thing that remains is silence.
10. From
a sonic perspective, what tools and techniques did you rely on to bridge the
distance between Hungary and Iceland while maintaining cohesion in your sound?
BÁL's
answer: Our machines, internet connection and communication. Patience,
listening and messaging.
11. This
is your debut, but it already feels like a fully formed artistic vision. Do you
imagine zythaex as a continuing project with more releases, or was The
Devouring Principle meant as a singular statement?
Thank you,
I’m very glad that we managed to shape it into a cohesive and coherent
experience. We definitely see this as a continuing project rather than a
one-off. In fact, we’ve already begun working on our second album, so there’s
no question that zythaex will move forward from here
BÁL's
answer: This is definitely a continuing project. Moreover, we're already
working on something even as I'm answering these questions.
12.
Finally, what do you hope listeners take away from this record when they step
into your universe—do you want them to confront the void, embrace dissolution,
or simply lose themselves in the sound?
I’ve never
been a fan of spoon-feeding listeners or telling them exactly what they should
experience. Honestly, all of the things you mentioned are completely valid. For
some, confronting the void might be the path. For others, it might be embracing
dissolution. And for many, simply letting the music wash over them without
thinking too much about concepts is just as legitimate. I don’t make the rules
here. Personally, I’ve gone through phases where I listen to music purely as a
sonic journey. At other times I dig deeply into themes and lyrics. Both
approaches are real and both can be transformative. So whether someone dives
into the concepts or just immerses themselves in the sound, I think they’re
taking away exactly what they need. Or at least I hope so.
BÁL's
answer: Personally, I don't want anything from our listeners. I only hope that
this record will reach each person at the right time, when they need to hear
our message.
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