Edgar Allan Poets – Noir Rock Band | E.A.Poets Approved/Bands We Like - Odonian Drifts
E.A.Poets Approved/Bands We Like – Odonian Drifts

Good Day Noir Family,

Odonian Drifts is our “E.A.Poets Approved/Bands We Like” feature today. I discovered this Artist while shuffling songs on Spotify and I liked the originality of his compositional style.

The atmosphere created by the music of this talented artist has already bewitched me from the first seconds.

A unique compositional style, a futurist version of Nick Cave in my opinion. His lyrics are poems and the voice of Odonian Drifts manages to speak directly to the heart and soul of the listener.

It is as if his music hides an ancestral secret capable of opening your third eye. While listening to the new single Xsufflation I closed my eyes and finally began to see.

I found myself floating around the universe like the “Star Child” in 2001: A Space Odyssey and maybe for a moment I thought I understood the vital energy that surrounds us.

This music is an introspective journey, a unique experience that has the ability to awaken your sleeping unconscious.

I recommend this eclectic artist’s music to everyone, I became his fan instantly because he produces high-quality songs.

Xsufflation is Odonian Drifts’ Single Out Now!

Deep and Hypnotic!


Odonian Drifts was formed in 2021 as the solo project of I.S. Rowley – poet, para-academic and one-fifth of post-punki(ish) outfit Spirits in the Pillar, signed to AnalogueTrash. It also follows the publication of Rowley’s poetry collection by Bristol indie press Hesterglock: an(other) effort to orchestrate a withdrawal from futurelessness without recourse to faticidic guruism or modish agitprop.

Their musical thinking is deep-cooked in England’s esoteric underground; listeners can find outputs ranging from darkwave melded with a febrile Sprechgesang to acid-folk meets baroque pop. Through a negotiation of – or, more accurately, a stumbling through and floundering in – theurgic processes, where the imperative is always to construct a ritual body fit for hosting the primal-ineffable rather than the hyper-real, dismantling what Jack Spicer called ‘the big lie of the personal’, Odonian Drifts wrestles with the question of how to transfigure a way of merely, barely coping into a form of redemption shorn of escapist palliatives.

A loft flat in the English Midlands is a long way from the early basilica crypts below Rome, but during lockdown 1.0, Odonian Drifts was impelled to fashion an altar for their remote devotional practices: Leonora Carrington’s lactating hyena and white rocking horse, A.O. Spare’s ‘satyrised’ Cockney workmen, Rosaleen Norton’s Lilith and Hecate – these are some of the imaginal figures illegitimately present to aid a minor occultation amplifying muted howls of resistance against an ontological mutation the human is expected to undergo to become a mere activator of serial positions – operative, though not alive. On some level, each Odonian Drifts piece is an incantatory gesture cracking and straining to engage the solemn resolve for rigorous artistic play; to encounter a love that’s denarcissifying, not debased by nihil-hedonistic calculation; to locate forces of re-enchantment in the hinterlands of grief.

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