I have listened to albums, but I have fallen into “Somnorine,” the 19 December 2025 release from Skylarka. And oh, I know you might be wondering who she is. Well, Skylarka is a longtime musician and producer formed in the raw, DIY worlds of punk, metal, and jazz scenes where experimentation isn’t optional; it’s survival. After long COVID cut her off from touring and live performance, she didn’t disappear. She mutated. Redirecting her creative force into streaming, electronic production, and Vtubing, she has re-emerged with an unmistakable 80s synthwave aesthetic and a mischievous, gremlin-core online presence that masks serious artistic intent.
The nine-track album, “Somnorine,” is a concept built entirely from real dreams Skylarka experienced, with every compositional and production decision aimed at evoking how those dreams felt, not just what happened in them. The result is an album that explores dreams, identity, nihilism, and the quiet terror of existing without ever losing its sense of play. Let’s get into each of the tracks.
The album opens in limbo. “Half-Remembered” captures that fragile moment just before lucidity. The synths drift and blur, never fully resolving, like thoughts dissolving as you try to hold them. The melodies hover on the edge of coherence, then slip away. It’s weightless, disorienting, and sets the album’s central tension: meaning exists, but you may never be able to articulate it.
“Cybernetic Fist (Maru Malandra Theme)” snaps you into neon-lit action. This track draws from a dream of a cyborg hero in a post-apocalyptic cyberpunk world. Cybernetic Fist blends dark synthwave aggression with heroic momentum. This track radiates confidence and kinetic energy, which, to me, is one of the album’s most overtly “fun” moments, without sacrificing its dreamlike roots.
The album leans into existential horror as “A Man Beyond Death” unfolds slowly and deliberately, mirroring the dream’s unsettling calm: mad science, resurrection, and the quiet terror of something that shouldn’t be alive—but is. The instrumentation is clinical and restrained, with mechanical pulses and ominous harmonies that suggest curiosity and dread.
In “Pallid Moonscape,” Skylarka paints a cold, silent, and impossibly luminous lunar dreamscape. The production is spacious and airy, allowing melodies to echo like footsteps on moon dust that never stirs. This track radiates wonder. It feels reverent, as if touching something ancient and meaningful, completing a strange emotional circle back to Sinatra’s cosmic romanticism.
“Amid The Burning Blossoms” is the album at its most detailed. The contrast between beauty and destruction defines the track as lush, melodic synths bloom while crackling textures and distorted layers suggest fire and smoke. The production balances clarity and chaos perfectly, allowing you to “see” the flowers and the flames at the same time.
A tonal shift into nostalgic fantasy, “Hero’s Homecoming” channels classic video game adventure energy. It’s playful and earnest, capturing the joy of being a hero before the weight of consequence fully settles in. Within the album’s broader nihilistic themes, this track feels like a reminder of why we seek meaning in the first place.
The first vocal track, “The Witch House,” hits like a rupture in reality. Drawing heavily from Lovecraftian mythos, this track uses lyrics as an incantation rather than a narrative. The vocal delivery is intense and unflinching, layered into the mix as another destabilizing force rather than a comforting guide. The production grows denser and more oppressive, mirroring the lyrical descent into forbidden knowledge and cosmic terror. It’s raw, unsettling, and completely committed to its madness.
“Unearthly Vagabond” embodies endless wandering. Bright, alien synth tones and looping motifs reflect a dream of exploration without destination. Skylarka captures the existential ache of immortality through sound alone, making time feel elastic and inescapable.
The album closes with its most emotionally explicit statement. With lyrics confronting death, continuity, and insignificance, “Mo(u)rning Lazarus” feels like the philosophical thesis of Somnorine. The vocals are weary but resolute, delivering lines that wrestle with ego death, rebirth, and the inevitability of cosmic indifference. The instrumentation is restrained, giving space for reflection rather than catharsis. It doesn’t offer answers, only acceptance.
Musically, Somnorine’s production is careful without feeling sterile. Her background shows in her willingness to break structure, embrace dissonance, and let texture drive emotion. Analog-style synths, chiptune influences, and dark synthwave foundations are layered with care, creating immersive environments rather than conventional songs.
“Somnorine” is an album about dreaming, but it’s really about being human and learning to live without guarantees. Skylarka doesn’t guide us (listeners) toward comfort or clarity. Instead, she invites us to wander her subconscious, to sit with uncertainty, and to find beauty in the void.
Listen to the “Somnorine” album on Spotify.
Follow Skylarka here for more information.
