Eternal Mourning’s “Drums Are Beating My Steps” grew out of a sleepless night, when Philippe Mourani recorded the first idea as a voice memo. A stripped-down folk song with a guitar that had lost its brightness follows a different mood, with bass, keys and additional layers giving the song a heavier character.
Insomnia sits behind the song, though Mourani leaves its meaning open. He describes the writing process as a way to use the quiet hours when the rest of the world has stopped. That late-night setting gives the song a personal starting point without closing off other interpretations.
Based in Montreal, Mourani has played bass in several bands and uses Eternal Mourning to explore his own songwriting across folk, rock and psychedelic sounds. Simon Petraki handled the drums and mixing for an alternate version, which Mourani plans to release on Bandcamp. The song itself preserves the changes that came between its first guitar demo and its final form.
You can find all the data here and on his Instagram.
For those who might not know you yet, how would you introduce yourself?
Eternal Mourning is a Montreal-based indie folk band built around storytelling, atmosphere and contrasts. Our music moves between delicate folk melodies and darker, more intense arrangements, drawing from indie rock, dark folk, spaghetti western and even grunge.
I’m Philippe Mourani, the songwriter, vocalist and guitarist behind the project. What started as a personal creative outlet gradually grew through collaborations with some friends, and has now evolved into a band. We’re four musicians bringing different influences and personalities into the same musical landscape. Mike, Moad and Olivier have brought new colors to the project, and somehow, we’re incredibly aligned. The chemistry is just crazy.
If you had to bottle up your sound into just three words, which ones would you choose?
Dark, atmospheric, evocative.
Which artists (not only music-related) or moments have left the biggest mark on your music?
Musically, Timber Timbre has had a strong influence on the moods and tension I like to create. I’m also drawn to the storytelling and lyrics of The National, especially Matt Berninger’s ability to make intimate emotions feel larger than life. Beck’s Sea Change is another record that has stayed with me, particularly for its vulnerability and restraint.
But influences don’t always come from music. I’m inspired by stories, books, images, powerful nostalgic memories, mental pictures of things I’ve been through, and feelings that are sometimes difficult to explain. They’re always very personal, yet abstract at the same time. I like duality and layers of different meanings in lyrics.
I tend to absorb things without necessarily knowing where they’ll end up in a song. I’m just a sponge, hoarding influences, with my own shapes and colors.
When you hit play on your songs, what kind of feeling takes over?
There’s usually a mixture of melancholy, tension and something strangely uncomfortable. I like music that can make you feel a little unsettled while still drawing you in. I also have recurring themes that keep coming back in different forms.
I don’t necessarily want to give listeners a precise emotion or tell them what they should feel. I’d rather leave some room for their own memories and interpretations. A song can mean something completely different to the person listening to it, and I think that’s part of the beauty of music.
If you could team up with anyone in the world, no limits, who would be that dream collaborator?
Oh, that’s a very good question! My bandmates would come first. Beyond that, I really enjoy collaborations, like the one we did on “Computer Silence”, where Saint Willow, another Montreal-based artist, joined me for the outro.
I’m actually open to all kinds of collaborations, whether it’s vocals, lyrics, studio work, bass playing, the marxophone, or anything else that brings something interesting to the table. I enjoy working in the studio, whether it’s at a place like Seratone Studio with Simon Petraki or remotely from my home studio.
I really like what Adam brings to the music as a drummer, especially through his work with Mike Dubue, who also mixed “Drums Are Beating My Steps”, and has worked with artists like Femi Luna, Via Mardot and Timber Timbre. I’d also would love to collaborate with a female alto singer or a coloratura soprano. I find those vocal ranges fascinating, and I think they could bring a beautiful contrast, both to our sound and to theirs, especially alongside my own low bass vocal register. Girl from Men I trust, is just inspiring. The message is out there… If you sing like a bird, or have a powerful, almost ceremonial voice, and have a new song that you think would benefit from the Eternal Mourning touch, we’re open!
What are you working on now, and what are your plans for the future? Anything exciting you can tell us about?
We’ve recently brought a new lineup together, and we’re spending a lot of time rehearsing, finding our groove, shaping the band’s live identity and adapting the songs from their recorded versions to a live setup.
We’re also working on new material. The next songs could be some of the heaviest we’ve written so far, with a stronger emphasis on drums and rhythm. We’re moving a little away from my usual bass-driven dream pop approach, inspired in part by Justin Meldal-Johnsen’s style, especially now that Mike M. is on board. But we’ll keep the dark folk and indie rock atmosphere that defines Eternal Mourning, particularly through the vocals, guitars and arrangements.
We’re excited about what this new chemistry can bring. We’re so blessed to be all four together and able to create. The immediate goal is to get on stage, share this music with people and see where it takes us.
Can you walk us through the story or emotion behind “Drums Are Beating My Steps”? Can you tell us about the storytelling and the visual approach to the video?
“Drums Are Beating My Steps” started as a late-night voice memo during one of my sleepless nights. I’ve always had insomnia, but in a good way. I like using those quiet hours to create, when the rest of the world seems to have stopped and there’s room to build on whatever is going through my mind.
The song originally had a much cleaner folk approach, built around just a classic guitar with dead strings. As it evolved, it took a darker and more twisted direction. The original demo had a very specific mood and feeling, but the final version gradually became something quite different. I wanted to keep that evolution alive rather than simply reproduce the initial idea.
The final demo, with vocals, bass, keys and the other elements, came together very quickly. The drums and the mixing of the alternate version were then entrusted to Simon Petraki. Here’s a little secret: we’ll be releasing that version on Bandcamp soon.
I also like leaving the lyrics open to interpretation. There are images and emotions in the song that don’t necessarily need to be explained. I’d rather let listeners find their own meaning in them.
We haven’t planned an official music video for the song yet. So far, we’ve only released a short YouTube video.
