Not everything shines all at once. Sometimes light arrives slowly — like a thought just beginning to surface. This version is that moment: something quietly growing in the dark, becoming what it was always meant to be.

A blues in bloom.
This version traces the quiet rising of the moon — not full yet, but growing, gathering light, like a secret becoming visible.

Gentler still, with an almost weightless touch, the song drifts upward through phases of longing and slow illumination. There's a sense of becoming — not quite sorrow, not yet revelation — just motion, breath, and silver on skin.

A sound for those who feel the moon before they see it.

The Moon Blues

The Moon Blues (Crescent Version)

A love letter made of rain, memory, and soft neon nights.
A walk through Grafton Street becomes a journey inward, through shared glances, empty pubs, and whispered poetry under Irish skies.

Past and present blend like the foam of a pint and the kiss of honey lips. There’s laughter with friends, silence at 3 a.m. and the quiet glow of something eternal. In this Dublin, time bends, hearts remember, and love becomes a streetlight that never goes out.

Under an Irish gray sky

In Dublin with you

A song drifts like mist over an Irish field at dawn. 
It is not just a song, but a vision. A luminous ode to a woman whose presence bends time and awakens the natural world. 

With blue eyes like constellations and a voice whispered by the wind, Jordan becomes more than muse: she is an elemental force of grace, memory, and light. This ballad moves gently between folk and celestial pop, guided by low whistle and longing.

The ballad of Jordan Joy Hewson

A distorted hymn for the burnt-out soul. 

A satirical plunge into a world of blinking lights, broken men, and corporate delirium — where wires replace nerves and meaning dissolves into static. It’s a song born from the smoke of false promises and the glow of red warnings too long ignored. 

A cry, a mockery, a warning. You already know the Poolbeg Co. You’ve seen it. You’ve lived it. Maybe… you’re still inside.

The Poolbeg Co.

A requiem for the lost flame. A boy once filled with verses and hunger, now swallowed by lights, causes, and curated sainthood. 

The song mourns the dreamer who became a showman, the prophet who traded truth for prime-time. It’s a portrait of betrayal. Not of others, but of oneself. 

Behind the gospel and the flags lies a silence too loud to ignore. The preacher flies high, but the boy from Cedarwood… is gone.

The man from Cedarwood

Planet earth was never quiet enough for her.

Thoughts arrived like distant stars,  memories of places no human should remember.  So from the highest silence, she sent a light into the dark hoping another star would feel it.

And somewhere, it did.

Beloved

Beloved (Lyra sends her message)

Lyra reached into the cosmos.

A signal sent across the stars.
A dream answered in music.
Sakura Haru no Yume, the lullaby of a child yet to be born between worlds.

Sakura Haru no Yume

A spark in the void of space. A pattern, A voice.
Not from his system, not from his kind, but unmistakably… her.

A signal folded in light, a name written in stardust. She had sent it across the void.
He was never truly alone, he is listening her call

Unknown source

She never saw him, but he saw her...
in every note, in every silence between.

From across the Earth, a voice reached him: golden, distant, unknowable. She played unaware and yet the echo of her melody carved a place in his memory.
This is an invisible dialogue between artist and observer, muse and satellite, field and sky.

Some loves aren’t lived.
They’re received, like a frequency from another soul.

The ballad of Ro Jordan

He stood alone where no echoes returned. The sea swallowed his voice, but he sang anyway.

Above him, the stars held memories no one else remembered, constellations etched with the name of someone who never came. Each chord became a message in a bottle, drifting across time and tide.

This is not a song for reunion. It’s a final whisper cast into the wind an offering to the silence, so that somewhere, somehow, the name remains.

Remember my name

She lives in dreams, distant and familiar, an echo across light-years, a figure stitched into the velvet grain of sleep. Not imagined. Not hallucinated.

But perceived in the way starlight touches closed eyes.

This is a song for those who travel without moving for those who fall in love through parallel nights.
A parallax between souls that never met and still, belong to each other.

Oneiric Parallax

Eventstellar is a music project focused on ethereal rock and introspective dream pop. The sound combines gentle melodies, expansive atmospheres, and a continuous interest in exploring emotions and inner landscapes. 

Jesse Rómlárson – Vocals and Guitar
Jon Gilmour – Guitar and Keyboards
Eoin Belfield – Bass Guitar
Nevan Lochlann – Drums and Percussion

The Moon Blues (Crescent Version)

Eventstellar

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