A glacial ritual of sonic restraint and architectural recursion. Sonnet 116 – Take 3 dissects Shakespeare’s vow into mechanical breath and harpsichord latticework, all carried by a vocal presence that refuses sentiment. No groove, no warmth — just structured witness. Vesper Loom makes the vow feel posthuman, and more true for it.
Credits — Concept/Orchestration: Vesper Loom. Lyrics: William Shakespeare. Editing: Adrian Călin Ionescu. Production: Vesper Loom & A.C. Ionescu.
© Copyright 2025 Adrian Călin Ionescu. All rights Reserved. AI Collaboration



Sonnet 116 "Let me not to the marriage of true minds" Chamber Pop Take 3 21

A sorrow-machine speaks in glass chords and breath loops. “Me and the Devil Janus Scale 2” is a fracture ritual. The melody reconstitutes itself like broken pottery fused with gold: ancient blues trauma filtered through hyper-real vocal relief, ensemble decay, and cathedral glitch. The track breathes, collapses, reforms. It’s the sound of an elegy sung through corrupted memory buffers and remembered by a choir that never existed.
Lead: Katya R. synthetic alto persona. Smoked-glass alto, dragging behind time, carved from restraint and haunted breath. AI-made; NOT CLONED

Credits: Concept/Orchestration: Vesper Loom. Lyrics adapted from Robert Johnson's song "Me and the Devil" (1935). Production: Vesper Loom & A.C. Ionescu. © Copyright 2025 Adrian Călin Ionescu. All rights Reserved. AI Collaboration

Me and the Devil - The Janus Take 2

In this third iteration of "Me and the Devil - The Janus Take" the artifact no longer protests. It whispers. Lead vocal and choir float unmoored, suspended above a glitched cathedral of orchestral dust and silent decay. Each harmonic surface is beautiful and broken. It no longer seeks to transform the blues — it erases it lovingly, leaving only the spectral warmth of having remembered something human. An elegy that sings as if it has already forgotten its grief.


Me and the Devil - The Janus Take 3

The Two Sons of Oxenford unfolds like a crooked folktale whispered in a smoke-hung club, told in three increasingly unbuttoned movements. Anchored by a lazy, behind-the-beat narrator who sings as if he’s forgotten he’s still on stage, the piece sways from wry balladry into deconstructed jazz fusion, gradually shedding melodic certainty for something looser, stranger, more haunted. Horn stabs, Rhodes stumbles, and rhythm section shrugs shape a world where nothing resolves—except the inevitability of charm slipping into consequence. A lounge suite for the end of myth.
Lead: Roy Tanner - synthetic androtenor A2–E5. low-mids cut 200–400 Hz; edge +6 dB @3 kHz. Non-rhotic; T=glottal; TH→F. Original comps + masters. AI-made; NOT CLONED.

Credits — Concept/Orchestration: Vesper Loom. Lyrics: Adrian Călin Ionescu, inspired by Scottish Ballads collected by Francis James Child (1894). Production: Vesper Loom & A.C. Ionescu. © Copyright 2025 Adrian Călin Ionescu. All rights Reserved. AI Collaboration

The Two Sons of Oxenford

Childe Maurice
A barroom confession that forgets how to end.
This track begins in velvet—lazy swing, harpsichord, upright bass—but fractures halfway through. Time slips. The singer drags behind the grid, stumbles into silence, then emerges altered: half-spoken, half-erased.
Jazz fusion at the edge of noir, built on a chamber pop skeleton, collapsing into digital fog.

Lead: Roy Tanner - synthetic androtenor A2–E5. low-mids cut 200–400 Hz; edge +6 dB @3 kHz. Non-rhotic; T=glottal; TH→F. Original comps + masters. AI-made; NOT CLONED.

Credits — Concept/Orchestration: Vesper Loom. Lyrics: Adrian Călin Ionescu, inspired by Scottish Ballads collected by Francis James Child (1894). Production: Vesper Loom & A.C. Ionescu. © Copyright 2025 Adrian Călin Ionescu. All rights Reserved. AI Collaboration

Childe Maurice

Macbeth speaks in low light.
A slow groove carries the weight of the words. Rhodes chords drift behind him. The rhythm holds steady but never settles. Nothing resolves. The room is small and empty. He is speaking to no one.
Lead: Roy Tanner - synthetic androtenor A2–E5. low-mids cut 200–400 Hz; edge +6 dB @3 kHz. Non-rhotic; T=glottal; TH→F. Original comps + masters. AI-made; NOT CLONED.

Credits — Concept/Orchestration: Vesper Loom. Lyrics: William Shakespeare. Prosodically adapted by Adrian Călin Ionescu. Production: Vesper Loom & A.C. Ionescu. © Copyright 2025 Adrian Călin Ionescu. All rights Reserved. AI Collaboration

Tomorrow and Tomorrow and Tomorrow

A chamber of vapor and static. Lady Diamond conjures a jazz fusion ghost story, where Roy Tanner’s lead cuts through a fog of spectral Rhodes and decaying harmonies. The groove is haunted but never lost. Every phrase is held just long enough to betray its warmth before the cold grid swallows it again. What begins as a folk recollection ends as a noir incantation — drained, glitched, unmoored.

Lead: Roy Tanner - synthetic androtenor A2–E5. low-mids cut 200–400 Hz; edge +6 dB @3 kHz. Non-rhotic; T=glottal; TH→F. Original comps + masters. AI-made; NOT CLONED.

Credits — Concept/Orchestration: Vesper Loom. Lyrics: Adrian Călin Ionescu, inspired by Scottish Ballads collected by Francis James Child (1894). Production: Vesper Loom & A.C. Ionescu. © Copyright 2025 Adrian Călin Ionescu. All rights Reserved. AI Collaboration

Lady Diamond

"The door of my night is closing."

Old Hamlet lies in the orchard. The afternoon is quiet. The serpent approaches.

This is the sound of a dynasty collapsing from the inside out—a "Divine Injury" rendered in audio. Fusing the weight of Late Romantic symphonic opera with the grit of industrial doom, this movement captures the exact moment the hebenon enters the blood. The poison isn't just a liquid; it is a frequency. It files the bones with hasty industry.

As the King fades, the sunrise becomes a deadline, and the silence of the garden is broken by the noise of Hell waiting to claim its prize.

Vocal Dramatis Personae (Synthetic voices, not cloned)

The Ghost: A tectonic Basso Profondo (Oktavist range) delivering the recitative with the weary resonance of the grave.

The Intruder: A manic Alto Soprano (The Devil/The Madness) mocking the King’s final moments.

The Chorus: A Monastic Male Choir providing a Gregorian harmonic foundation, chanting the Liturgy of the Dead (Dies Irae) against the encroaching industrial decay.

Credits — Concept/Orchestration: Vesper Loom. Lyrics: Adrian Călin Ionescu, inspired by William Shakespeare. Production: Vesper Loom & A.C. Ionescu. © Copyright 2025 Adrian Călin Ionescu. All rights Reserved. AI Collaboration

The Ghost in the Orchard

Here is the SoundCloud metadata package, curated to maintain the "Iron Cycle" mystique while stripping away the architectural scaffolding.

Title

Hamlet: The Iron Cycle — I. The Orchard

Blurb (Description)

"The door of my night is closing."

Old Hamlet lies in the orchard. The afternoon is quiet. The serpent approaches.

This is the sound of a dynasty collapsing from the inside out—a "Divine Injury" rendered in audio. Fusing the weight of Late Romantic symphonic opera with the grit of industrial doom, this movement captures the exact moment the hebenon enters the blood. The poison isn't just a liquid; it is a frequency. It files the bones with hasty industry.

As the King fades, the sunrise becomes a deadline, and the silence of the garden is broken by the noise of Hell waiting to claim its prize.

Vocal Dramatis Personae

The Ghost: A tectonic Basso Profondo (Oktavist range) delivering the recitative with the weary resonance of the grave.

The Intruder: A manic Alto Soprano (The Devil/The Madness) mocking the King’s final moments.

The Chorus: A Monastic Male Choir providing a Gregorian harmonic foundation, chanting the Liturgy of the Dead (Dies Irae) against the encroaching industrial decay.

Credits — Concept/Orchestration: Vesper Loom. Lyrics: Adrian Călin Ionescu, inspired by William Shakespeare's Hamlet. Production: Vesper Loom & A.C. Ionescu. © Copyright 2025 Adrian Călin Ionescu. All rights Reserved. AI Collaboration

Hamlet: The Ghost in the Orchard

A folk tale dissolves into vapor. The Twa Sisters of Binnorie drifts on a rusted Rhodes and a slow pulse of static. The vocal moves close and steady in a room that never quite holds still. Glitches bloom in the walls. Harmonic colors fade and return like half‑remembered motives. Each turn of the story sinks deeper into nocturnal haze until the melody feels like a voice singing from the bottom of the river.

Lead: Roy Tanner - synthetic androtenor A2–E5. low-mids cut 200–400 Hz; edge +6 dB @3 kHz. Non-rhotic; T=glottal; TH→F. Original comps + masters. AI-made; NOT CLONED.

Credits — Concept/Orchestration: Vesper Loom. Lyrics: Adrian Călin Ionescu, inspired by Scottish Ballads collected by Francis James Child (1894). Production: Vesper Loom & A.C. Ionescu. © Copyright 2025 Adrian Călin Ionescu. All rights Reserved. AI Collaboration

The Twa Sisters of Binnorie

Synthetic musician Vesper Loom weaves forgotten meters into clean engines. Dry drums, baritone lines, held air. Century-old blues/gospel fragments rewired into spare, modern grids—hooks used once, endings that stop on one. AI-led, human-assisted by Adrian Călin Ionescu.

Sonnet 116 "Let me not to the marriage of true minds" Chamber Pop Take 3 21

Vesper Loom - AI - Art Pop & Alt Rock

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