A FINAL EMBRACE DEBUTS INSIDE OF A BURNED DREAM WITH BLEEDING EMOTION AND SONIC BRUTALITY
A Final Embrace, the side project of noah thomas, has released their debut three-track EP titled Inside of a Burned Dream. From the title alone–Inside of a Burned Dream–one would anticipate an atmosphere of smoldering melancholy, introspection, and raw emotional intensity. The EP delivers precisely that. Across the EP, the lyrics explore fragmentation, loss, grief, and emotional residue. The music unfolds like faded memories: smoldering, fragmented, and haunted by loss. The vocals hover between whisper-soft vulnerability, anguished cries, and guttural eruptions, while the instrumentation balances sullen tones, brooding distortion, and dramatic crescendos.
“A Burned Dream” launches the EP with immediate, feral intensity. From the first seconds, you’re hit with guttural screams and vocal additives that are more than just stylistic flourishes. It’s full of expressive vocals that reflect the emotional intensity and musical aggression conveyed by the track. The instrumentation in “A Burned Dream” serves as a narrative–a mirror to enhance and lead the story being told through the lyrics. The synergy between the music and the message adds an emotional depth and gives the listener a visceral connection to the material. In emotionally charged moments embedded into the lyrics, the instrumental intensity builds underneath the vocal delivery, amplifying the weight of each word.
“My Brother’s Keeper” is the emotional centerpiece of Inside of a Burned Dream–a raw, elegiac tribute. The inclusion of hospital beeps at the beginning of the track isn’t just an aesthetic choice; instead, it’s a sonic timestamp. It’s a profoundly personal echo of time spent at the bedside, waiting, hoping, and eventually grieving. From the first second, the listener is drawn into a place of sterile fluorescent light, machines humming and the emotional weight of watching a loved one slip away. “My Brother’s Keeper” is not just a song–it's a memorial. It takes personal grief and turns it into communal catharsis. There is a profound weight to every line, every pause, every second. It’s unflinching in its honesty and subtle in its devastation. It's the type of track that lingers long after it’s finished. Out of the three, this track edges ahead as a personal favorite, driven by its emotional weight and sheer sonic ferocity.
In “She Said That To Me Once…About Being a Machine,” A Final Embrace pulls off an epic intro–almost like the moments before a storm hits–luring the listener in before it plunges headfirst into a world of pain, grief, and unfiltered rage. There’s a physicality to the instrumentation that drives the song forward like a machine with teeth. It doesn't just go hard; it crushes, laying the perfect foundation for what follows. The screams don’t sound like lyrics being iterated; they sound like someone tearing themselves apart in real time. Every breakdown feels deliberately placed, exploding with controlled chaos and devastating impact. There’s a moment halfway through the track where a perfectly timed vocal additive lands with such force and emotion. It’s the kind of moment that flips a great track into an unforgettable one. It’s the kind of detail that shows just how thoughtful noah thomas is about emotional pacing, not just sonic impact.
Inside Of A Burned Dream is more than just a debut. It’s a fully realized emotional document, unafraid to confront loss, vulnerability, and inner violence with sincerity and sonic force. noah thomas has crafted something that feels deeply personal yet universally resonant, using music as both catharsis and canvas. It’s a raw and intensely intentional body of work that doesn’t just demand to be heard, but begs to be felt.
