Phantom Heir’s new EP, Fragile Immortals, lands July 4 as a digital release and it marks a new phase for the Philadelphia-based solo project, blending djent-leaning weight with post-metal atmospherics and socio-political commentary.
While previous releases were entirely solo efforts, this is the first to feature outside collaboration: Angel Eduardo (Blue Food) handles clean vocals and lyrics, while Redouane Aouameur (Lelahell) delivers harsh vocals and lyrics.
Written, arranged, mixed, and mastered across Barcelona, Athens, Sofia, and Philadelphia, the EP was produced over nearly two years. It circles around themes of tyranny, collapse, resistance, and reckoning — grounded in the now but aware of historical cycles. Phantom Heir comments, “As the black cloud that looms above our new dark ages grows darker with each day of senseless violence and oppression, this release has never felt more imperative and prescient. Regimes may rise and fall, but the perennial waves of resistance to tyranny will always endure.”
Everything Is Noise magazine describes the EP as “dark, horrific, and seemingly utterly hopeless,” reflecting anguish in both tone and instrumentation. Stylistically, while it sits in the djent/post-metal space, the music veers away from genre clichés, relying on layering, recursion, and tonal contrast rather than technical showmanship.
The four tracks follow a loosely narrative structure, unfolding like an extended manifesto. Phantom Heir describes the opening track, The Inquisition, as “a prelude to the interrogation of one’s soul. A call to question wrongful authority and to manifest both individual and collective integrity.” Written last, it ties the EP together with a motif from the final track, setting a cyclical tone. The track pairs samples of gunfire with sounds of life—open air markets, calls to prayer—to show how violence and resilience coexist. “Resilience is embedded in the framework of civilization; the will to live and endure is its own act of resistance.”
The Revelation comes next, emerging from a minimal setup of laptop, interface, and baritone guitar during a nomadic writing period. Phantom Heir originally titled it Edge of the Earth, and that phrase still surfaces in the lyrics. Angel Eduardo proposed the final title to align the record’s four tracks with a shared prefix—“The”—emphasizing continuity. Eduardo explains the concept behind his lyrics: “It’s about giving into base desires and forgoing virtue… the acceptance of ‘The Tyrants’, and the justifications and rationalizations we come up with for that status quo once it’s in place.” The track grapples with moral relativism, perception, and how truth becomes fluid when tied to ideology.
The Tyrants builds on this with alternating heavy and dissonant guitars. According to Phantom Heir, the term “fragile immortals” (initially considered as the title of this song) refers to “leaders and hierarchal figures who… manifest a sort of malevolent demigod persona” out of fear of losing control. “We see this fragility everywhere today, not just in leaders, but in their acolytes and how it trickles down into society as a whole.” Eduardo adds, “It’s the fragile immortal basically saying ‘I only have the power you give me.’” His lines — “we own the lie, only by your omission” — speak to complicity and passive empowerment. The manipulation of power structures hinges not on brute force alone, but on collective silence.
Closing track The Harbinger stretches into epic territory, merging baglamas and drone machine with stacked guitars and layered vocals. Phantom Heir notes, “It’s a fusion of chaos and peace… this time, we end on a glimmer of hope.” Eduardo calls it “the turn, when people wake up and start pushing back.” His lyrics aim to reclaim what’s been lost: “Ashes to flame / Rubble to frame / Lashes to cane / Humbled to bane.” The final lines offer no clean resolution, but they insist on movement, momentum, and reckoning.
Fragile Immortals is less a call to arms than a record of what’s been endured and what continues to fester. The lyrical content explicitly targets imperialism, apartheid, capitalism, and environmental destruction. In Phantom Heir’s words, it’s for “those who endure and suffer the horrors and atrocities of imperialism and apartheid… for those repulsed by witnessing and experiencing this inhumanity of humankind.” It speaks directly to the violent cycles of control and extraction, but insists that these systems are neither stable nor permanent.
See the full track by track commentary below:
The Inquisition
Phantom Heir: This was actually the last track written for the EP. By the time I’d finished the other three tracks, I knew I needed an intro to tie it all together. The main riff here is a repeated motif from the last track, which is something I explored on my debut album Fear Harness. Recursion is a theme I like playing with both musically and thematically, and it seemed appropriate here as a subtle way of demonstrating the endless cycle of tyranny and warfare. Redouane’s vocals here are almost detached and far away, like a distant cry of anguish. It really sets the tone of what to expect from the rest of the EP.
The samples of gunfire and explosions are intentionally hollow and impassive. I didn’t want to cheapen the severe plights many people are forced to endure each day, but I did want to acknowledge that this is a real thing we cannot turn away from or ignore.
I wanted to juxtapose those sounds of violence with sonic textures that convey a sense of civility and peace; the morning call to prayer, the ambience of open air markets in various locations — life and death intertwined, oppressor and oppressed in unrequited symbiosis. I wanted to show that against all odds, life continues on and that humans persevere regardless of the forces that seek to destroy them. Resilience is embedded in the framework of civilization; the will to live and endure is its own act of resistance.
I call it “The Inquisition” because it’s a prelude to the interrogation of one’s soul. A call to question wrongful authority and to manifest both individual and collective integrity.
The Revelation
PH: The main riff in this song is the first one I came up with for this record. I was living abroad for several months and had a very sparse setup of an audio interface, a laptop, and a baritone guitar, which formed the basis of every track on this release. It became a case of being resourceful with limited items in a perpetually nomadic situation; constraints often force the best results.
Originally, this was called “Edge of the Earth”. Redouane even utters that towards the end of the track. Angel suggested we change the title after writing the lyrics for his parts, and that spawned the idea of giving each song the prefix of “The” as a consistent element to tie each track together.
The thought there was to make this EP feel like one continuous train of thought — like an appeal or manifesto spread across chapters (or movements). So after the somber introspection of “The Inquisition”, the mix seamlessly dives right into the aggressive action with “The Revelation”. And we get our first experience with an interplay between Redouane’s and Angel’s vocals.
I guess that’s sort of the revelation here — the notion that regardless of whatever faction or side we’ve chosen, we often tend to become insulated in that cause and let it narrowly define us without realizing the other side is quite possibly seeking something similar — through different means, perhaps. It’s an acknowledgment of how objective morality doesn’t really exist; truth is ultimately a matter of one’s own perception, and the truth can be manipulated to service whatever agenda is convenient for justifying one’s cause. We see that a lot today, but if history repeats itself, it begs the question: has it always been like this?
Angel Eduardo: “The Revelation” is about giving into base desires and forgoing virtue. That’s why I reference the seven deadly sins and talk about “the god of the depraved.” The idea is that this is the fall from grace, the acceptance of “The Tyrants”, and the justifications and rationalizations we come up with for that status quo once it’s in place. That’s why I say at the end, “Saving face in the shadow of the turning” — with “the shadow of the turning” being another term for God, juxtaposed with the idea of “saving face in the shadow,” or hiding one’s shame.
The Tyrants
PH: This track was originally named after the title of the EP. Redouane repeats it a lot throughout the song, which still fits since a “fragile immortal” is just a fancy way of referring to a tyrant.
The notion of a fragile immortal is that we have always been surrounded by leaders and hierarchal figures who — with enough power and time — become so corrupt and deluded by their agenda and doctrine that they manifest a sort of malevolent demigod persona. The lust for endless power, control, wealth, and supremacy stems from this deeply rooted insecurity and struggle within — the fear of losing it all. A cowered animal will bare its teeth, but only because it’s afraid. For a fragile immortal, the fear has become so weaponized, they are no longer preyed upon, but the very predator themselves.
We see this fragility everywhere today, not just in leaders, but in their acolytes and how it trickles down into society as a whole. There’s this misguided assumption that because an established system or empire is in place, it’s immovable and permanent. But they’re more unstable and frail than they’d like us to think. It’s the fear that keeps them at the height of their supremacy — the fear that one day, they will lose control. So they hold onto it against all odds, no matter who gets hurt or destroyed in the process.
This is a theme that emerges frequently in Angel’s lyrics, especially with his wordplay of phrases like, “we own the lie, only by your omission.” With some clever delay and reverb, omission becomes the mission. It’s simple, but I think highly effective at getting to the heart of what makes a fragile immortal tick. The guitar parts oscillate between a balance of heaviness and discordance. It’s a way of expressing how a fragile immortal can be both a shrill nuisance and a grotesque behemoth. And either one always demands attention.
AE: “The Tyrants” is all about that dynamic, from the opposite point of view. It’s the fragile immortal basically saying “I only have the power you give me.” That’s why they “own the lie, only by your omission.” The space you give me, the rope you give me, the authority you give me, is why I am everywhere, why I’ve got you tied, and why I’m in power. “Thieves breeding in your despair / Greed leeching the blood you bare / We’re haunting a hollow stair / Fear crowning your King Nowhere” It’s all hollow, and being held up by you.
The Harbinger
PH: The final chapter. This is the culmination of the EP, which is why it’s the longest track.
I wanted to end things on a crushing, epic note, like a dramatic battle. There’s a lot of things going on here — a drone machine, anguished and layered vocals, massive quad tracked guitars, thall-like ambience, and even a baglamas. I picked up the latter instrument at a market in Athens, Greece. I knew I wanted something that sounded earnest yet primordial, like it had been here before and would be here long afterwards. Something with an enduring voice. It only has a couple of small parts, but they’re some of my favorite inclusions.
The song is a fusion of chaos and peace, like the opening track. Only this time, we end on a glimmer of hope, on what can be achieved through solidarity and collective liberation. But before we get there, we go through a myriad of highs and lows. The vocals really do a lot of the heavy lifting here. I wanted this to be the final emotional appeal, a plea to not be forgotten or cast aside. Like Angel says, it’s a harbinger of what’s to come — tragic or hopeful.
AE: “The Harbinger” is indeed the turn, when people wake up and start pushing back. It’s a statement of purpose — the people saying they will no longer tolerate the status quo, and that the tyrants are going down. “Here’s your dead letter / The colossus will fall / The shadow’s turning on” is a direct notice (and it also brings back that image of the “shadow of the turning.” It has kept turning and the face is revealed again in the light). All the previous damage will be undone: “Ashes to flame / Rubble to frame / Lashes to cane / Humbled to bane.” It was definitely a cool idea to put those backing vocals at the end like that, because it really does hammer home that the “change is gonna come,” as Sam Cooke once sang.
