The journey of creating Once Upon a Cloudtop Meadow began during the quiet, reflective time of the pandemic. At the time, I was involved in writing music for a video game, something I had always wanted to explore. However, as sometimes happens in creative collaborations, things don’t always go as planned. My vision and that of the game developer diverged. Ultimately, I quietly left the project. But as they say, every cloud has a silver lining.
I had already invested a great deal of creative energy into the project, and rather than let it fade into nothingness, I decided to rework these ideas—perhaps into something entirely different. At first, they were just sketches, fragments of melodies, and half-finished pieces sitting idly on my hard drive. I didn’t yet know what they would become. I certainly had no idea that eventually (five years, to be exact), they would evolve into an album that would feel like a reflection of my own transformation.
A Shift in Perspective
In many ways, this album marks a turning point in my creative journey. My past work had often been steeped in hauntology-infused, post-apocalyptic, existential, and escapist narratives—sound worlds shaped by faded memories, lost futures, and a yearning for something just out of reach. The music lived in the in-between spaces, evoking places that no longer existed or had never existed at all. Once Upon a Cloudtop Meadow feels like a far cry from all that. Gone were the eerie echoes and melancholic specters of time; in their place, I found warmth, light, and a world brimming with childlike wonder.
And yet, in hindsight, this shift was only natural. Becoming a father had reshaped my reality in ways I would never have dreamt. I was no longer an observer of distant, abstract worlds—I was living in a new one, shaped by bedtime stories and the everyday magic of childhood. The themes I once explored didn’t disappear; they softened, transformed by the presence of my daughter and the shifting landscape of my own life. The past still lingered, but instead of haunting me, it began to guide me toward something new. Everything—the music, the stories, the very way I approached creativity—came together in an unexpected yet inevitable way, reshaping not just my work, but my world.
Blending Music, Storytelling, and Childhood Imagination
It wasn’t long before I realized that the music I had been working on for the game could blend beautifully with the tales I was telling my daughter. I began to think of the music as the soundtrack to these bedtime adventures. The fariy-tale quality of the compositions seemed to naturally complement the stories of the Cloudman and the various characters they met along the way.
One fun element was the inclusion of toy instruments, which helped bring a sense of playful innocence to the album. Their delicate, quirky sounds evoked the spontaneity of childhood—a reminder that most memorable moments are those filled with playful wonder.
In many ways, I approached the music as if I were scoring an opera or ballet. Just like in those classical forms, I used instruments to represent different characters. The flute might signify a light, breezy character, while the cello might embody something more grounded and reflective. This technique allowed me to infuse the music with narrative depth, without the need for words. It’s a subtle touch, but one that invites the listener to imagine their own stories as they journey through the album.
A Time of Reflection
One of the unexpected gifts of the pandemic was the chance to slow down and truly bond with my daughter, who was three years old at the time. As the world outside felt uncertain, our little world at home became one filled with stories, laughter, and imagination. Every night, as part of her bedtime routine, I read her storybooks—tales of princesses and fairies, of course. Eventually, I began inventing my own bedtime stories, placing her as the main protagonist. Sometimes, she would intervene and change the direction of the story.
One thing she never seemed to enjoy was the slightest of tension and uncertainty, which are things that we usually encounter in stories, and which give the story the element of wonder and curiosity about what would happen next. This was something I strived to achieve with this music, too, where it is never too tense, it is all bright and sunny, and when it is nighttime, it is always warm and cosy, even if thunderstorms (or the pandemic) are blowing the city away.
Each night, she would wonder above the clouds to meet a certain "Cloudman," a dreamy character who would take her on fantastical adventures. New characters were introduced along the way, some from her favorite TV shows, others entirely imagined, each one with its own personality. At some point, I began recording her voice at bedtime—capturing her thoughts and questions. These recordings ended up as playful, almost secretive samples embedded in the album, adding a personal layer to the music, one that I hope neither she (and consequently me) would regret in the future. It is a difficult call to judge just how much it takes to be too exposed. Nevertheless, the album is crafted with love; it contains layers and layers of in-house jokes and memories.
I even captured the impulse response (IR) of her room (a separate blog post will detail this venture). This allowed me to create a reverb effect that gives the impression that some of the sounds on the album are coming directly from her room, adding another layer of inconsequential detail. It became a way to ground the album’s ethereal nature with something even more personal as if her world had become part of the music itself.
An Easter Egg Hunt for Keen Ears
For those who listen carefully, there are several references to classical works scattered throughout the album. I like to think of them as little 'easter eggs'—in-house jokes or nods to musical traditions that only the most attentive ears might pick up. I don't intend to make these references public; they're hidden treasures, waiting to be discovered by those who know where to look. It’s a fun, private layer of the album.
Epic Proportions: The Evolution of a Simple Idea
When I first started working on the album, I intended to compose a suite of short and sweet songs—something simple, light, and charming. At one point, I wanted to create the project like a Baroque suite where each piece is relatively short, each has a single mood, they are not narrative and all share the same key. But as the project unfolded, I found myself diving deeper into the details. I admit, the level of attention I’ve given to this album is, even by my own standards, is somewhat ridiculous. Every note, every sound, every layer was carefully crafted to serve the album’s narrative. What began as a modest project grew into something much larger, both in terms of time and scope.
As the album evolved, I realised that I didn’t just want to create a collection of songs; I wanted to make a cinematic experience where the listener could step into an imaginative world and embark on a journey, a recurring element in my creations and one that I should no longer fight against but embrace.
I returned to my roots in orchestral writing, handpicking instruments that evoke various colours and emotions. From sweeping strings to gentle winds, I wanted the music to tell a story without words, to feel as vivid and narrative as a film score.
The more I worked on it the deeper the project became. In the end, the album became a fusion of musical sketches, bedtime stories, and personal reflections—an epic journey above the clouds, guided by the playful and adventurous spirit of childhood.
After five years of patience, frustration, transformation, and dedication, Once Upon a Cloudtop Meadow will finally take flight this Thursday through a YouTube premiere. This was a long road—one that has carried me through moments of immense challenge, from creative roadblocks to one of the greatest health setbacks of my life. Through it all, my daughter was growing beside me, and in many ways, so was I. Clinging to this album, to the stories woven within it, gave me a sense of purpose in the midst of uncertainty. And now, as I prepare to share it with friends and listeners, I find myself filled with gratitude and anticipation. It will be an emotional night, to say the least—a moment of closure, but also a new beginning.
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