Lights of Vimana—Neopolis (2025)

Details

Mixed by Jeremy Lewis | Mastered by Evgeny Semenov at Slow Burn Studio | Cover painting by Savannah Lewis | Released 13 June 2025 via Dusktone

For fans of: My Dying Bride, Porcupine Tree, Slow, Void of Silence, Opeth

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Band

Déhà – Vocals
Jeremy Lewis – Guitars and Bass
Riccardo Conforti – Drums, Keyboards and Drones
Nicole Fiameni (Eurynome) – Additional vocals on “Endure” and “Real”

Tracks

Nowhere (14:10)
Endure (9:50)
Real (11:35)
Neopolis (4:26)
Remember Me (8:10)

Review

Every so often, an album comes along that feels less like a collection of songs and more like a place – a mood, a world, a breath suspended in time. Neopolis is that kind of record. The debut from Lights of Vimana – an international collaboration between Riccardo Conforti, Jeremy Lewis, and Déhà – feels like stepping into a vast, crumbling city at twilight, where memories echo in the empty streets and the air hums with the tension between decay and transcendence.

“Nowhere” (track 1) opens with an ominous pulse, a slow heartbeat beneath solemn strings. There’s something cinematic about it – as if we’re watching the opening frames of a lost sci-fi film, all smoke and neon reflection. The piece unfolds patiently, guitars tracing sorrowful lines against a foundation of drones and bass, while Déhà’s voice – part chant, part lament – rises from the haze. It’s majestic without arrogance, mournful without despair.

With “Endure” (track 2), the mood shifts from shadow to fragile light. The song begins ethereal, almost otherworldly, with Eurynome’s guest vocals shining like a soft dawn through fog. When the bass synth arrives, it’s like the sun breaching the horizon – sudden and radiant. The interplay between whispered verses, mournful clean passages, and eventual growls gives the track a striking emotional range. The contrast of power and delicacy here recalls early Opeth or even the gothic melancholy of Sisters of Mercy.

“Real” (track 3) continues that duality. It swells and contracts, ghostly vocals melting into surging melodies. At times it soars, triumphant; at others it sinks into introspection, anchored by Déhà’s aching delivery. For an eleven-minute song, it feels fleeting – a testament to its hypnotic flow.

The instrumental “Neopolis” (track 4) is the album’s beating heart – a short, atmospheric interlude that feels like the soundscape of the city itself. Long pads, patient guitars, and distant drums form a drifting, cinematic texture. About two-thirds through, a new melody breaks free – slow, precise, majestic – before everything dissolves into a fading wall of distortion.

Finally, “Remember me” (track 5) merges seamlessly from the title track’s dying embers. It’s as if the album takes a final breath, a last reflection. The song embodies everything Neopolis does best: grand, emotional doom textures; soaring clean vocals; chugging riffs that feel carved from granite. There’s a mid-section so minimal it feels dreamlike – a lone guitar cutting through the reverb before the song wakes again, roaring toward its end. It closes with a lingering chord that fades into silence – the perfect curtain fall.

Production-wise, Neopolis is impeccable. Jeremy Lewis’s mix balances clarity and atmosphere beautifully; every layer breathes, every nuance feels deliberate. It’s a record that rewards close listening through headphones – the small textures in the drones, the decays of the reverb tails, the subtle interplay between synthetic and organic sounds.

Conclusion

It’s been a while since I published a review – the last few months have been somewhat brutal, to put it lightly. But what an album to take into this darkness and carry me through it.

I’ve lived with this album for months now. It became my companion through long nights – a soundtrack to both struggle and quiet healing. For something so sorrowful, Neopolis is strangely uplifting; it finds grace in ruin and beauty in endurance. My only criticism is that it ends too soon. I could have lived in this world another hour.

Review score: 100 %

Video

Disclosure

Anubi Press contacted me inviting me to preview Lights of Vimana’s forthcoming album, thank you. I have no connections to either Anubi Pressor Lights of Vimana. I’m not being paid to review this, but I did get a free digital copy of the album to review which is pretty cool. Many thanks to Anubi Press, and to Lights of Vimanafor continuing to create fresh, exciting doom metal.