by Analogue of the Sun

supported by
Calum McMillan
Calum McMillan thumbnail
Calum McMillan I this is the best band in Glasgow right. Probably one of the best in Scotland. And in the UK.
As cutting edge as they come. If you love emotionally intense and experimental heavy music you NEED to listen to this. Favorite track: Snow on the Hull.
  • Streaming + Download

    Includes unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more.

      £2 GBP  or more


  • Compact Disc (CD) + Digital Album

    Hand stamped, featuring map artwork & printed lyrics in a package wonderfully designed by Svëltunttôyt. Limited to 100 copies.

    Includes unlimited streaming of Eardstapa via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more.
    ships out within 4 days

      £5 GBP or more 




released October 1, 2012

Music by Analogue of the Sun
Lyrics by Gil Thompson

Drums recorded at Elba Recording Studio by Stephen Scott
Mastered at Eighth Nerve by Kenny Inglis

Artwork by Svëltunttôyt



all rights reserved


Analogue of the Sun Inverclyde, UK

We are a psychedelic music collective and as such are interested in atmosphere, form and euphony.

contact / help

Contact Analogue of the Sun

Streaming and
Download help

Track Name: The Wanderer
A home
of the family
manned by trees
and banisters.
Smear to charcoal
fleshy fly unrolled.

No door but still the frame and wind is the wind

Birds in the clouds
Inland descending.
Track Name: Snow on the Hull
One thousand
fingers point
to where the
flag once was
to know that
I am wrong
and right for
Under the sky over and
over again.

This hull, my home
of the woven waves.

Everywhere I go waits.
Melted; melting.

I have found
the space around
the centre for far too long.

by the brink
Track Name: What the Thunder Said
It's called being dead.
Track Name: Synonymy
You’re a stone the sea refuses
and I am close for a wave
If this were good-bye
I’d hear you
If this were good-bye

There must be a war on, or something
There must be alarms where you are

We mar we leave and you should know
I’d never lived the way we lived
trace the ends of fingers
but she can’t free though she isn’t holding

I’m barely gone when I hear the echo
I was barely here

All our poised thread to exonerate
Surrender! Surrender!

None left for nausea