Release Date: Feb 20th, 2026

Workaholism is often described as the affliction of our age—an illness born of relentless ambition and sleepless creativity. They say it can be cured. Yet while I wouldn’t mind being freed from this strangely enjoyable condition myself, as a devoted listener, I can only hope that my favourite musicians never seek the remedy. One such creative workaholic is undoubtedly Inga Habiba, the co-architect of this project. For what feels like years now, with near-clockwork regularity, I’ve received word of yet another new recording, another concert, another bold artistic venture from this tireless artist—best known for her long-standing role in the group Lorien. And I must confess, every such announcement fills me with delight, because whatever Inga touches invariably turns into something of substance—something intriguing, something utterly deserving of attention.

It was therefore with genuine excitement that I immersed myself in this new album—another collaborative creation bearing Inga’s unmistakable signature. Her partner in this venture is Peter Guellard—known in Poland as Piotr Dyda Czyszanowski—now based in the United States, and well familiar to fans of dark and gothic music through his earlier work with Blitzkrieg. With such formidable creative spirits joined together, one could expect nothing less than magic—and indeed, what they have conjured is something exceptional. The union of two such distinctive artistic minds could only yield one result: brilliance. This album is precisely that—unique, daring, and unpredictable, yet at the same time remarkably accessible, instantly captivating, and sensually intoxicating.

The music of Death By Love resists easy classification, deftly slipping between genres while remaining true to the essence of both artists’ roots. It is a rich, alchemical blend of industrial and gothic sonorities infused with elements of trip-hop, folk, rock, alternative pop, and even the hypnotic pulse of Arabic music—perhaps with a few other flavors folded in for good measure. Each component is seamlessly woven into a coherent whole, creating a sound that grips the listener and refuses to let go. This is music for those who crave new sensations—for those willing to venture into uncharted sonic realms.

Of course, one might attempt to trace the fingerprints of influence here and there—but in truth, that feels beside the point. The real experience lies not in analysis, but in surrender: to absorb this music, to feel it pulse and echo through you. And in this regard, the album delivers completely. It can be fierce—at moments almost metallic—yet it also carries a profound wistfulness, a melancholic grace. Electronics hum and shimmer; rhythms loop into trances; tender folk motifs drift like mist. Inga’s voice soars with both power and fragility, weaving haunting melodies, while Peter contributes spoken passages and deep, textured vocal lines. Together they form a soundscape that feels both vast and intimate—a rare and exquisite balance of the cerebral and the emotional.

In the end, it’s far easier to list what this record lacks than what it offers. And the only thing missing—so far—is its physical release. But I know it’s coming. And when it does, I’ll be the first in line—because this is an album worth holding in your hands as much as in your heart.