Montreal-based trio Pēlikel return today with “Aether Voyage,” a new single that serves as a centrepiece for their forthcoming EP Okay, Maybe, expected this fall. The song is rooted in a piece of adolescent writing—unearthed, revised, and reinterpreted years later—and reflects on the fragile line between nostalgia and detachment.
“The existential fear is always there, but it gets more tolerable as you grow older,” said vocalist Kevin Semaan. “You realize everyone is a little bit anxious all the time. Nobody’s ever really ready to grow up.”
Semaan wrote the lyrics as a teenager living in Beirut, then shelved them for years. With the band now based in Montreal, the track has taken on new meaning—bridging past and present, youth and adulthood, disconnection and resolve. The lyrics remain cryptic, touching on themes of alienation and impermanence, with the central question—“Will I ever learn about gravity?”—casting a long shadow.
Musically, “Aether Voyage” leans into ambience and texture. Acoustic guitars and falsetto vocals drift through hazy layers of harmony and found sound. In the final minute, the song builds toward an orchestral crescendo, hinting at the kind of unspoken emotions that don’t quite resolve but linger.
Listen below:
Pēlikel formed in Beirut and relocated to Montreal following the release of their 2021 debut Shambles. While that album skewed toward a progressive rock palette, the band’s more recent output is harder to pin down, blending folk, pop, ambient, and classical elements. Their multilingual backgrounds and wide-ranging influences give their work a distinct shape—one that doesn’t sit neatly within genre lines.
The band’s name, a nod to the French word “pellicule,” speaks to both cinema and fragility. It’s an apt metaphor for their songs, which often feel like flickers of memory rendered in soft focus. With “Aether Voyage,” Pēlikel step further into that liminal space, offering a song that feels less like a declaration than a question left deliberately unanswered.
