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AGNES HAUS

Eidolon

RELEASE DATE: OCTOBER 9, 2026

“They are always there, spectres, even if they do not exist…”
—Jacques Derrida

LINE welcomes Agnes Haus, a UK-based non-binary audio-visual artist and composer with their latest work, Eidolon.

As an examination of the elasticity of time and its relation to sound—a temporal paradox. The intention of Eidolon was to create a score for an experimental film before the visual, mirroring the parallax of how the world moves fast, while isolated elements move slowly—out of order—misaligned in the spaces between. Five standalone cues that, at times, barely hang in the residue of the location; other times, the disorienting darkness is inescapable.

Composed on a small, evolving dissonant modular synthesizer and the occasional bowed tone from a makeshift 2-string self-built violin-like instrument, Eidolon is a non-linear accompaniment to a synesthetic visual; a ghost of a film. The visual of a hovering vibration to accompany the intonation of a shapeless location. Beatless but heavy, timeless but aged, created for the darkness and the stillness amid lost futures: the sound of the eye of the storm; the sound of phantasms among the living, unconvinced of the linear aspect of motion.

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Catalog:
LINE_179
Format:
digital
Edition:
open edition
Release:
October 2026
Tracklist:

act.I (08:14)
act.II (05:58)
act.III (07:37)
act.IV (09:13)
act.V (10:10)

All tracks written and recorded by Agnes Haus in Brighton, UK.
Cover art by Agnes Haus

Agnes Haus is a UK-based non-binary audio-visual artist and composer creating murky, fractured aural landscapes revolving around semi-autonomous explorations made entirely with modular synthesizers.

In 2023 and 2024, respectively, their first two albums, Sequel and Everything Is Resurrection were released on the renowned cassette label Opal Tapes, and praised for their bleak minimalism and organic spaciousness. In 2025, Inexorable Ascent, a study on sound creation in the AM hours, was released on Nite Hive. Their live performances are akin to a live score; fully improvisational, purposefully hypnotic, with haunting self-created filmic visuals.

Along with audio, Agnes Haus is arguably best known for their video work, exploring the dark and the surreal for artists such as Mogwai, Lau Ro, and Penelope Trappes. They have shown their visual work at Queen Elisabeth Hall, Attenborough Centre for the Arts, EarTH, Dark MOFO Festival, Sonica Festival and SXSW.

www.agnes.haus

REVIEWS OF
Eidolon

  • Eidolon, out now on Richard Chartier’s LINE imprint, follows two cassettes for Opal Tapes and Inexorable Ascent on Nite Hive. Agnes Haus wrote it in anticipation of the images, which reverses their usual order of work: five cues, titled act.I through act.V, created with that dissonant modular rig and the occasional bowed tone from a handmade two-string, violin-like instrument. The music is beatless, slow, and dark, with the prominent hiss and grit of the rig left intact.
    —thetonearm.com

  • Brighton based composer Agnes Haus generates dark spectral sounds that seem to drift up from the underworld. When Haus is not making modular synth hymns, they create chilling, surreal music videos for Mogwai, Penelope Trappes and Alexander Tucker. The veil between Haus’s visual and sonic worlds is thin, with Eidolon intended as the score for an experimental film before the visual.

    The album is described as “a non-linear accompaniment to a synesthetic visual” and it works in accord with that mission statement. Eidolon is the sound of the feeling of being followed, the auditory version of terror spreading unhurriedly through your system. Its five tracks do an unnerving job of creating tunnels of dread which resonate with growling reverb and low drones that rise from the bowels of the Earth. As with their previous records, Sequel and Everything Is Resurrection on Opal Tapes, then Inexorable Ascent last year on Nite Hive, few shafts of light gain admission but there are brief glimpses of something piercing through the bleak shadows, before the angst takes over again.

    “Act Il” is the brightest piece here, ebbing and flowing with chimes and buzzes that call to mind Mogwai’s soundtrack work, then it’s straight back to the anxiety with “Act I!!”, featuring a modular synth siren against a scraping noise, the type of sounds that tickle our amygdala into sending distress signals to the brain. “Act IV” gives way to an electronic church organ melody, lifting itself out of the ethereal gloom with gleaming ambient tones, then “Act V” sounds like a slow death march, with a solemn knell ushering the ghostly shapes back out again.
    —The Wire, UK

  • We are in experimental mood this week, clearly. Brighton-based Agnes Haus is name you should know. An “audio-visual artist and composer creating murky, fractured aural landscapes revolving around semi-autonomous explorations made entirely with modular synthesisers”, they are closely associated with Moonbuilding fave, Penelope Trappes.

    Naming conventions have been interesting this week. Here Agnes plumps for Acts, 1-5. I do like how conventions like that give the work weight, I think that’s to do with the artist treating it like classical composition. I did start looking at composers like Debussy, Stravinsky and Prokofiev to see what they did with titles of their work… they did like their themes alongside stuff like ‘Symphony No.2’.

    Agnes says ‘Eidolon’ is “a non-linear accompaniment to a synesthetic visual; a ghost of a film”, it’s “a score for an experimental film before the visual”. An imaginary film soundtrack if you will. The release is an “examination of the elasticity of time and its relation to sound – a temporal paradox”. The unmade film is all about “mirroring the parallax of how the world moves fast, while isolated elements move slowly… misaligned in the spaces between”.

    It does very much have the vibe of a soundtrack. You can hear that from the off. We move from the total fear, do-not-play-this-in-the dark-on-your-own of ‘act.I’ to the rather beautiful ‘act.II’, which flickers away gently. It’s not long before we’re back into heebie jeebie territory with the very tense ‘act.III’. It has this shiver that’s almost Herrmann-like, a Hitchcockian dagger glinting. Shit, this stuff. The closing ‘act.V’ is properly ominous. It has this huge chiming sound running all the way through it, like time is running out. Which, you know, speaking existentially, it is. Chilling.
    —Moonbuilding Weekly