Recorded by long-time collaborator and producer Elliot Heinrich at the band’s own Pony Studios in East London, it’s clear that Tempesst spent time developing a sound tailored to the subject matter. Parallels can be drawn from the great alternative writers of the nineties (Stipe, Buckley, Cocker) by way of the storied lineage of the dark narrators (Cohen, Waits, Cave). “My process is mostly reactive, like writing a journal and reflecting on what I watch, read and listen to,” says Lyricist Toma Banjanin, citing “The Myth of Sisyphus” by Albert Camus as an influence of the record. Forbidden Fruit showcases a new sound, shedding their previous Spector-esque production for a modern hi-fi approach. Tempesst maintain a surrealist soundscape with precision, conjuring images of René Magritte: layered sounds within sounds to draw the listener deeper. They lean into chaos, with fuzz-infused, reverb-laden guitars that drone through the record indifferent to harmony, restrained by a swampy rhythm section. Tempesst reach for the bright lights of the expressionist late eighties while descending into the rawness of the early nineties.