Imagine a broken escalator coming up through the underbrush of a 
forest, stretching towards the treetops, no second floor left to 
receive its long-gone passengers. In the background, among the   
trees, you can make out the steel skeleton of what was once a    
great building, perhaps the transit hall of an airport. Once     
this was a busy hub filled with people going places. Now Mother  
Nature is recycling the remains, in her infinitely slow but      
irresistible way. What happened here? How did it happen? Or,     
perhaps, could it be that nothing ever did happen the way it was 
intended to?

These are among the questions asked by COVENANT on their seventh 
studio album "Modern Ruin". A title that implies a whole range   
of possible scenarios: a romantic lament over an epoch of        
optimism; a sense of imminent doom; futuristic archaeology; a    
cheeky comment on the state of the modern world...

What do the band think? They won't tell. So we're left to        
explore for ourselves and there is a lot to discover among the   
ruins. As you travel through the ever-changing soundscape of     
"Modern Ruin" you get pummeled by frantic beats, lured astray by 
soothing melodies, drowned in the static noise of furious        
machines, gently carried along the streams of unknown waveforms, 
confused by contradictions. But you're never completely lost.    
There are familiar landmarks as well. They may not look exactly  
like they used to, but they are enough to guarantee safe         
navigation.