Darkwave has always lived in the space between the dance floor and the graveyard. Emerging from the post-punk and new wave currents of the late 1970s and early 1980s, it took the cold pulse of electronic music and wrapped it in shadow, romance, and a kind of beautiful emotional distance. At its core, darkwave is music of tension and atmosphere: minor-key melodies; icy synths; drum machines; reverb-soaked vocals; and a mood that can feel simultaneously intimate, nocturnal, and cinematic.
What makes the genre so enduring is its range. Darkwave can be skeletal and minimalist, lush and melancholic, or driving and club-ready, but it is always defined by feeling as much as form. Clan of Xymox helped establish the template, while acts like Psyche pushed its electronic edge forward. Today, artists such as She Past Away, NNHMN, Boy Harsher, Linea Aspera, Aux Animaux, Then Comes Silence, Ash Code, Light Asylum, Selofan, Lebanon Hanover, and Ultra Sunn continue to prove that darkwave is not a relic of the past, but a living, evolving language of modern darkness.
The selection in this feature has been curated to show the range of possibilities when dark moods meet expressive filters and amplifiers. It’s not a definitive history; it’s a taster. Use it as a starting point to explore.
Clan of Xymox – Stranger
The 4AD‑era Dutch band who accidentally gave darkwave its press‑friendly name. Early albums like their self‑titled debut and Medusa define the template: baritone vocals; chiming guitars; and analogue synths and drum machines pacing like caffeine-wired insomniacs. They bridge post‑punk mood and club‑ready electronics so cleanly that you can still slip them into current sets without a second thought.
“Stranger” was remixed by John Fryer at Blackwing Studios with an intensity and deftness of touch that still dominates the alternative dancefloor.
Psyche – Misery
Canadian veterans Psyche aren’t a purely darkwave act. Their earlier material, which was influenced by punk, Fad Gadget, Joy Division, and horror film soundtracks, crossed into the sound and style of darkwave with tracks like “The Crawler.” Power ballads, hard electro, and danceable allusions to The Exorcist also dot their catalogue. Kevin Smith really missed a trick by not using Psyche’s version of “Goodbye Horses” in Clerks II.
Formed in Edmonton, the band moved when the family did to Ontario before the Huss brothers decamped for Europe. The move was a commercial calculation: over in Vancouver, Skinny Puppy were combining dark electronics with gothic theatrics to similar effect. Add in Toronto’s Nash the Slash and there was only so much space in the Canadian music scene for horror-tronica in the mod-1980s. The relocation was also an artistic one: Psyche’s musical DNA owes a lot to the UK alternative scene; and it was a European audience dressed in black that embraced the duo most firmly.
Despite Darrin Huss looking like he hasn’t aged in decades, Psyche remain one of the great influences and presences on the darkwave scene.
NNHMN – Special
NNHMN make pulsing, narcotic dancemusic that fluidly crosses the boundaries between darkwave, coldwave, and even techno. The Berlin-based duo of Lee Margot and Michal Laudarg work with throbbing arpeggios, analogue synth drones, and distant yet intimate vocals to weave their magick.
Margot’s vocals have a dramatic, insistent – almost incantory – style that creates atmospheres full of longing. The instrumentation doesn’t sit in one groove, but it does compel black vegan leather boots to move towards the dancefloor.
Hante. – Wild Animal
Hante. is Hélène de Thoury’s solo universe: icy synths; sharp drum programming; and vocals that sound like letters never sent. Her tracks balance stark electronics with strong melodic lines, sitting somewhere between classic coldwave and contemporary darkwave.
The production is spacious but direct; making even the hookiest songs feel intimate and slightly haunted. Across a string of albums and EPs, she’s become one of the clearest voices in the scene. Sadly, de Thoury was forced to step back from live performance and most recording as a result of an inner ear dysfunction brought about by Covid-19.
Minuit Machine – Don’t Run from the Fire
Minuit Machine sit at the electro end of the darkwave spectrum. Originally a duo of Amandine Stioui and Hélène de Thoury, they built their reputation on stern, mid‑tempo kicks, minor‑key synth leads, and vocals that sit between confession and mantra. There’s a strong EBM backbone, but the songwriting leans toward verses and choruses rather than pure loops. With the semi-retirement of de Thoury, Stioui has kept the project alive.
She Past Away – Asimilasyon
She Past Away brought post‑punk guitars back to the centre of the darkwave dancefloor and reinvigorated the genre. Originating in Turkey, they blend core 1980s darkwave elements – urgent basslines and minimalist synths – with modern production.
Volkan Caner and İdris Akbulut have created one of the most prominent acts on the scene; connecting older aesthetics with new audiences while fostering an international following.
Kælan Mikla – Hvernig kemst ég upp?
Kælan Mikla sound like darkwave as reimagined by a coven on an Icelandic cliff. Starting from poetry and performance, the trio moved into a mixture of bass, synths and ritualistic vocals – often in Icelandic. Their songs move between sharp post‑punk drive and almost folk‑like incantation, but the mood stays firmly on the shadowed side.
Silent EM – Wraith
Silent EM makes darkwave that feels like it was found on a lost NY club tape and remastered for the future. The project leans on insistent drum machines, prowling basslines, and vocals that sound like internal monologue broadcast over the PA. There’s a definite post‑punk backbone, but the arrangements obey club logic: repetition; tension; and release. It’s music for small, dark rooms where the lights are low, the BPM is patient, and the vibe is everything.
Linea Aspera – Malarone
Linea Aspera gave minimal synth a darkwave emotional upgrade. Zoè Zanias and Ryan Ambridge built tracks from tight, EBM‑adjacent sequencer lines, then layered in lyrics about medicine, bodies and memory. Their early‑2010s work became instantly canonical, inspiring a wave of bands who wanted club‑friendly arrangements with brainy, bruised storytelling.
The act took an indefinite break in 2013, but fans were thrilled by the announcement in 2019 of a reunion. In 2020, LP II was released. It reaffirmed Linea Aspera as one of the most important artists in the scene: Alison Lewis’ vocals retained their drama and emotional qualities; while the underground aesthetic of the instrumentation made careful use of negative space.
Sierra Veins – Ain’t No Woman
Sierra Veins is best described as darkwave-adjacent, rather than a canonical act. The French artist creates darkwave-influenced material that draws on the mood and cinematic darkness of the scene while leaning more heavily into EBM and techno rhythms. Her style feels like a designer blend of genres, while the effect is intense without losing its composure. File it with the modern French wave of acts who treat the club as both confessional booth and pressure valve.
The Curse of 2016 took a lot of artists from us. The year opened with Lemmy’s passing fresh in everyone’s minds, and the roll call of musicians claimed by the Grim Reaper kicked off from there: David Bowie, Prince and Vanity, Leonard Cohen, Pierre Boulez, Keith Emerson and Greg Lake, Gisela May, Craig Gill (Inspiral Carpets), Pete Burns, Caroline Crawley, James Woolley (Nine Inch Nails), Alan Vega (Suicide), Steven Young (M/A/R/R/S and Colourbox) and Richard Lyons (Negativland) all shuffled off this mortal coil. We’ve often said at 
As the half of Psyche who handled the keyboards, Stephen Huss was a legend of Canadian alternative music. His spiky hair and hook-laden synth lines were instantly recognisable, and Psyche’s style became the template for a dozen imitators.
Sarah Badr’s FRKTL project matured in 2016 with a proper second album. The first release from the Anglo-Egyptian digital pioneer was Atom, back in 2011: an electro-acoustic marvel that stretched sounds beyond recognition. Qualia, named for the psychological and philosophical categories of qualities that are always experienced but hard to explain, went further and incorporated Badr’s voice and world rhythms suitable for the dance club into mixes that were both exotic and intriguing.
There are signs that Covenant, the Swedish darkwave legends, are slowly, collectively, morphing into Brian Eno. It’s certainly hard to avoid that conclusion when a feature of their new album is the sound of the sea and engines being focused by a parabolic sound mirror; particularly as they were attracted to it as a sonic and historical metaphor for Europe’s response to the Mediterranean refugee crisis. The Blinding Dark puts some of the experimentation that was reserved for the bonus disc on Leaving Babylon in the foreground, even as it showcases the band’s continuing deftness with energetic rhythms.
Nash the Slash is sorely missed. A true Canadian original, he is known outside of his home and native land mainly for his early work with Gary Numan and an album produced by Steve Hillage. However, Nash was also a composer of soundtracks to surrealist films (“Un Chien Andolou”) and – so we argue – the inventor of the sounds that became signatures for The Orb and System 7.
Are we allowed to blow our own trumpet? Well, we’re going to, because the Heresy compilation blew many minds in 2016. A tribute to Rational Youth, it gathers no less than nineteen artists, including the Canadian electro-pioneers and two former members of the band, into three vinyl platters. There is a CD bundled into the package, but no downloads. There is no way not to touch the vinyl in order to play the material. You can almost hear Super Hans saying: “No downloads.”
Speaking of Rational Youth, they made 2016 better with a new album up their sheer black sleeves, in the form of Future Past Tense. The first studio album from RY since To the Goddess Electricity, it proved that the Canadian pioneers have lost none of their sense of melody or political angst. The lead single, “This Side of the Border,” is influenced by Canadian nationalism, social democracy, nostalgia and The Who – a heady cocktail made more potent by the addition of Gaenor Howe’s vocals.
It is hard to believe that Vile Electrodes are only on their second studio album. Britain’s best synth band stunned with The Future Through a Lens, which established a benchmark for the island’s electronic scene with tracks like “Proximity” and “Nothing.” Now that the island has decided to sink into the Atlantic, rather than accept European influences, the Viles are setting the bar again in a less pop-oriented vein.
Pole position for 2016 didn’t go to an obvious choice with a hipster following on Facebook. Eric Random has come and gone from the music scene over the years, but is most closely associated with Cabaret Voltaire and its Doublevision label. Random’s return in 2016 with Words Made Flesh kept some of the indie-industrial vibe from his earlier recordings, but was notable for repositioning dance music as something with character and texture. With influences drawn from world music, Random breathed new life into electronica, as this stand-out track demonstrates.