Bastion’s Wake “Go Tell the Bees” Is A Vessel Of Stories For Everyone Who Has Lived, Lost, and Returned

There’s something so intriguing when you name an album “Go Tell the Bees”. Like, excuse me, are we really talking to bees now? No — but close. So you listened to the album and realized Bastion’s Wake is onto something great, the kind that cannot be replicated by some AI or any formulaic pursuit to become “in”. It’s the sound from genuine people and their passion to share and create.

Bastion’s Wake, hailing from Wilmington, DE, United States, is known for their seamless blend of melodic death, doom influences, and symphonic power metal. The band was formed in 2016 as the brainchild of Sami and Ray, later on joined by drummer Rob Westbrook and bassist Ben Westbrook. The album was recorded at Electric Fossil Studios in Milford, DE, with engineer Kirby Fitzgerald while the production process overseen by Øystein G. Brun of Crosound Studio in Norway.

Going back to the album’s title, you might think it’s too fun or whimsy, but it’s rooted in a long-held myth from beekeepers: inform the hives they kept of significant life events such as birth, death, or even departure to keep them alive and thriving. Somehow, that myth resonates so well with the entirety of this album, from the acoustic opener Motanka, to recognizing heroic actions of Ukrainian people in the ending track Sunflower, Bastion’s Wake honors the living and the lost through a 10-part album.

Go Tell the Bees opens with Motanka and it’s a minute dominated by acoustic guitar that feels gloomy from the way it trembles. The title Motanka, is a Slavic doll made for wishes and protection, which is why there’s a sense of ritual echoing from the strings you can’t shake off.

Willow’s Ruse follows with soaring guitars and pounding drum hits, the kind that pulls you in as it crashes and collides. The vocals carry grief yet charged with resilience, loud yet with grace that isn’t taught but learned as they sing, “am I leaving, leaving in sorrow, am I leading, leading you there”. Think of an elegy and awakening dressed in distortion, with sharpness that cuts through the pain and the past, trembling and unsure but rises with bruises and clenched teeth.

(Don’t) Tell the Bees comes in haunting and raw, like a villain rising from despair and the shadows of their own doom. Every layer of the arrangement all leads to one thing: wreckage. Lyrically, you’ll get a piece that lies between poetry and confession, all coming from the things that bring us guilt, the things we do to hide shame. There’s sorrow and menace along the lines, “she is the monster and I am a fiend”. It’s twisted, toxic, and destructive all at once.

Another standout track is Tiny Box which welcomes you with a darker atmosphere. Think of a dream that isn’t half-remembered, the kind that imprints itself to your mind, uncovering all the fragile and unsettling. There’s tension in every note, it’s as if it just learned the weight of the choices etched in the lines of the palm, not knowing how to carry them. The tiny box feels like a medium, a fragile one that asks you to bear the weight of all you wished for and all that was lost. And when you’re nearing the end of the track, the vocals and instruments explode into something cathartic, asking you a question, “would you give your illusions to me?”

Pathos starts with slow, evocative keys like it’s straight out of a Disney musical. There’s dazzle and grandeur in the arrangement while a voice rides above with grace and broadway flair. Listening to this feels like standing in the midst of the ruins, bruised and wounded as the light starts to claim every space. This is an anthem of courage and self-reclamation that belongs to the stage and spotlight, it’s for everyone who carried ache and vulnerability and built themselves piece by piece.

The best part in this album lies in the band’s ability to be loud and deliberate. Some heavy songs typically get swayed by volume and rage, but surprisingly, every layer of each track in this album sounds so delicate and intentional, theirs to be exact. And the lyrics? You won’t get something half-baked. It’s poetic, deep, and truly lived in. From grief, loss, and awakening hope, the band made sure it reaches and resonates to the core.

This isn’t just about bees. It’s curated for you to find something that speaks and connects on a personal level. Bastion’s Wake establishes a record that feels less like an album and more like a vessel of stories that can only be told once you’ve lived, lost, or returned.