When I first spoke with Samuel Death (Tides) about the idea of a blog post to shed some more light on the stories behind his new album 'Where Her Flowers Still Bloom', I had a feeling this would become one of the most heartfelt and moving entries to this blog, so far. This album reflects upon the emotional journey of watching a loved one fade and in this case, through early-onset dementia. Whilst the music immediately moved me even without any context, as we worked together on producing the release it became clear that this was more than just a record; it was for Sam a vessel for grief, memory, and healing.

Sam kindly shared a selection of his photographs, which echo the same gentle sadness and nostalgia found in his music, as well as some further reflections in our interview below. We chatted about the inspiration behind the album, his mother’s story, the role of fatherhood and how it changed his approach to making music, and how running and nature have played a part in his healing process.

Also, at the time of writing, we're currently doing a charity challenge to raise money for the Alzheimer's Society in honour of Gillian, Sam's mum. You can see the fundraising page and donate HERE

HT: This album is a deeply personal reflection on your mother’s journey with early-onset dementia. Could you share a sense of who your Mum was with the readers and then how this disease affected her? Can you share how music became a way for you to process and express this experience?

SD: My mother was a strong, kind, and incredibly caring woman who always put others before herself. She endured so much in her life—turbulence, heartache, and the devastating loss of her father to Parkinson’s—yet she remained resilient, always managing to stay afloat. She was truly courageous. Trying to describe how I feel about her illness is almost impossible. She declined so quickly that I barely had time to grasp what was happening. Now, I can’t have conversations with her, and she no longer knows who I am. Those rare moments when her eyes would light up with recognition have faded, and I’ve been left in a kind of emotional limbo. It’s too painful to see her this way, and as a result, I’ve distanced myself more than I’d like to admit. Thankfully, she’s well cared for by my father and her carers, and oddly, there’s some comfort in knowing that the pain seems to affect us more than her.

Music has always been my refuge. Since I was young, it’s been where I go to process, escape, and make sense of life. Growing up wasn’t easy, and music—along with my mother—was what kept me going. This album became a space where I could breathe, grieve, and try to make sense of it all. Even now, as I write this, I feel a huge sense of relief, as if a weight has been lifted.

HT: The album title Where Her Flowers Still Bloom is beautifully poetic. What does it symbolise for you, and how does it tie into the themes of memory and loss?

SD: My mother loved flowers, and though she didn’t receive them often, whenever she did, they lit up her face. Growing up, we had a small but beautiful garden filled with different kinds of flowers.

The album’s title is a metaphor for her dementia—a reflection of me wondering whether those flowers still bloom now that she’s no longer there to tend to them. Have they withered, like her memory? Or do they somehow carry on, untouched by time?

HT: You’ve shared some incredible images to accompany this blog. Could you talk us through them and any particular significance they have for you, and how they connect to the emotions or memories explored in your music?

SD: It’s interesting—I don’t have many photos from my childhood. My father threw them out years ago during one of his obsessive clean-ups, so most of my memories are caught somewhere between trauma and reality. In my photography, much like my music, I explore nostalgia, capturing fragments of moments long gone.

With these images, I wanted to evoke the feeling of loneliness while simultaneously reflecting carefree childhood memories—like flying a kite at the beach. I also included an image of Mither Tap at Bennachie, a place I’ve grown to love recently. It’s just a stone’s throw from my front door, and being in that natural space has been incredibly healing. Visiting places like this gives me a chance to pause, reflect, and connect with something deeper. This relationship between my photography and music has been an essential part of my journey toward healing.

HT: Something I can really relate to, much of your creative process involves balancing music with family life. Could you tell us a bit about how this works in practice? Did this approach shape the way this album was written, and did it help you stay connected to the memories and emotions you were capturing?

SD: Haha, yes! Becoming a father to my wonderful son, Lincoln, over the past three years has been an eye-opener and a complete game changer. Strangely, it’s been a blessing for my music. Before, I’d often sit in front of my instruments or DAW, endlessly procrastinating. But now, having less time has made me far more productive. Every moment is precious, so I work faster and more intentionally.

I often sneak in bits of music during short pockets of time—when it’s my wife’s turn to bathe Lincoln, or in those few minutes between work and daycare pickup. I build up loops, phrases, and textures over a few days, all within a similar theme, so that when I finally have a longer stretch of time, usually in the evening, I have a rich palette to pull from.

Some of the music on this album was even created with Lincoln sitting on my lap or playing nearby in the studio. He loves being in that space, listening and observing. Having him close during these moments has infused the music with an added layer of emotion—drawing me back to memories of childhood and innocence. He’s such a special gift in our lives, and I think his presence is deeply woven into this album.

HT: In the press release you speak a little about finding solace in nature and running. How have these aspects of your life influenced not only your music, but also your path towards healing and self-discovery?

SD: I can’t overstate how much running has changed my life. I was inspired by Austin Cairns (aka r beny) and his journey, and I started trail running about a year ago. I began with a Couch to 5K program—at first, I could barely run for a minute without gasping for breath. Now, I can run 10K in one go with a steady heart rate, and I’m the fittest I’ve ever been. I currently run about 30-40K a week, and it feels incredible.

Another blessing is where I live—seconds away from nature. Running through the wild has created a connection that’s hard to describe. It grounds me, giving me energy and a renewed zest for life, which I then pour back into my music. It’s strange—running connects me to nature and gives me physical relief, while music reconnects me to my emotions and allows me to process life in a cathartic way. I wouldn’t say I’m healed, but I know I’m on the right path. For the first time in a long while, I feel like I’m moving toward something that resembles peace.

'Where Her Flowers Still Bloom' is available in a limited run of 100 marble effect vinyl-effect CDr inside a record wallet sleeve, as well as a digital option in a range of high quality format options. You can take a listen to the album in full or buy a copy HERE!