Heirloom: Where Blood and Bones Trade Velocity for Vulnerable Code

In a scene built on volume and velocity, Blood and Bones choose restraint. And that’s where Heirloom hits hardest.

Formed in Münster by Nico Ehlers, formerly of Decaying Days, the project has never been shy about confrontation. Their catalog spits fire at broken systems and political decay. Concrete. Static. Ash. But this time, the battle turns inward.

Heirloom unfolds like a late-night confession over warm beer and dead air. No grandstanding. No easy redemption arc. Just the slow realization that cycles—addiction, silence, inherited damage—repeat unless someone interrupts them. Alice “Luna” Smith, the band’s AI-born frontwoman, delivers a vocal performance that feels unsettlingly intimate. Machines aren’t supposed to tremble. Yet here, in the cracks, you hear it. Or maybe you project it. That’s the point.

On their upcoming release, War Within, the song "Heirloom" serves as the emotional support. Heirloom isn't as precise and cutting as the rest of the album's songs. It has a heartbeat. It leaves impressions where it lies.

Instead of asking for forgiveness, the narrator leaves behind music as an offering—a form of protection for future generations. It is neither redemption nor redemption; simply something real amongst the noise.

Blood & Bones have continuously pushed the boundaries between flesh and embed within the code; however, through their song Heirloom they prove another point: sometimes, heavy is no longer what we can carry. Sometimes heavy means having to bear our responsibilities.