Created on a 4-track Tascam cassette machine, the Epiphany album is the "Ulysses" of synthpop.

Here's the story:
. . . Under a darkening sky the young man gathered his things for the journey. Sensing that he would not find himself in this place again, he drew a long breath and let the smell of the air etch a bittersweet memory. Looking down the gentle decline of the hill toward the river, he absorbed the scene for later reflection -- a psychic touchstone from a closing chapter. Now he was man enough, and the time had come to shake off the ghosts.
Pealing thunder announced the departure of a horse and its man from that spot by the riverbank. He turned up the collar of his faded coat and squinted hard at the long plain ahead of him. Thin tears slid along his tan cheeks as he rode away.
The man of faith is often the one who sees more clearly the gaps in his beliefs; so it was for this young man, searching for his soul's drug under the October sky. Questioning heaven, he wondered about the value of his experience. Did it hold all that it should for a man of twenty-seven summers? The answer, of course, was that it must.
In matters of the heart, where all that matters ultimately dwells, the stars had thus far obstructed his path. He had been allowed to wander down the lane, but only to the edge of the garden. The hour was now at hand, though, when he would rise up from the miry clay of his regrets and do that which he should have done long ago. The tears that he couldn't stop before would cease to flow, the urn into which they poured would finally dry up, and the world around him would declare, "Behold the man."
Crossing the range that night under the falling stars, the young man felt a certain peace in his solitude, a strengthening of the spirit gained by befriending the demons that surrounded his fire and by surmounting the hatred that lay as thickets in his path. After all that he had been through he could now clearly see the road ahead, and when the red lights of the new dawn danced gently upon the unfolding horizon, he was indeed ready to shoulder the sky. . . .

Jordan is the J.R.R. Tolkien of synthpop. In fact, they might require a third “R.”
The international duo--Marcos Sueiro of Spain and Nicholas Markos of the USA--create epic synthpop. The duo was way ahead of its time, starting this band in the guitar-rock doldrums of the middle 90s. They wanted to bring back the drama and epic sounds that had inspired them in their youth.
The idea was crystallized while the two were on tour in the American West. In Utah's Confusion Range, “I stood upon that hilltop, my ten-thousand filaments stretched out across the ether, and suddenly I was in touch with the really real,” says Markos.
Sueiro adds, "Release yourself."