It’s said that the only two certainties in life are death and taxes, but thanks to the anonymous Parisian duo of Void & Moon, we might soon want to add a third item. Abandonne (Self-Released), the duo’s second album as Hiverlucide, continues the pair’s run (whether as Hiverlucide, Non Serviam or Biollante) of having a new release every few months that’ll defy whatever expectations you might have.
Certainly (and quite logically) of all the pair have produced, Abandonne is closest in sound to their previous Hiverlucide release, Satan, Death, Whale. On that record, the mission statement was “mesmerizing through whale chants”. Opener “Souffre qu’à mes transports je m’abandonne en proie” (something to do with suffering, taken from French dramatist Jean-Baptiste Racine) certainly creates a mesmeric atmosphere with its ever-so-slowly building terrain of synths and shimmering textures.
Whether due to their previous allusion to whales, or the near-thirty-minute run time (half the album’s length), Pink Floyd‘s “Echoes” repeatedly comes to mind, though the track (and album in general) are largely without melody. It’s more about mood, tone, and textures. Reportedly a recorded improvisation in a forest, the track’s origins make perfect sense for such a paganistic-sounding meditation.
Having such a long, almost ambient track to open turns out to be ingenious. “Le Dégoût” (Disgust) introduces a whole new mood with an ominous speech from what sounds like a military “dad”, counterposed with another, murmured voice, on top of shifting drones. These drones become infused with noise and distortion as the track progresses, becoming more and more intense.
On “Le Mépris” (Contempt) noise becomes a more prominent feature, alongside all sorts of peculiar sounds that bring to mind Coil in places. A certain hypnotic pulse runs through the track, which at times bursts into passages of distortion, fuzz and whirs. Jazz noise? There’s a sense of being in the control room of a submarine as it dives into uncharted waters.
The evolution (and increasing pressure) continues with “L’Aberration de la lumière” where the vocals become the focal point. A howling wind of distortion and other fainter voices swirl together. Track by track it feels as though the listener is descending deeper somehow, darker tones, greater pressure, growing intensity.
“Comme un Temple nouveau ses rameaux s’épandront” brings the album back around to a more ambient feel, but now deep below the surface of the earth, with muffled, yawning, cavernous rumblings of drawn out notes — an ominous, low-key end to the album.
Abandonne is less music than it is sonic art. At their noisiest, the duo brings to mind Whitehouse, deploying all sorts of dissonance, atonality, and walls of sound to bombard the listener in a way that demands some kind of emotional response. The contrast of the album’s frequent more minimal, ambient passages make for a rich, varied listening experience (even with such an intentionally limited amount of melody).
This isn’t a record to casually have on in the background, it’s an experience to give yourself to. There are no easy signposts telling you what to feel. Abandonne is an album of unanswered questions and a fascinating journey to be taken on.
Buy the album here:
https://non-serviam.bandcamp.com/album/abandonne-album
9 / 10
TOM OSMAN