With over two decades of misery behind them there are no expectations that Parisians Mourning Dawn will have found their happy place on album number six. They may have found some euphoria on the last one several years ago but it was more likely a false bipolar high before an inevitable crash back to the bleakness of normality. Here we have a slightly shorter album than that wretched tome but it is just as desperate and nihilistic as we enter a period of “falling time” as reflected on mammoth opener ‘Tomber du temps’. Blackened doom paints a noir-etched canvas here and one thing that is quite noticeable on first airing is that there are many passages throughout the songs of spoken word parts to accompany vocalist Laurent’s anguished roars. This makes things all the more atmospheric as well as mysterious due to the fact their oration is in French. At least we get a clue to these in part on penultimate number ‘Suzerain’ which leads us to a poem by René Char which you can easily track down online.
The musicians weave a tapestry of hopelessness around it all. Long ponderous and meandering guitar parts weep around slow and solemn melodies. It’s all fantastically textured and there are some surprises such as a saxophone snaking around the aforementioned first stab of the blade. It gives a vision of a bohemian writer sitting starving in a dark bedsit writing prose and battling with their inner turmoil. In life they will be ignored, after premature death and isolationist existence they will perhaps be noted and praised but there will be no Springtime in Paris for them. From here main lyrics move to English so as far as I am concerned I can soak them up as they fragrantly foam and ‘Blue Pain’ allows me to “drown” in their “regrets.” There’s guest vocals on this one courtesy of Déhà who also mixed and mastered the album as if he hasn’t got enough to keep him occupied with his never-ending list of bands and projects.
Attention is drawn to more spoken parts and a knock on block of wood effect on ‘Borrowed Skin.’ There are some more violent parts on this along with an air of dismal pessimism on the slower refrains. Running at over 11-minutes it has no problem delivering both moods and the depressive nature of both facets are starkly profound. At times I am reminded of Italian counterpoints in ruination here Forgotten Tomb. Put these two bands on tour together, hand out razorblades and see who’s still standing at the end. The anxiety hits hard at ‘Apex’ and there is a rancorous vibe seething through the song suggesting that rage has now been manifested both vocally and due to the incessant gnarly guitar chug. Speaking of which a bit of a dub laden industrialised backbone bristles around things on the latter parts of the album. Both ‘Suzerain’ and closing number ‘Midnight Sun’ for example have a beat reminiscent of Godflesh about them and the album is rich in things to fixate on for those prepared to give it their all, rather than just a casual observance. Complete with a sense of beauty and fragility on ‘The Colour Of Waves’ sandwiched between these two numbers, all emotions have veritably been hit on this musical descent. Like cold foam of a flood, this one will drown you in its depths.
(8/10 Pete Woods)
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