Pensées Nocturnes, the most putrid French orchestra, is back with a new album in 2022.
Entitled Douce Fange, it is the seventh mischief made by Léon Harcore (vocals/instruments, Valhôll, ex-Way to End) on the label Les Acteurs De L’Ombre Productions. The boss is accompanied on stage by Jéjé (accordion/keyboards/decapitated voices), Zacques (guitar), Roro (guitar), Le Grand (bass) and Jacky (pots and pans).
We begin with the decadence of Viens Tâter d’mon Carrousel, which melts a sample of a documentary with a dissonance of brass and percussions, then the troupe slowly begins to walk with a very progressive rhythmic. Vocals finally join the joyful and worrying band, wearing some aggressive saturation before warning us, and before Quel Sale Bourreau assaults us. Between blackness and decay, the abrasive and raw sound is spreaded before offering a worrying break, melting melancholy and dirty energy, while screams haunt those chaotic but skilfully built riffs. The hooking contrast continues with the cheerful PN Mais Costaud, an energetic and jerky composition which is built around a collective madness and a solid blast. But unsurprisingly, the Folk instruments will regularly break this rhythm part and unveil those as diverse as strange influences, then aggressiveness surfaces again before letting backing vocals drive us to Saignant et à Poings, a song which melts the rural basis with disturbing tones. Clean vocals are regularly replaced by Black Metal’s characteristic howlings, and dissonance continues between violence and unhealthy softness, before Charmant Charnier comes to offer a nearly majestic “rest”. As you might have understood, this short interlude is not this far from the band’s universe, just like Le Tango du Vieuloniste which combines fast riffs and putrid sonorities, sometimes unveiling heady sonorities. Classical influences are covered by this layer of burning dirt, then the final joyfully rides us to Fin Defun, another gloomy compendium on which the band melts Old School Black Metal elements with its rotten recipe. The sound progressively turns into some catchy concerto which still let a cadaveric sound be reflected, before La Semaine Sanglante comes to unveil a greasy sound. This obvious tribute to the historic event with the same name offers as technical as chaotic riffs, and as opposed as complementary influences, then the album ends over Gnole, Torgnoles et Roubignoles, an as delicate track as its name implies. Voices team up to create a choir, witnessing of some disordered organisation, while the rhythmic relentlessly strafes us until the final punch.
If you think you know chaos, let Pensées Nocturnes teach you that you do not. With Douce Fange, the rural and putrid orchestra comes back to life to puke chaos, blackness and dissonant melodies with an as unhealthy as meticulous organisation. The album is clearly not for everyone, but it will be a perfect companion for your cheap wine.