Thirty years later, Impure Wilhelmina is still going strong.
In 2026, the Swiss band led by Michael Schindl (vocals/guitar), Mario Togni (drums), Sébastien Dutruel (bass), and Edouard Nicod (guitar) is celebrating its 30th anniversary and releasing its ninth album, Le Sanglot, on Season of Mist.
We are immediately immersed in the band’s ethereal world with Électricité noire, the opening track, which first unfolds its airy, dissonant tones before introducing melancholic French vocals. I, who am usually quite resistant to clean vocals in my native language, find a certain innocent charm in them here, softening even the heavy passages, just as on Cent mille plaies, which follows suit with intoxicating tones. The track is a bit shorter, but its intensity only subsides during the acoustic finale before giving way to Abîme, which weaves a darker, heavier atmosphere, whether in lyrics or riffs, which, though fairly light, pull us into that veil of gloom before finally igniting and growing noticeably heavier. The haunting finale gives way to Larmes de joie, a track that, as expected, has absolutely nothing joyful about it; on the contrary, it offers a kind of contagious nostalgia that will haunt us in no time, though we’ll also notice a hint of aggression, particularly in bass. Then the atmosphere calms down with Dévoreur d’étoiles, which takes its place and offers a rather intriguing intro. The track is quite long and takes a little while to really unleash its haunting tones in successive waves, finally leading into Train mor” which proves far more menacing and distressing, letting the distorted vocals weave their way through impressive riffs with Mütterlein. The pressure eases on Frelon ivre, and even though the atmosphere remains quite dark, you can still sense that the vocals have returned to a calmer state, to that captivating and contagious melancholy, before enjoying a burst of energy on Blanche réalité, the next track. Once again, we find ourselves caught between two forces: the first injecting Post-Metal’s heaviness, and the second aiming for a softer tone. Ultimately, however, it is the former that prevails over the central storm, occasionally allowing its rival to regain ground only to snatch it back again before leading into Demain j’abandonne, the next track that will calm everyone’s ardor. While the sound remains clear, it’s hard not to sense the poignant sense of resignation that’s evoked before moving on to À jamais radieuse, which returns to distortion and offers us one last dose of infectious musical sorrow that slowly and naturally makes us nod our heads along until the very end.
I remember the moment I discovered Impure Wilhelmina in a small Parisian basement, and I knew right then that her music would stay in the back of my mind for a while. Nine years have passed, but Le Sanglot has brought me back to that dark underground space, with riffs that are still hypnotic, and even though the approach is softer, it’s just as intense as ever.
85/100
