Review by Jeger on September 15, 2024.

A silhouette - a meaningless form to de-substance what is human into but a shadow - much like our very worthless existences as we despairingly search the darkness for something to grasp onto, something to believe in, something pure. Where can we find such an abundance? Within the hallowed and nourishing soil of the French black metal underground where one can discover profoundness in poetry along with elegance in music not akin to anything ever experienced in Scandinavia, Greece, or anywhere else for that matter. Home to the City of Lights, a celebrated culture of art and a language that’s as soft as cotton, so, the black metal that comes from out of La Métropole is naturally cut from the same artistic tapestry. 

France’s Silhouette - a meaningful artistic endeavor founded during the pre-rapturous days of 2019 - atmospheric/depressive black metal with a post touch and created much in the vein of Germany’s Harakiri For The Sky. It’s as if Silhouette could hardly care less about sounding like a second-wave Norwegian black metal band, and that refreshing notion is evidenced by the majesty of their 2022 Les Retranchement EP, and the divinity of their forthcoming LP, Les Dires De L’Ame which will be unveiled on October 20, 2024 via Antiq.

Like floating away… Set adrift on memory bliss of better days when your time meant so much more than money and the organic joys of life were low-hanging fruit, ripe for the plucking. The haunting opening track, 'L’Appel', like soaking rains upon your scabbed psyche and nourishing its ugliness into something supple if only for three minutes - nothing here to even signify the Black Mark - just longing like you’ve never known before, longing as you would to take away your child’s suffering or to have that one day back. Angelic cleans and sharp acoustics to set the tone for what sounds like a calling from somewhere within, your soul speaking to you and the message can only be heard through the stethoscope of bitter remembrance. 'Silhouette' - an essence of pain captured and set loose in the form of agonized cries from out of vocalist, Yharnam, like someone burning alive or in a state of ultimate despair and in direct opposition to those lulling cleans that drift with misty ease from out of clean vocalist Ondine. Their interplay is like dancing and their contrasting energies are like night and day. The binding element to it all? Beauty… 

You do get to the point where that above-mentioned beauty begins to hold little value, and that’s is simply due to the fact that few people can listen to a guy scream at the top of his lungs like he’s just been shot in the nuts with buckshot for so long. A little texture, man, it’s not THAT bad is it? Oh look, you’ve gone and ruined this album along with what was a pretty fancy album review. Thankfully, there are parts when this dude is able to stifle his screams for a few moments in order to allow for the melody and the other vocalist to work on you. Throw a few growls and maybe some chants in there to mix it up a bit, because no one suffers this much unless they’re in some kind of fucked up Hostel situation that happened to transpire the day after their whole family died in a house fire. Sentenced to this experience for the duration… 

Pretentious to the max and devoid of the types of fundamental elements that make for music you actually want to listen to. This symphony of unnerving soundscapes will drag you through bewildering quagmires along the verge of where insanity and sedation are joined. A should-be recipe for great black metal, but instead we have this - a bipolar recording where the highs are skyscraper level and the lows dredge the sludge of those aforementioned mires without much in between. I think I’ll repress this experience like I do with past traumas and move on with my life…

Rating: 5 out of 10