Review Summary: Welcome back to the big top.
For experimental avant black metal act Pensées Nocturnes, left of field just comes easily you know? Combining all the tropes of a black metal world gone mad into a tendency to drip its French heritage into whatever enlightened visage that would need to be combined with rooster noises (probably that drunk cock on the album’s art), harmonica gimmicks and general vocal nonsense that Pensées Nocturnes musters. That’s why
Douce Fange is so great. It’s weird, it’s wacky, it’s that one clown advertising for the small circus tent at the fair “just 200 metres thataway - boink boink”. But even as we consider the band’s natural tendency to throw everything but the sink into their compositions we must also acknowledge the avant blackened jazz and folk
and the circus romp that bleeds an ever-evolving Pensées Nocturnes formula.
That’s because Pensées Nocturnes has a shtick and it doesn’t stink. No, it reeks. “Viens tâter d'mon Carrousel’s” introduction drips with cheese, pomp and celebration—before getting downright wacky and wonderful. Melodies dance over percussive chops and under vocal climes in a typical circus waltz. It’s familiar and completely unnerving at the same time; a concept that continues well into “Quel sale Bourreau”.
Douce Fange continues on its path of chaos, it’s climes a combination of whimsical meandering, raw-nostalgic melancholy and a clear-cut dosing of black metal. As we delve deeper into the album’s fifty minute run-time tracks like “Le Tango du Vieuloniste” lean further into the band’s classical roots, but Pensées Nocturnes becomes more twisted, virulent, [more] upbeat…glorious.
“Fin Défunt” continues the album’s quirks. Whimsical spoken words are laid out over a jigging rhythm. The melody runs fancy free, but there’s always room for shouted screams, pummeling double bass and twisted chanting. Play by play aside, there is a lot going on here. A statement made true from the record’s introduction until its final chaotic climax; revelry gone wild.
As you imagine (and the usual cop-out applies),
Douce Fange isn’t going to tick all the right boxes. However there’s something to be said for those weird and wacky fans (to which I apparently belong) who find quirk and cheese in genres known for more serious compositions. Still, Pensées Nocturnes’
Douce Fange pushes past the noise and the gimmick ensuring its value surpasses the fact that it’s “interesting”. This circus might be a buzz from curtain to curtain, you may even leave the tent asking yourself what the
fuck just happened. Just know you had a good time…and don’t step in the elephant paddies on the way out.
