Enfer Boreal - The Way of the Masks (Tape Drift CD-R)

Alright, I've been waiting to get around to these for too long now but I finally have a minute (nay, a summer!) to cover all the stuff I've been unable to because of this senior project. Well, it's done, meaning that I'm officially done with school (at last...) and can focus on little more than tunage until the start of next year, when the tables are turned and the student becomes the teacher. Weird...

Figured I'd start the Tape Drift batch with this one from Enfer Boreal, whose stuff I suddenly received a ton of in a super short period of time. Not that I'm complaining. Primault's stuff is totally great and each time out he seems to make a point of not rehashing the same tricks. Perfect example can be found here, as the last review I did of his work was the ultra stark 3" on Centre of Wood. This time out though, Primault gets way fuller and more zoned in no time, as "Le Tomebeau Hindou" starts things out with a quick jaunt through guitar delay drone before slipping into a realm of fritzing electronic harshities and head-knodding undulations. Far more overtly zonked than most of his material, with little of the dreamy vibe I usually associate with his output. Instead this is just 20-minutes of fried and dried fever sleep, albeit with a distinct sense of pace and construction. No matter the sounds used, the approach remains constant, and Boreal's works always have a logical progression throughout, no matter how hellish the vibes may be. Still though, this a pretty thick bath of static wash that serves to cleanse the palette for the white, electrical line hum that catalyzes some expansive excursions later in the track before it once more evaporates into vapor toward the end.

Combined, the other four tracks barely eclipse the length of the first one, which is fine considering the vast reach of the initial blast. "Les Morts Dansaient Avec Nous," the shortest one, is a deep sink hole of goner zones, with bomb threat sirens riding overhead beneath apocalyptic synth moves beneath. Not exactly the pat on the back you expected after the first track, but then again neither is "Le Dixieme Ciel," whose submerged guitar wrangling and vocal barbarism mix with some rusty swingsets to create an eerie vibe made more so by the presence of a fragile beauty just underneath the torment. The closing "Zero Infini" only serves to seal the deal, exploring more of the same bleak streaks of odd metallic grind above tinkling, barely-there high end. The cave dripping circuitry of its mid-section gently moves it toward the delayed guitar work that closes the album, thankfully, on a sunnier side of sorrow. Unexpectedly dark form for this project, and thus further proof that Primault's the real deal. This kind of range means that Primault's always one to watch. Another winner as always from Eric's Tape Drift!