I have been known to say that metal is (probably) the only area where I strongly believe that being French indicates quality. Black and post-black metal particularly, with Alcest, Regarde Les Hommes Tomber, Vous Autres, and Blut Aus Nord amongst my personal favorites. None of those acts really have anything in common with Abduction, though, besides the band members’ first language. Also not to be confused with the UK atmospheric black metal act of the same name, Abduction’s style strikes a balance between the frostiness of second-wave, the medieval melodic bent of Véhémence,1 and the wistful folkiness of Cân Bardd.2 Transforming again after the Joan of Arc concept piece Jehanne, the group turn their music to a broader spectrum of human philosophical issues, hoping to express emotions we can all relate to.
Toutes Blessent, la Dernière Tue (All Hurt, the Last One Kills) is characterized by an interplay of various mellow, melancholic, and melodramatic moments. With a more-or-less even split between harsh and clean vocals, and between fluttering, blastbeat-accompanied tremolo and delicate strumming, the album shifts back and forth between sadness and severity. On just about every song, charging, electric guitars and energetic percussion fades away for resonant, gentle notes, or vice-versa. Sometimes, the fake-out that results from that soft pause blurs individual tracks together, creating the sensation of moving, continuous tapestry of emotion, and quite effectively drawing the listener into its world. The hint in the repeating refrains towards the classical, folk, and medieval lends them a strongly nostalgic sound, making the whole thing feel familiar in a dreamlike way.
Abduction’s ability to wrap this warm atmosphere around the listener is exemplified by their tension-releasing melodic dynamism that tug at deep and forgotten feelings. The descending minor cascade that “Disparus de Leur Vivant” culminates in; the climbing duet of guitars and of screamed and sung vocals in “Dans La Galerie des Glaces”; the urgent electric refrain that develops through “Cent Ans Comptés.” These emotional surges are the result of powerful, well-layered melodies, and intelligently-composed passages. And the album’s tendency to reside in fragile clean plucks, washing over and over each other (title track, “Par les Sentiers Oubliés,” “Cent Ans Comptés”) brings poignancy in between impassioned screams and almost shouted singing. It’s this melodic, immersive strength that makes even four-plus-minute instrumental “Par les Sentiers Oubliés” deeply affecting, despite a lack of vocals. Toutes Blessent… simply contains a multitude of beautiful, thought-provoking moments, from the urgent (“Dans la Galerie…,” “Contre les Fers du Ciel”) to the slow and sorrowful (“Par les Sentiers Oubliés,” “Cent Ans Comptés”).
Yet frustratingly, when joined together, these beautiful moments don’t add up to something larger. They remain isolated amidst a surrounding sea of meandering mellowness, and with few exceptions are threatened to be lost. At just under an hour, Toutes Blessent…is too long for its contents to justify, songs being as they are a delicately shifting mélange with relatively little bite compared to their pensive expanses. The most dramatic (“Dans la Galerie…”) are hurt by returning to dull refrains, others simply by unnecessary length that drains the intensity out of admittedly stirring passages (“Disparus de Leur Vivant,” “Les Heures Impatientes”). Only “Cent Ans Comptés” manages to retain both its allure and its ferocity, while, perhaps surprisingly, interlude “Per les Sentiers Oubliés” strikes an emotional chord that lasts longer than any other on the album. The ending cover of Mylène Farmer’s “Allan” is at best confusing, as its upbeat sincerity feels out of place, despite its superficially similar coating of tremolo and warm group singing. By this point, all the emotional, melancholic refrains from before have all but dissipated from the listener’s mind.
I want to like Toutes Blessent… a lot more than I actually do. Its sweeping climaxes and quietly effective melodies are gorgeous, and the atmosphere at times irresistible. But untethered from one another, strung in between unmemorable and disappointingly bland melodic black, the album’s grip is too loose for those beautiful elements to stick, and possess the power they ought to. At its high points, something to sink into glorious daydreams to, but at its worst, something to doze into apathetic inattentiveness. The difference is important, and Abduction don’t find the right side of the line enough, this time anyway.
Rating: Mixed
DR: 14 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Frozen Records/Finisterian Dead End Records
Websites: abduction.fr | abductionfr.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/abduction.fr
Releases Worldwide: December 1st, 2023
