“Well, it’s been… a year? Seriously…? Wtf? It’s only been a fucking year since Vous Autres’ Champ du Sang landed in the cold, dark corner of my existence? I go back to that debut record like it was a genre-defying piece! A record washed away and only now rescued the forgotten past. Maybe it’s the fact that it feels aged yet relevant. Or because it has an energy and spontaneity of a band not held back by anyone or anything. A band that put it all out there, regardless of the consequences. A band that… OK, so that might be a bit dramatic. But, Champ du Sang is a fantastic record and one that still gets much praise from Madam X and myself to this day. So, when the French duo treaded through a cemetery of thick, black mud—its headstones, broken from the bright, industrial cracks of lightning—to hand-deliver Sel de Pierre into my cold hands, I… wept.” Gods of pain.
