Can we resist the temptation to listen to a band called Cthuluminati? No, of course not, even if our mental health is at rock bottom and exposure to such things could tip us over the edge into madness for good. Tentacula is the band's second album in ten years of existence, and like a city with impossible angles, like any unspeakable and unnameable creature that the mind cannot conceive, defining Cthuluminati in terms of genres is quite futile: Lovecraftian post-metal? Doom? Avant-garde? Black metal? Stoner? Psychedelic? It doesn't matter. Reality is obsolete, and the journey promises to be dreamlike and hallucinatory, just the way we like it.
There's plenty to get lost in right from the start with Cthrl: ten minutes of hallucinatory wandering introduced by a few recited words that set the narrative tone for the whole thing, cosmic layers, a few fierce forays into black metal, a rock'n'roll groove, theatrical grandiloquence... The listener finds themselves plunged into a whirlwind of creativity and strangeness, an irresistible ghost train whose acts follow one another at breakneck speed. It's only the first track, but it carries such chaos within it that it's also a synthesis of the pleasures to come.
The guitars screech in the darkness as doom heaviness evocative of things that have traversed the eons and the cosmos takes hold. Cthuluminati masterfully builds tension (the unsettling Abyssmal Quatrain, oozing with madness), offering an atmospheric pause halfway through the album with the feel of a tale sung by the fireside on a night when the stars have been devoured by darkness (Transformation) before plunging us back into the abyss of madness.
In its final section, Tentacula takes on a mystical and ritualistic dimension, which is always satisfying when you like to hood yourself and chant in your basement! The solemnity of The Illusion of Control, with its cultist choirs, followed by Mantra and its hieratic throat singing mixed with visceral growls and delirious vocals steeped in despair, draw us into a hypnotic incantation. It is both musically inspired and full of little gimmicks that allow the music to bring an immersive setting to life.
Perhaps that is ultimately what appeals to us most about Cthuluminati. It's not just about waving Lovecraft's banner to be cool, but rather about seeking ways in music to abolish reality and transcribe the strangeness and madness of the dimensions that the Providence author described in his writings, things that are at once monolithic, timeless, and scientifically impossible. In this respect, Cthuluminati succeeds in transgressing and surprising... but where the approach might seem pompous if it were only cerebral avant-garde, the band adds a large dose of pleasure. The musicians are ultimately as much actors as they are musicians, giving their music an obvious cinematic dimension. It is done with the utmost sincerity, respect, and seriousness... but also with a real dose of infectious fun, a passion for creation that oozes from the speakers or headphones and makes this Tentacula as exciting as it is endearing.
