With Statistic Ego, released in 2021, FauxX plunged us into a nightmarish universe, a sonic magma dominated by machines where influences agglomerated. Darksynth, cyberpunk, industrial... given the heaviness of the sound and the bite of the textures, we'll opt for the label ‘industrial metal’, despite the absence of guitars. Regardless, labels don't stick to corroded metal, but there was definitely a hint of ‘Skinny Puppy on steroids’ in this taste for experimentation. For their second album, the duo composed of Joachim Blanchet (who works in a very different register within the rock band Hoa Queen but also launched his industrial side project Cephalon 313 earlier this year) and Job (Tagada Jones) announced that they wanted something more in-your-face. Well, it's up to us to receive it then!
Indeed, at first glance, FauxX seems to have abandoned the tortuous paths of its first album on Hyperwar, a martial introduction that feels like a steamroller, with its relentless rhythm and chanted chorus. There are vague echoes of bass music (sometimes reminiscent of Antania, but much richer) as well as a punkish nastiness. However, this more direct approach does not mean that FauxX has become impoverished or lazy. On the contrary, we quickly rediscover their taste for breaks, atmospheres that smell of lead and tetanus, layers whose deep grey is tinged only with rust, and samples that add a psychedelic touch to an ensemble whose intensity is already apocalyptic.
Anteroom does indeed have an end-of-the-world feel to it. Pessimistic and even nihilistic, its aggression is tinged with a certain mysticism: Sun of Despair, Burnt Velvet Retinas and Demiurge Date, for example, slow down the pace and come across as sombre revelations, cryptic cyberpunk rituals haunted by a few contemplative moments that are as surprising as they are striking. The atmospheres have a dramatic power, a cinematic touch that conjures up images of ruin between two beatings. While industrial music is often associated with coldness, FauxX disrupts binary structures with his drumming: sure, it pounds as it should, but there's also an explosiveness, a liveliness, something that breaks free from the mechanical formula to breathe energy into it. FauxX growls, FauxX pounds relentlessly, FauxX hypnotises (Latch On, surprisingly theatrical and poignant in the end, between threat and melancholy).
Above all, the group delivers its vision of industrial metal, free from preconceived notions: far from the somewhat caricatured idea that the genre is limited to simplistic beats grafted onto equally simplistic riffs, the duo experiments and explores. Not all of the sounds used are intended to be musical. The music is not there to make you dance or to be pleasant. Yet FauxX is not without its effectiveness: tracks like Dig or The Revealer, featuring Diego Jansonfrom Karras, can leave you with a sore neck. In this apocalyptic climate, New Model Army's cover of Here Comes the War takes on its full meaning: the apathy, indifference and even complacency of the population will lead us once again to the horrors of armed conflict. It's a cycle, annihilation is imminent, and Anteroom reminds us of this over the course of fifty minutes that feel like drinking a bottle of vitriol. No, this album is not here to comfort us: we get what we deserve.
