Mildreda’s debut album, Coward Philosophy, is only ten years old, but the project’s roots go back to the 1990s, when a very young Jan Dewulf began experimenting with his synthesisers whilst listening to acts such as The Klinik, Calva Y Nada and Suicide Commando. It is amusing and almost touching to see how this is reflected today in Realities, a substantial double album whose exploration – in both content and form – seems a logical continuation of the preceding remarks, or at any rate a ‘version of reality’ that stems from them. ‘Philosophy’ remains at the core of a work which, having explored Sartre on the previous Blue-Devilled, now turns to Camus to comment on the absurdity of our existence. The result is a fusion of that enthusiastic young Dewulf, tinkering away on his own, and the current, more mature artist, capable of a new sense of perspective and emotional honesty.
What immediately captivates us is the skill with which Mildreda blends emotions with the harshness of electronic music, spanning dark electro, industrial and EBM (it brings to mind the Canadian band Frontline Assembly, but also Skinny Puppy, particularly those synths layers that lend an otherworldly and melancholic touch). Take End of the Line, at the start of the journey (beginning with the end – that in itself already introduces the idea of a cycle): it’s cold, harsh and mechanical, yet also haunted by a bittersweet nostalgia born of regrets and hopes, whilst the myth of Sisyphus serves as a backdrop for comparing life to a meaningless quest, where everything is nothing but futile repetitions until the final collapse.
This is where the true dynamism of Realities lies: in this constant balance between humanity and machines, but also in the subtlety of the approach. Mildreda has the wisdom to take a step back and not simply resort to sonic assaults laden with hatred or anger: the experience is human, and Jan Dewulf reveals himself as never before, setting aside mystical gimmicks to focus on sincerity and authenticity, and replacing the slogans usually associated with the genre with personal lyrics. The realities evoked are those we construct in the wake of our failures, falling and rising up ourselves up again to keep pushing our boulder… It’s refreshing to see Mildreda avoid several easy pitfalls, whether in terms of form – by not seeking an in-your-face intensity at every turn, but instead taking the time to flesh out his music and free it from comfortable, predictable danceable and aggressive formulas – or in terms of content (for example, when addressing social media in Virtual Goddess, featuring Suicide Commando, Dewulf doesn’t succumb to hypocritical contempt, fully aware of being himself a player in this farce).
It doesn't mean you won’t wiggle (Faded or Silk Skin, for example, are certainly not lacking in intensity). But it’s a pleasant surprise to see Mildreda becoming more ambitious, stranger, more unsettling, and embracing more noise- and industrial-inspired elements. This ambition is evident right from the structure of the double album, interspersed with Reality Checks that act as a binding element – contemplative or anxious moments of respite that we savour as proper standalone tracks in their own right, yet whose presence strengthens the cohesion of the whole and makes it easier to immerse ourselves in the music.
At its best, Realities strikes a perfect balance between a kind of ethereal poetic grace and the biting harshness of industrial music, the contrast between the two creating some truly beautiful landscapes (Damage Done, the astonishing Reality Check (Lonely Waters), whose piano and roaring guitars seem to have escaped from Nine Inch Nails’ The Fragile – another double album, well, well – or the heavy atmosphere of Clair Obscur and, once again, echoes strongly reminiscent of Reznor). We also relish the most radically noisy and vicious passages, such as the frenzied Ruckwärts, where that madman Constantin “Breñal” Warter (Calva Y Nava) comes in to bellow in a terrifying manner, or the oppressive Reality Check (Lost in Bavaria). All this culminates in a finale soberly titled Reality, where all realities seem to converge for a furious, pessimistic conclusion with pre-apocalyptic overtones – perhaps the summit from which Sisyphus’s boulder might tumble down, yet again.
Admittedly, Realities is a dense and lengthy album, demanding total immersion and attention from the listener – indeed, several listens may be required to appreciate its tortuous labyrinths. Mildreda, however, rewards our attention with a rich and abundant work that combines introspection, experimentation and listening pleasure. It’s just the right amount of quirky to have some lovely rough edges, yet also sufficiently appealing to listen to without adopting a snobbish attitude like ‘you can’t understand it unless you’ve read all of Camus in German and appreciate the sound your crockery makes in your washing machine’, striking a balance between modernity and the classics (Mildreda could easily be placed alongside Fïx8:Sëd8 and 2nd Face, for example). It brings to mind that young Dewulf tinkering away on his own: today, he’s still tinkering, but he does so with a naturally more mature perspective on his life… and he’s tinkering with his old influences, Suicide Commando and Calva Y Nada! Not bad as a version of reality!
