The sun of California replaces the oldSwiss castle: this is where the Our Frankenstein monster was brought to life in 2013. A few singles, a first album in 2020, a second in 2022, and the creature returns to haunt us with its blend of industrial metal, gothic influences and horrific references. With Magnum Spire Hotel, however, there's a discrete change in presentation, as the flashy, slightly funny colours have disappeared and the artwork shows us an imposing building, a sort of cross between DisneyWorld's Tower of Terror and Haunted Mansion. The band warn us that we're trapped in a hotel lost in space and time, with each floor plunging us into new levels of depravity, right up to the grand ball on the top floor where we're the guest of honour. Let's hope the lift works, because we can't wait to get there!
A narrative concept must be reflected in the sound. Magnum Spire Hotel doesn't neglect its transitions for the sake of immersion and the menacing, spooky intro to Arrival does the job very well, right up until its radical change of tone, which already smacks of a glitzy reception concealing its horrors behind every door (especially that of Room 237, but you already know that). Things get off to a pretty good start, with a groove, a few meaner screams and some inviting promises - the title track gives you a sense that this party has potential. We go into it naively imagining that we'll have the most fun when Our Frankenstein is at their heaviest and nastiest, with the presence of Nero Bellum (Psyclon Nine) on writing and production making us salivate in anticipation of sinister outrages.
Our Frankenstein takes on a theatrical feel, somewhere between recent Mushroomhead albums and the raucous, dirty industrial rock of the 90s (Serf's vocals are reminiscent of the Mansonian croaks of the early 90s). We then wander through the floors of this hotel like we're watching the different acts of a cabaret or a twisted freak show, each track offering something different: the post-punk spectres that haunt Judas Dance, the angrier industrial metal of Kerosene (contrary to our initial prejudices, not our favourite part of the album) and the more atmospheric moments.
Against our expectations, Magnum Spire Hotel is not an album of noisy, fun-loving ‘guilty pleasures’. We quickly find ourselves more seduced by its more gloomy atmospheres: The Burden, Curtain Call, Inferno... These tracks are full of horrific gimmicks (creepy whispers, hissing ‘ssss’ reminiscent of Nero Bellum, music boxes, oppressive ambience, funereal acoustic guitar and big, crushing riffs...) and the result is as satisfying as it is disturbing. In this respect, the finale, that ‘grand ball on the top floor’ we were told about at the reception, Grace, is more of a bitter, melancholy funeral march, haunted by grey, cold synth strings. It's as successful as it is unexpected, and leaves us with a double satisfaction: not only has Our Frankenstein satisfied our cravings for spectacle and attractions, but it has injected a good dose of darkness that will continue to accompany us after the journey. Well done!
