It took Sierra Veins six years to release her first album, giving the artist time to gain experience and make a name for herself, figure out where she wanted to go, and already evolve significantly. Since A Story of Anger two years ago, everything seems to have accelerated: an EP of remixes and a string of concert dates, attracting a diverse audience of electronic music fans, metalheras and goths... and now a second album. While In the Name of Blood may not be as surprising as its predecessor, which allowed us to rediscover Sierra Veins' work by incorporating vocals, it is nevertheless accompanied by Annelise Morel's questioning of herself.
The quest for identity seems to be at the heart of her work, a theme hinted at by her name change from SIERRA to Sierra Veins. Veins, blood, our DNA and what defines us serve as the foundation for these nine new tracks, which are full of tension, melancholy and rage, and whose influences, as usual, are wide-ranging (darksynth, EBSM, techno, cyberpunk, etc.). Yet very quickly, something strikes us: while Sierra Veins may have questioned her identity, her music seems more assertive than ever. The eponymous intro is enough to prove it: crushing mid-tempo, a few spoken words, spectres of violins lamenting in the mist and bass lines that crush us... she doesn't hold back. We knew her taste for ultra-catchy formulas enriched with unexpected ideas, and we're delighted to find them here.
There is one detail that cannot be ignored. On her first album, Sierra Veins called on Carpenter Brut and HEALTH, among others, ‘bosses’ who seemed to give her their seal of approval. This time around, she no longer needs sponsorship: she has become the boss. The only collaboration here is with Ghost Dance on Memory Cells, which blends softness and visceral intensity. The atmosphere is dark, the music feverish. ‘Who am I gonna be?’ she asks us. We want to tell her ‘whoever you want’, but something tells us she already is.
It is quite touching to listen to In the Name of Blood from this perspective and appreciate how intimate doubts infuse the album's lyrics, giving it its soul, but also how the tracks are a constant demonstration of creativity from an artist at the height of her powers. Who I Used to Be, angry and with enjoyable aggrotech undertones, raises the tone. We appreciate the sudden breaks, the heaviness, the rage to live that oozes from its last part, possessed by a desperate energy. Sierra Veins bleeds for her music, it's hard-hitting but with a form of poetry, a very personal touch.
The spectres break free from the machine and envelop us in their cold melancholy. With tracks such as The One, The End of Time and its piano that seems to emerge from futuristic ruins, an anachronistic ghost, or the excellent instrumental piece (the only one on the album) It Was Written, Sierra Veins confirms her talent for bringing to life cyberpunk worlds made of night, neon, rain and loneliness in the crowd. It is cinematic and theatrical, dense and evocative.
In their pauses and accelerations, in their layers that build upon one another, the tracks on In the Name of Blood echo this quest for identity. But Sierra Veins is no longer fumbling around; she is shouting with confidence. Towards the middle of the album, Ain't No Woman impresses with its chanted lyrics, its threat that gradually explodes, and an apparent quest for compassion that ultimately turns into an affirmation of self, of her dark side. Embracing her scars, her differences, and turning them into her strength: Sierra Veins is unique, and we freaks are delighted to see her assert herself with such power. There's plenty to sweat over, but In the Name of Blood isn't just a succession of irresistible tracks, it's also a banner to rally under, to embrace our identities, our wounds, and in turn turn them into something strong. To put it less pompously: Sierra Veins rocks. The previous album was still on repeat, but we'll make room for the new kid on the block!
