Worhs is Willow’s creation: a cathartic diary featuring hybrid musical tones, initially black metal and later more industrial, with occasional touches of post-punk or folk, in which she sings in French, and which first came to light with Le Temps des Blasphèmes, released in 2014. During the recording of Ballerine Sourde, released in 2018, she was joined by Nijmaa, who initially worked as a session drummer but has since found his place in the project by adding his own personal touch to the new compositions. Over the years, Worhs has become an unmissable and unclassifiable musical force, in which her consistently talented songwriting style is underpinned by a deeply personal and painful narrative.
Que La Paix Soit Sur Les Suicidaires follow-up to La Grande Poisseuse (released in 2024). Speaking about these two tracks, which have a combined running time of around twenty-five minutes, the artist explains that they came about spontaneously and were recorded in one go.
Twenty-five minutes may seem short. Yet here, they are enough to leave a lasting impact on the listener. The lyrics are the first to hit us, as is often the case with Worhs, a distillation of raw unease conveyed with unfiltered sincerity. This is where Willow’s talent lies: the beauty in the immediacy of writing that doesn’t romanticise suffering, but brings it to life, raw and violent. As you listen to Je M’en Vais and Lassée De Toi, your mind won’t wander. It will be captivated, your heart broken by the story being told here (we’re a long way from the usual verse-chorus structure, but firmly within the expression of a tragedy). You’ll be hanging on every word, overwhelmed by these breath-taking confessions: an obsession with death that buries as much as it brings to life, the realisation of a dysfunctional society in which a peaceful search for identity is impossible, several gaping wounds that won’t heal, but also a declaration of love, and the birth of a hope hidden behind this anger tinged with infinite sadness, perhaps.
On vocals, Willow’s powerful, at times imploring yet always lucid voice is carried by a colossal mass of heavy, noisy sounds. The synths are menacing, often dissonant, and seem to devour us. The whole takes on the air of an industrial cabaret in which haunted notes dance precariously before crashing down, sick; notes to which the artist, like a tightrope walker on a wire in the opera of her soul, tries to cling on with all her might so as not to fall. The composition, of incredible richness, is surely Worhs’ best to date. Que La Paix Soit Sur Les Suicidaires is one of those works which, though one hardly dares say so given how personal and embodied it is, casts a shadow over this world whilst making it more beautiful. Because from terrible suffering can arise a sublime masterpiece, as mangled as it is visceral; here is one such work. We hope to have the chance to hear it live, as we know it will be an unforgettable experience.
