Brice Delourmel and Berne Evol know how to get sad people dancing: for over ten years, they have been playing together in the noise-rock/post-punk/industrial trio Dead., whose latest album dates back to 2024. So is there any reason to fear a repeat performance with Years of Shame, a new project with a more cold wave orientation? Rest assured, the two projects have very distinct identities: the pitch here is ‘to lay Robert Smith-style vocals over The Soft Moon-style instrumentals’. A statement of intent that both fires up our hopes and sends a chill down our spines: this promises to be both feverish and filled with cold greyness!
From Faces onwards, we really appreciate this underlying tension, the post-punk echo of the strings that haunt the backdrop and vocals that are more expressive than in Dead., even expressionistic in their conveyance of melancholy. The references are there, obvious, but so is the DNA specific to the two musicians (particularly in its synthwave touches, Brice Delourmel also being active with his Giirls project) . The aggression and angry noise bursts of Dead. are left behind (although here and there, as with Trust or Lights, there are a few remnants that add some welcome depth), but let's stop the comparisons there: Primary begins like something that feels like an inevitable defeat, abandonment, a funeral, or a November rain that falls on us when we have no umbrella and no choice but to stay underneath it, alone and soaked.
Melancholy, yes, but a pulsating one. Heat gets you moving, Violence fascinates with its mysterious dark synth layers. In both tracks, the bass comes straight from Manchester (after all, Years of Shame is partly from Rennes, and Brittany is a bit like France's Manchester). There is introspection, regret, but also nervousness: you'll stare blankly into the void of your meaningless existence, but you'll still find yourself swaying. Primary flies by. The tracks are effective, without artificial mannerisms, and made with sincerity. To mention some current examples, it brings to mind the depression of HEALTH, the complaints of SURE., and the contrasts and heightened theatricality of JE T'AIME.
Years of Shame finds grace in renunciation, an energy of despair that infuses the entire album, but whose bittersweetness is constantly shaken by more industrial pulsations. Will things get better for them after this great sorrow? Well, leaving us with the agonising Terror, as hypnotic as it is furious, the answer seems obvious: no. Too bad for them, good for us: their torments are a pleasure for our ears!
