LA CHUTE

The enigmatic duo of Geoffroy Vincens and Jacques Malinvard recorded an austere trilogy of albums between 2004 and 2008, each one available for complimentary download from their web site, and all three close to identical in technique and presentation. So it only makes sense to follow their good example by providing three likewise matching reviews: read any one at random, and you'll get the gist of all three albums.

The hermetic style of the trilogy is an acquired taste (to say the least), even to ears drawn by habit toward challenging music. On paper it doesn't look to be so difficult: the instrumentation is disarmingly basic (acoustic guitar, modest bass lines, the occasional cello and/or tambourine, some monophonic vocals). And the compositions are even simpler, at times resembling the liturgical plainsong heard in some cloistered medieval abbey.

But these guys approach the art of making music like penitent monks wearing hairshirts, with every limited chord change punishable by self-excoriation. Heard individually, each song has its own spellbinding charm and mystery. But listening to an entire album (or all three together: not recommended!) can be a heavy cross to bear (borrowing a thematic image from the music itself).

I have to admire the band's uncompromising aesthetics. Another, astute Prog Collaborator here compared their style to Post Rock, which makes a lot of sense: the music is almost radical in its minimalism. The most recent album in the sequence, "Triptyque" (actually the second in the narrative trilogy) is probably the most accomplished and varied, but these are relative distinctions at best.

The concept too is equally obscure. There's some attractive, monochromatic Christian symbolism in the artwork and song titles, but the overall mood is more spiritual than overtly religious, and happily muted by the language barrier (a quick digression: if only NEIL MORSE could show equal restraint in his sledgehammer Prog Rock proselytizing). Nevertheless, there's no reason why, with a little editing, the entire trilogy couldn't have been presented on a single CD (or addressed in a single review, like here).

To date the music of Chrysalide has attracted only a handful of intrepid Prog Archive reviewers (mine is the first contribution in well over a year). The free downloads are a welcome act of Christian charity, but the band probably didn't have much choice: these albums would be a hard sell in any marketplace, cyber or otherwise.