motel void

I have a soft spot for slightly weird, experimental, cinematic music, and also for music sung in a language other than English — even if here French appears only sparingly. Still, it’s precisely this combination that makes Danse avec le tonnerre by Geneva-based musician Anthony Cedric Vuagniaux so compelling. A prolific and seasoned artist, he uploaded his first recordings to Bandcamp back in 2010. Since then, he has released around ten EPs and albums, the most recent bearing the aforementioned title. It is, however, his first full-length album in seven years.

The album opens with L’écho de l’ombre, a truly cinematic piece. Alongside bubbling synths and sounds resembling distant bird calls, it feels half-alluring, half-eerie and mysterious. The second track, Soir de tonnerre, begins with a slow, gentle beat before unsettling dark synths – and especially whistling – roll in. I happened to be writing this review alone in a hospital room just before midnight, and I couldn’t have chosen a more fitting time. The various sonic textures created an intensely immersive experience. On a muted television nearby, old European films from the late 1970s were playing – and this record inadvertently became their perfect soundtrack.

Minimalism continues in L’enivrement des rayons gamma, though here the synth work leans toward something more cosmic, almost otherworldly. Vuagniaux again plays with moments that feel partly melodic yet partly brooding and unsettling. In contrast, the fourth track, Joli Cheval, introduces the funkiest, most playful bass line so far, giving the song a slightly more whimsical spirit. Spoken word passages appear here as well, adding to the atmosphere, supported by sung backing vocals.

The fifth track, Ménage méninges, begins with static and the noise of what sounds like a malfunctioning device. It slowly morphs and swells with increasingly prominent sonic disturbances. It may be the least accessible piece on the album, yet paradoxically it left a powerful impression on me – perhaps thanks to its unexpectedly melodic and minimalist outro.

Soliloque is similarly atmospheric. For the first minute, it lingers in light experimental ambient territory before unfolding into a deeply captivating mood that recalls the opening track. A variety of unconventional instruments lend the composition an almost medieval, magical aura.

The longest track on the album is the title piece, Danse avec le tonnerre, which immediately draws attention with its hypnotic drums and vintage synths that generate a compelling bass line weaving through layers of noise and shadowy corners. The repetitive percussion gives the track a krautrock-infused vibe blended with psychedelic synth experimentation. It is the longest track on the album, and here Vuagniaux delves even deeper into that experimental world, resulting in a composition that more than does justice to the album’s title.

The album closes with Essence de la raison, built around strong and distinctive vintage synth textures, and Les fleuves du déni, which feels more playful and accessible thanks to its funk-leaning bass line and another spoken word passage.

Overall, the record often struck me as a soundtrack to my favorite films by Marguerite Duras – unconventional and experimental, yet deeply evocative and alluring. If I were to call any music truly original, it would be this release.

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This album was discovered via Submit Hub