Plebeian Grandstand — Rien Ne Suffit
Plebeian Grandstand is a dissonant, disorienting experimental heavy act from France with an atmosphere of apocalyptic terror in their music. Their music stands between the glacial monuments to suffering created by experimental doom acts like Khanate and a further deconstructed version of the 'mathcore' style played by Dillinger Escape Plan, Converge or Daughters. Rien Ne Suffit, released this year in 2021, is their 4th album since debuting in 2010.
There is great complexity and musicianship on this recording, which features thunderous and precise blast beats, uneven time signatures and nimble manoeuvring from one riff to the next. The songwriting on this album is a level of through-composed technicality that is almost impossible for the mind to truly parse. Rare is the technical band that truly withholds any anchor of familiarity to grab onto, but you'll be hard-pressed to find a single repeated riff here. This band is wholly unafraid to stop the already off-kilter groove on a dime, blasting you with electronic noise or changing tempo entirely.
Bands such as Meshuggah have created individual riffs, perhaps, that are more difficult to follow, but I've hardly ever heard an album with more abrupt changes and tiny micro sections as this. Each 4-7 minute song is more like a collection of countless tiny vignettes, each intentionally interrupted with another fearsome barrage. The overall effect is that of being jarred in the present moment to the point that any recollection of past sounds or riffs is cleansed away.
Some technical music fans will be put off by the sheer anguish exuding from this disk, a bitter jadedness not unlike groups like The Body or Pyrrhon. Despite being so technical, there is none of the usually reserved quality of progressive music. Not infrequently, the music will break down into electronic noise, ambience and distant screaming. Industrial hell world interludes appear nearly as often as anything resembling metal, and the feeling is primitivist and base, with a sense of desperation, like nothing, is left to be lost. Distorted synth textures, frequency-modulated into grainy bleating growls, blend with the guitar and sometimes overtake it completely. The rough analogue electronics work marvellously, reminding me of power violence groups like Man is the Bastard (and some Brutal Truth material).
"Tropisme" begins quite interestingly, with syncopated, distorted electronic kicks synced to the shrieking howls of the vocals. Even when these almost danceable kick sounds are used, heavy polyrhythms and unpredictable variations make it difficult to find footing and rebuild the band's structures in your head.
The drumming is almost cinematic in its bold drama, with the heaviest use of fills and toms I've heard since early Brann Dailor (Mastodon). It is the drummer who truly rises to the insurmountable task of coordinating this group through the asymmetrical mayhem of the band's compositions. The drum production is appropriately bass-heavy and booming, allowing the drummer to take the lead from the comparatively thin guitar.
The guitar style leans towards modern black metal, eschewing the typical tremolos for a more complex and varied palette of dissonance. The newer Gorguts material has a style similar to this, with its deep exploration of the key of 'storm' and 'rain'. Bands such as Ulsect and Pyrrhon exist in this realm as well: a sludgier, more washed out style than the percussive, chugging death metal of old, focused around the quivering tension of discordant notes ringing against each other.
For those not initiated into dissonant avant-metal, listening to this recording is like inviting a constant state of anxiety. For those in the know, the emotion will remain the same, but there should be an appreciation for the near-infinite depth and darkly glimmering, fractured fractal beauty of this hefty slice of apocalypse fear. This is quite possibly the heaviest, darkest and most technical metal album I've ever heard. Surely, that counts for something. I'm not sure how often I'll be listening to it, but I can't help but respect such an utterly uncompromising personality.