As is often the case in this area of things, the efforts of the duo result in a music where responsibilities and roles are hard to define. There are sections where there are clearly separate and opposable elements occurring, but often its a more unified sprawl of sound - not a bad thing at all. The pervading thrust of the time is overwhelmingly linear, either via drone or via repetitive rhythms - this isn’t a tape of dynamics, shock tactics or lightning interactions. So, Les Hommes-Chiens’ improvisations can be crudely described as having two main ingredients: dark drone and rhythmic devices. The drone side of things is dominated by warm, noisy synth reverberations; exemplified by the first track which builds from a wide, expansive, ominous drone to include restrained, near-shrieking, skyward synth lines. The remaining three pieces all use overt rhythmic elements to a greater or lesser degree. The second, shorter, track has a shifting beat; constructed from a bass pulse and a snappy wooden, echoed hit - whilst the third piece has a twisting beat combining with a mesmeric two-note march (it actually runs the danger of being very dark and languid “trip-hop” - like a very tired Witchman). The last improvisation has a loop which comes into view from time to time, as well as a bass line with unfortunate space/stoner rock associations. Around and in between these drones and rhythms, more detailed, responsive instruments can be heard; with traces of violin, percussion and tape warble coming into play. As the last track builds to noisier climes and draws to a close, junk shrieks accompany the low, obliterating rumbles and flailing synths.

This is certainly an interesting project, though one perhaps caught between two stools: the kinetic activity of some of the playing arguably detracts from the “drone” aspect, whilst the overwhelmingly droney/linear feel of the release “traps” those more more kinetic elements. Nevertheless, this is an interesting tension to explore, and a fruitful one. “Tetramorphe” has an archaic feel to it at times, bringing to mind the seminal “Forbidden Planet” soundtrack, as well as early industrial experimentation like Cabaret Voltaire; it wouldn’t be too out of place as a very sombre Chocolate Monk release…  This is perhaps best recommended as a “wildcard” to those interested in dark ambient/drone.