Des Visages Des Figures - Noir Desir

...with Noir Desir and especially Des Visages des Figures, for this has to be one of the great albums. In truth I’ve been listening to this for nearly a year, since a friend with a knack for knowing what people will like, introduced me. I listened on and off, giving it a spin every month or so, then – that fateful then – about a month ago I placed it into my CD player and slipped on my headphones… I can’t say how many times I’ve listened to it since ...
...of creativity on display on Des Visages des Figures. For it is an album of stunning creativity to rival, well, anyone. Why is it so good? In short I can but say because the song writing is sublime; the musicians superb but most importantly Noir Desir are not trying to be anyone other than Noir Desir. They are very obviously French and yet have clearly absorbed disparate influences effortlessly into their music, from their bluesy harmonicas to North ... more

Long Live Noir Desir! Noir Desir is dead!

Well, kind of. It’s probably not particularly PC to like Noir Desir as their charismatic singer, Bretrand Cantat is currently about to stand trial for manslaughter (of then girlfriend, actress Marie Trintignant), the story behind which is rather hazy; but this should not get in the way of recognising what an utterly sublime band Noir Desir were.

It is very easy to dismiss European rock music and often it is pretty bad; mainland Europe flourishes in all other art forms but contemporary rock music seems to be one item that is missing. So it is just as easy to accept something slightly less than great as great because of general paucity of skill. Not so with Noir Desir and especially Des Visages des Figures, for this has to be one of the great albums. In truth I’ve been listening to this for nearly a year, since a friend with a knack for knowing what people will like, introduced me. I listened on and off, giving it a spin every month or so, then – that fateful then – about a month ago I placed it into my CD player and slipped on my headphones… I can’t say how many times I’ve listened to it since then; it repeats ad infinitum; it’s just that good.

Admittedly I’ve only listened to one other Noir Desir album, 666.667 Club which is rockier and almost as good but can’t quite match the sheer level of creativity on display on Des Visages des Figures. For it is an album of stunning creativity to rival, well, anyone. Why is it so good? In short I can but say because the song writing is sublime; the musicians superb but most importantly Noir Desir are not trying to be anyone other than Noir Desir. They are very obviously French and yet have clearly absorbed disparate influences effortlessly into their music, from their bluesy harmonicas to North African tinged clarinet. There’s even a little electronic backing in places. This is a real synthesis of influences all channelled through a communal sensibility that creates music that is like nothing I have ever heard before.

The album begins absolutely perfectly with chiming acoustic guitar and low synthesised ambient sounds. Then Cantat’s delicately emotive, hypnotic voice enters and L’Enfant Roi is away. It us a subtle, soft track; yet utterly beguiling; even the electric guitars are dim echoes that drift on the edge of the music. For this really is Cantat’s song; his mellifluous vocals slide gently over the music. Simplicity in its greatest form is all I can say about this; for the guitar riff is nothing spectacular but it’s not meant to be – it’s a truly adult piece of music from a band that has matured beyond the need for a wall of sound.

Le Grand Incendie is a little different; it has more obviously energy; Cantat’s vocals are more immediate; the rumbling bass line pushes the song forward and the music builds till Cantat’s declares (in English, for the lyrics are all in French) “go” and the music takes off, electric guitars burst forth and beautifully bluesy and yet entirely proper harmonica enters. I find the use of harmonica absolutely inspired as are the eerie electronics that enter beneath the harmonica; there’s also some great drumming, the kind that you find yourself listening through the music and fixing on. There is something brilliantly dense to the music; there are so many sounds and yet each complements one another to perfection. I’m not sure if this is a rock song, blues, or something entirely new. I think perhaps it is the lattermost.

Third up is my favourite: Le Vent Nous Portera. This is similar to the opening track, simple yet indescribably graceful. I think that this was actually released as a single and I can understand why; it is simply beautiful music. The acoustic guitar is just a delight and Cantat’s vocals are nothing short of gorgeous. There is a kind of magic in the music because really there is nothing but two acoustic guitars and subtly drumming here – yet that guitar, once Cantat’s vocals break, is hauntingly beautiful and the North African clarinet is inspired beyond description – it fits in with such perfection; it is that subtle variation that elsewhere would be tacky and yet here it is gorgeous and reminds me slightly of King Crimson’s Sartori in Tangiers. But then so does the very end of Le Grand Incendie, which is reminiscent of In the Court of the Crimson King. No surprise then that there is a live version by Noir Desir of 20th Schizoid Man available on the web. I just lose myself in this; the music so simple yet sublime, the passion is ever present but kept in check, running under the surface.

Des Armes for me illustrates Cantat’s great vocal skills; for again Cantat is of foremost importance in this song. If he were not such a magnificent singer his vocals would collapse into overwrought hysteria as he yells: Des Armes, but no, Cantat has that rare talent of approaching the abyss and yet pulling himself back from the edge and hence his vocals are powerful yet distinctively emotional. Des Armes is absolutely a piece of artifice, but what artistic artifice; it is self-conscious and yet knowingly so – simple, with crashing sounds behind simplistic organ and delicate percussion. Plus it is clever for it knows when to end and after two minutes we disappear into the gorgeously distorted introduction to:

L' Appartement. Now I’m a real sucker for this kind of distorted, played-back synthesised sounds that pulse under Cantat’s vocals and distorted guitars. This is music manipulated post-production – there are moments in L' Appartement that are reminiscent of Eno: the distortion, the curious artificial sounds that pulse in the background, the echoes behind the vocals. Again I find this fantastically mature, for it is music made up of sounds; even when the distorted guitar enters it slides in Robert Fripp like bursts under the electronic base of the song. It is wonderfully clever and never descends into the mess of sounds that it threatens to. Perhaps this does sound messy on paper, but that is the skill of the band that they are able to make sense of such disparate sounds and keep a beautifully coherent whole.

The title track to Des Visages des Figures is a little like Des Armes, in that there is considerable artifice; at least as it opens, but simple, sliding guitar and distant harmonica enter after Cantat’s sleepy vocals finish their first salvo. This sounds exceedingly French to me, but in an absolutely positive way; it is stunning to me the way in which Cantat, whilst appearing to do some little manages to project so much feeling. For this is very low-key and again it is hard to say exactly what the band are doing and what their aims are because the music is so distinctive and carefully constructed. There is something very progressive here (as is the album as a whole) and I feel Eno fans, and those of King Crimson, Bowie et al would do well to listen and yet at the same time this is very modern, it doesn’t hark back to a time that is lost, even the vaguely Rolling Stones bluesy-ness is entirely modern and Noir Desir’s own.

Son Style 1 is as close to absolute rock out as the album ever reaches and is it out of place? At first it appears so, but it is really very clever; for a start, Noir Desir don’t go off on one, they keep the track short and sharp, what with the pounding introduction and heavy guitars as well as Cantat’s sharp, powerful vocals. I would imagine live that this would be absolutely amazing – really pounding, devastating music; it is exciting without being over loud or generic. The grinding guitar is a joy, Cantat is clearly enjoying himself, everything is clear and sharp, then, as if powering down the sound disappears into the same pulsing that greeted Son Style 1 and in enters

Son style 2; which has an odd beginning for there is a strange static that grinds beneath the acoustic guitar that at first I thought was a scratch on my CD, but after listening to a friend’s copy I realised it was intentional. This is perhaps my least favourite song on the album; it is clearly a companion piece to Son Style 1 (unsurprisingly considering the naming). For me the song doesn’t do enough; I can appreciate Cantat’s vocals but I think it is the actual sound of the song that doesn’t do it for me. Still, it’s hardly a bad song at all; which is what is strange about it; still it does pale compared to:

A L'Envers À l'Endroit, which begins with gloriously distorted synthesisers and Cantat’s vocals, which are absolutely beautiful; again there is only really simple acoustic guitars playing slowly off one another and the delightful distortion sliding beneath the surface. Still this is music that I can feel creeping up through my scalp. It is lush and beautiful; the sound of the words Cantat sings are luscious and melodious. There is something so simple and delicious about A L'Envers À l'Endroit. Like a small yet beautifully formed work of art, with gentle rhythms and subtle musician’s drifting around Cantat’s simple, perfectly formed vocals.

Lost is almost as good as A L'Envers À l'Endroit. Cantat again is a delight. The gentle drumming is soft and the chiming guitars mix into a delicious tapestry of music; it is so soft, so gentle; so correctly timed; an absolutely, perfectly judged piece of music then: wham, the tempo ups, electric guitars veer in, Cantat raises the stakes vocally. Is this bad? On paper, yes; in reality: absolutely not. The segue is beautifully judged and this necessary influx of unbridled energy in no way detracts from what has gone before as both sides of the song complement one another so exactly – there is a balance as the overall sound of the song remains constant. Really, Lost is just three and a half minutes of brilliance; the opening delicacy and the ending energy are just so right; I think because the musicians just nail the sound that they’re after – and never once does anything take over: vocals, guitars, percussion, neither one loses out to the other. It is simply exciting and enthralling in equal measures.

Bouquet de Nerfs opens with beautiful acoustic guitar that sounds remarkably similar to a Bryan Ferry song from the 70s that I fail to recall the name of. The guitar has the same chiming delicacy, sliding like waves on a melancholy beach. Cantat’s vocals are soft, emotional; vibes peal gently around the periphery. Once again, Cantat could so easily disappear into over-emotional despondency as the strings enter. There is something melancholy about Bouquet de Nerfs and yet is absolutely cathartic; the sense of seething emotional is palpable without ever being over-wrought. The overall effect, with the string orchestration alongside the band is quite beautiful and decidedly one of those songs that grow on you with time. Perhaps it hasn’t the immediate beauty of Le Vent Nous Portera or A L'Envers À l'Endroit but it is still a beautifully controlled piece of music.

How does one go about describing L’Europe? Well, for a start it finishes the album and is, well, 23 minutes long. Like most songs of this length it achieves its goal by splitting the song into rough sections; the beginning is a mix of electronic vibrations and ululations as well as distant clarinet; then vocals of…? To be honest I know not who; then it grows with guitars entering, playing off one another; the clarinet continues, growing wilder. Suddenly we’ve moved from avant-garde electronica into free-form jazz territory with Cantat sounding as if he is making up his lyrics as he is going on. It feels like an improvisation. Yet an improvisation by a band that knows one another’s style perfectly and can pre-empt their fellow musicians. This continues and suddenly we are almost back to the beginning again. And only ten minutes have gone by, and I shan’t spoil this for you. L’Europe is perhaps the greatest and worst moment on the album, a track of contradictions and disparate musical styling controlled by musicians’ who understand one another and who never give in to over-indulgence. This is thrilling and annoying; thrilling for the sheer musical invention and the band’s desire to fly in the face of convention; annoying if I am not in the mood for L’Europe, for this is a song that demands your full attention; it requires a stunning amount of interactivity because it cannot be placed on in the background as you’re working or reading (try as I may). It is their most terrible mistake and their magnum opus. I love it and I hate it. But right now, as I listen to it, I love it, for it is great; out of control and in control.

Anyone with an ear out for something entirely original, something out of the ordinary; someone who progressive tendencies; anyone who likes rock or world music; anyone who wants to be challenged, go out and investigate Des Visages des Figures by Noir Desir, for I really believe this is one of greatest instances of music ever recorded ever, regardless of form. What with Cantat’s remarkable vocals; the deceptively simple instrumentation; the quiet innovation and effortless invention: a joy.

Is there a drawback, well, two: a) it has at some point to end and; b) the price. Go to Amazon and it is £15.99, which isn’t especially cheap but it is well worth every penny.
 

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