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As depressive / suicidal black metal albums go, this debut work from French one-man act Dëgénéréscence is woeful indeed ... and that's a compliment, not a negative criticism, for it is indeed filled with more world-weary woe and sorrow than a debut work lasting just over half an hour should claim. From start to finish, this cri de coeur (the title of the album translates into English as "Alas! I was not made for this hatred ...") delivers the most heart-wrenching passion in painfully raw music and tortured screaming vocals. What Dëgénéréscence man Infamie has suffered to come to this point of recording and releasing an album of unrelenting misery and emotional agony, I know not (and perhaps it's best I don't know either or I'd be screaming my heart as well) but this short album is Depression, Despair and Desolation writ large in capital D's.
The title track opens the album with strumming tremolo guitars (both raw BM and bluesy clean-toned) that bring a heavy melancholy over the recording. This darkness hardly lifts even when the sound jumps about later in the album and gives it a very uneven recording quality. The noisy screeching vocals, more high-pressure fire hose than singing, belch hatred and pain alike while the guitars (and later a violin) provide trilling accompaniment. "Il pleure dans mon coeur" ("He cries in my heart") is much more emotional and painful with a steady noise-BM melody looping over and over while the vocals rain acid-corrosion fury. The songs may be almost laughably simple in their structure and repetition but that very repetition conveys ongoing agony and torment very effectively. "Ne chantez pas la mort" ("Don't sing death") brings in stormy dark atmosphere over the harsh guitar melody.
A brief interlude comes in the solo piano instrumental "Oration funebre" ("Funeral oration"), a mournful piece delivered in a darkly haunting atmosphere of longing and loss. Even this melody seems fragile and insubstantial, as if any minute the dark shadows behind it will engulf it forever. After this we continue with the last couple of raw BM punk songs, again repetitive in their make-up and minimal in their playing, and dominated as ever by the angry screaming. Curiously the overall sound on these songs is clearer than on the rest of the album, the soul finally having escaped life with all its stupidity and pain. Closing track "Mes sanglots longs" features a saxophone solo, plaintive in its sound and melody.
The simple music with its minimal playing and the emphasis on repetition delivers a work of emotional drama and agony in a world of darkness and indifference. The melodies can be deeply affecting and Infamie's roaring vocals are nearly always hard to bear. The album's presentation is stark and confrontational in contrast to the lyrics which are inspired by late 19th-century French fin-de-siecle poetry. ("Mes sanglots longs" actually includes some poetry from Paul Verlaine who was associated with that genre of decadent poetry.) All songs are consistent in their vision of a society and world in decline, and in their yearning and pain - there's not a bad track to be found here. They all probably could do with a better production that would highlight the singing and the raw noise-guitar textures even more.
Sample: youtube.com/watch?v=Tv4aw7ZW00o&t=207s
