Favorite track(s): VioLynnt, Gauge Theory, Seraphic
Label(s): self-release
Store: Bandcamp
Release date: 15 March 2025
FFO: Nine Inch Nails, Skinny Puppy, Clan of Xymox, Tangerine Dream
Genres: Industrial, Electronic, Dark Ambient, Noise
On La Morte D’Arc’s latest album, Butterflies and Snakes in the Dark, the New York-based musician creates a foreboding, brooding mood through a rich sonic palette. Zigzagging through grinding noise, deliciously haunting ambient interludes, industrial beats and bass throbs, field recordings, and spectral piano, plus the occasional sitar and wailing guitar, the self-described “nocturne unfolding in 11 parts” sets expectations and obliterates them in equal measure. Throughout the album, La Morte D’Arc conjures a sense of narrative ark — love and loss filtered through a lens of self-reflection/introspection and darkest night. Moments of beauty and terror coexist as loving preludes to one another, fomenting magic in sonic form. The complex relationships of dark and light, loud and quiet, grit and surrender, gently billow then surge in cacophonous crescendos of glorious noise.
Opener “Deceiver” succinctly states the artist’s intentions: a spooky, noisy string-scape gives way to a pulse-pounding crescendo of pummeling beats with barely audible vocals beneath the din. One gets the sense things are just warming up.
“Please
I just want to talk about
All the things you did”
With “Envy”, a somber nightscape enfolds listeners with a haunting piano only to defy expectations with gritty synth stabs of incandescent noise, at once evoking Nine Inch Nails “Ghosts” and the darker moments of Skinny Puppy. All the while, vocals stalk us underneath, a scratchy dissonance to accompany the cacophonic oscillations, singing:
“I lurk in the murky water”
Exemplifying the sort of mildly retro, yet modern sounds present throughout the record, an immersive bass drop greets listeners on the lovely “VioLynnt” while ghostly feedback drenched violin (courtesy of the song’s namesake) gives way to gently warbling arpeggios and gritty bass.
Industrial rocker “Gauge Theory” marches listeners into a dread state, fading momentarily while a heavenly chorus lulls us back into comfort, only to thud once more into the murk in an industrial/electronic take on loud/quiet/loud dynamics.
“Hall of Mirrors” evokes that retro feeling the most of any of the tracks and would be at home on a mix tape that included industrial brethren Clan of Xymox and Front 242.
The self-described harsh noise aspect of the album is fully realized on “R Complex” but our expectations get subverted once again with a pair of ambient interludes and a gorgeous, uplifting ending. If one song could serve as a mission statement for La Morte D’Arc, this would seemingly be it.
On “Swallowed Whole” the loud/quiet/loud (or maybe dark/light/dark) dynamic presses forward with a bass thrum evolving under a coalescing string crescendo. One gets the sense that the night is deepening and we listeners are succumbing to its charms.
The album’s darkly gorgeous opus, “Seraphic,” offers a cinematic twist — ocean sounds journey toward a twinkling piano glissando that evolves into lovely, sweeping synth melodies riding atop rich bass from the abyss. This heady mix swirls to convey a sense of triumph and loss.
The wistful and meandering “Anima” exudes the kind of profound sadness felt at 3am on too little sleep through noisy moments filtered between rich soundscapes, slightly warbly piano, and sitar.
The rhythmic pulses and echoing synth arpeggios on “Butterflies and Snakes in the Dark” buttress guitar wails until a grandiose drop obliterates the previous build up in a climactic frenzy – even near the end, there are sonic surprises lurking in the dark.
“This Is Your Fault” opens with dramatic and virtuosic piano trills and plunks that cascade into the sort of heavy bass supported soundscape we’ve come to crave. An epic and fitting close to a darkly epic album.
