Nihilism - Cataclysme Vers l'Ascendance

Out from the darkness and into the end times. 

Much has already been written about bands who figure things out as they go. A shaky but promising first release, a minor change in sound in a spare demo or EP, and boom, a new record that showcases the direction that was previously hinted upon in a fully realised manner, which is then met with praise or derision by critics and fanbase. Tale as old as time. While there are many who are content simply refining their sound over the course of their career, I find the aforementioned approach to be far more interesting to observe as a reviewer and music fan. Really, that’s what makes Nihilism’s sophomore, Cataclysme vers l’Ascendance so fascinating to me, because not only does it give us something entirely different to what preceded it, it came about in the span of a mere two years, during which the band was radio silent.

From the moment “I” breaks out, you’d almost be forgiven for thinking an entirely different band worked on this. Gone is the prolonged introduction, we’re immediately met with cacophonous blasting and ringing dissonant notes that possess a near-mathy character. Hell, even Chris Bonos seems to have found his place, his previously shy screeching at the front, injected with a much needed shot of adrenaline. Sure, Obscurite Noir wasn’t necessarily lacking in intensity, but it was nowhere near as lively. The choppy riffing presented here is equal parts brain-bending and pummelling, and things remain unpredictable throughout the song’s 4 minute length. It’s genuinely astounding how much they manage to cram in without losing the plot. Music this shifty requires everyone involved to be in lockstep, not only in terms of playing, but also in terms of vision. I hate to repeatedly draw comparisons to previous works in my reviews, but I really can’t wrap my head around how they managed to invert their writing approach of “3 minutes’ worth of ideas stretched to 5”, and keep it cohesive.

“II” sees the duo further spread their wings, with a slightly greater emphasis on atmosphere, without necessarily sacrificing intensity. Wrenching grooves are offset by rampant percussion coursing underneath them, the slight disagreement in tempo keeping the listener guessing, while also giving them a trail to follow. The whole thing is a roller coaster really, as Nihilism also manages to inject some slower parts into the mix without robbing the piece of its tension. Guitar breaks uphold an equilibrium of tension and tranquillity, and always escalate towards something, be it one of the band’s majestic tremolo streams, or a lopsided arpeggiated groove. Radical as their transformation might have been, the fact that they knew what they should keep from the debut is reassuring, as the aforementioned tremolos do a lot to help mix things up, in addition to providing a foil to the discordant jangling that permeates the music.

Unfortunately, it doesn’t take long for things to start feeling more and more scatterbrained. “III” is a dour and sludgy instrumental, that, despite its quality, comes much too early in the album and kneecaps the momentum that was built up to that point, and after all my listens, I am not quite sure if it ever manages to recover from that. The album begins to move in fits and starts, more akin to a sputtering car engine than a black metal onslaught, “IV” also featuring brass and choir breaks alongside the bursts of dissonant black metal. Cataclysme vers l’Ascendance makes an attempt to course-correct through that song, but things come to a screeching halt IMMEDIATELY AFTER with “V”, an ambient composition that contents itself with droning and groaning around for longer than it has any business to. I understand that an element of the avant-garde is unpredictability, but given that we’re talking about a conceptual work, especially one that lasts a mere 34 minutes, it’s hard not to feel the whiplash from one moment to the next.

Even though the last third of Cataclysme vers l’Ascendance manages to bring things back with “VI”’s labyrinthine and grandiose finale (awkward clean vocals included), and a denouement that actually means something in “VII”, with its female-vocal driven post-cataclysmic bliss, it doesn’t pass muster. It’s the equivalent of plummeting down a cliff and having your fall interrupted multiple times over by stopping on another cliff and needing someone to push you so that you can keep going down. In brief, the density of ideas per song is pretty solid, but when you take a wider lens to look at the entirety of the album it falls out of whack because it’s doing too much on a track-by-track basis. Sure, the concept of “an apocalypse brings about a new world that allows us to transcend” is there, but it feels like I’m watching it unfold at x2 speed, and it deserves better than feeling like a sped-up YouTube video.

Ironically enough, it feels like Nihilism were tempering their ambitions on this one. Cataclysme vers l’Ascendance is beholden to the same constraints their debut was in terms of its duration and track listing, when in reality its leaps in style and technique deserved so much more. Looking at individual parts under a microscope shows us a band that has fully come into its own, creating erratic and contorting music that suffocates and elevates the listener in equal measure, but I can’t help but feel like they don’t let us absorb the vistas we see in the journey they created. Even then, despite its hectic nature, it continues to be a commendable effort, and a bold step forward for what had started as a merely vicious black metal band with little else to help it stand out. I can only hope we get to see something new from them in the future, perhaps another great leap forward, one that actually gets the time it deserves.

Highlights: I, II, VI

Rating: 80%