Review: Present – High Infidelity (2001)

High Infidelity is Present’s fifth studio album.

Belgian band Present’s High Infidelity is one of those albums that makes words seem inadequate. It is at once relentless, complex, and captivating—undoubtedly one of the most significant achievements of 21st-century avant-prog.

Guitarist Roger Trigaux and drummer Daniel Denis founded Univers Zero in 1974, which went on to become one of the most significant pioneering bands of the avant-prog scene. Trigaux left the band after the release of the album Hérésie in 1979 and founded Present that same year. For a long time, the band existed alongside Univers Zero, which remained under Denis’s leadership, but from the start, Present was a slightly heavier and more straightforwardly rock-oriented group. Even in the 1980s, the differences between the two bands weren’t particularly great, but by the late 1990s, their paths began to diverge clearly. While Univers Zero softened its sound and incorporated more melody, ethnic influences, and chamber-music-like sensitivity into its music, Present resolutely moved in the opposite direction. High Infidelity is the culmination of this evolution.

High Infidelity originated during recording sessions held in Israel in 1999. Over the course of two weeks, approximately 100 minutes of material was recorded, which was first compiled into No. 6 in 1999 and, two years later, into High Infidelity. Both albums showcased a new direction for Present: a more aggressive, intense, and heavy sound, in which long compositions are built upon slowly evolving repetitive patterns. Although the albums are closely related, High Infidelity takes this approach even further than its predecessor.

Like No. 6, High Infidelity also makes use of an expanded lineup, featuring saxophones, cello, trumpet, and flugelhorn alongside traditional rock instrumentation—electric guitar, bass, drums, and keyboards. Now, however, the sound feels even more massive, and the small horn section, in particular, takes on a greater role than before. At times, the music resembles a twisted big band that has strayed into an avant-garde nightmare landscape.


Read also: Review: Univers Zero – Ceux Du Dehors (1981)


The album opens with Trigaux’s nearly half-hour-long composition “Souls For Sale,” one of the most impressive epic works of progressive rock. The structure of this six-part behemoth is based on repetition, but it never feels like it’s treading water. The same riffs and rhythmic patterns gradually transform into new forms so subtly that you often don’t notice the changes until afterward. The piece is reminiscent of a nightmare that seems to repeat the same events over and over, even though with each cycle, some small detail becomes slightly more menacing. Eventually, the listener realizes they have wandered into a place from which there seems to be no escape.

What is particularly striking about this work is its staccato-like, driving rhythms and its exceptionally skillful use of dynamics and space. In particular, Dave Kerman’s drums occasionally hit you right in the face with tremendous force, but the small horn section also delivers impressive riffs at times amidst Trigaux’s pained electric guitar. Although the sound grows immensely massive in places, the music never sounds mechanical or exhausting. The airy production gives each instrument room to breathe, and the calmer sections built into the composition keep the whole piece constantly alive. An excellent example of this is the fourth movement, in which the cello—playing almost alone at first—gradually leads the music into increasingly raw and somber moods.

In this almost entirely instrumental work, the human voice is heard only as occasional, eerie sighs, screams, and frenzied shouts. These do not add a melodic dimension to the music, but rather emphasize its psychological unease. This approach works exceptionally well, as this kind of music does not require traditional singing.

Pianist Pierre Chevalier’s two-part, 11-minute composition “Strychnine For Christmas” features the album’s only actual vocal performances—if Roger Trigaux’s idiosyncratic use of his voice can be called that. The track is the album’s lightest material, thanks in particular to the lively-sounding horns, but even it moves through somber moods. The title alone, along with its subtitle “The Truth About Santa Claus,” makes it clear that there’s no Christmas spirit to be found here. Dark humor occasionally peeks out from beneath the surface, but even that feels more like a nervous chuckle in the midst of a nightmare than actual relief.

The song, which begins with a rusty, whirring cello, rapid drum fills, and the sound of shattering glass, builds—through the ostinato stubbornly repeated by the wind instruments—into a dark winter-night nightmare much like its predecessor. This time, however, the musical language is slightly more animated than on “Souls For Sale” after the initial repetition. Trigaux’s vocal performance—which sounds like a mix of muttering and bellowing—can’t exactly be called beautiful, but that’s precisely why it fits the mood of the music perfectly.

Right at the very end, there’s a funny moment when the music has already faded out and Trigaux recites the song’s final words in English by himself. Trigaux, who is Belgian, mispronounces the word “none,” which Kerman, an American, corrects in a way that sounds extremely frustrated. The situation suggests that this wasn’t the first failed take!

The closing track, “Rêve de Fer,” composed by Trigaux, distills the essence of the album into nine minutes. It does not seek to offer a cathartic resolution, but rather leaves the listener in the same oppressive world into which the album led them at the beginning. “Rêve de Fer” is built upon Keith Macksoud’s thick, growling bass riff, a piano ostinato that maintains tension without pause, violent guitar riffs, screeching noises shifting from one channel to another, and horns painting long arcs. The tortured dissonance of the saxophones heard toward the end is a delight to the ears in all its toxicity.


Read also:


The star of the album is drummer Dave Kerman, who has earned his stripes in numerous avant-garde bands. Kerman—who has led his own bands, 5uu’s and U Totem, and has played with groups such as Thinking Plague and Aranis—delivers performances throughout the album that are nothing short of breathtaking. His playing combines technical precision with constantly evolving dynamics in a way that brings to mind Henry Cow’s legendary Chris Cutler. In keeping with the album’s demands, however, Kerman’s playing is considerably heavier than Cutler’s ever was. He doesn’t merely hold the songs together; he builds their internal movement. His rhythms make this challenging music consistently engaging to listen to.

The album’s production deserves just as much praise. Avant-prog albums aren’t always known for their exceptionally good sound, but High Infidelity, recorded by Udi Koomran, is an exception in this regard. Every instrument comes through clearly, even though the arrangements are at times dizzyingly dense. The dynamic soundstage and natural sense of space make the album an excellent test record for new hi-fi equipment. It’s actually surprising just how much better High Infidelity sounds compared to its predecessor, No. 6, even though both albums were recorded during the same sessions and Koomran handled both the recording and mixing. Perhaps there was simply more time to mix the latter. Be that as it may, High Infidelity deserves its name, which playfully references the world of hi-fi.

High Infidelity is not an album that tries to please the listener. It demands concentration, patience, and a willingness to surrender to its dark world. The reward, however, is exceptional. The album combines the intellectual ambition of the Rock in Opposition movement, the structural thinking of modern classical music, and the physical power of heavy rock in a way that few other bands have been able to achieve.

High Infidelity is not only the pinnacle of Present’s career, but also one of the greatest masterpieces of avant-prog from the entire 2000s.

Best tracks: ”Souls For Sale”, ”Strychnine For Christmas”

Rating: 5 out of 5.
Author: JANNE YLIRUUSI

Read also: Review: Present – This Is NOT The End (2024)


Tracks

1. Souls For Sale I (3:16)
2. Souls For Sale II (3:26)
3. Souls For Sale III (3:41)
4. Souls For Sale IV (5:29)
5. Souls For Sale V (4:57)
6. Souls For Sale VI (6:47)
7. Strychnine For Christmas – Part 1 (3:57)
8. Strychnine For Christmas – Part 2 (7:00)
9. Rêve de fer (9:23)

Roger Trigaux: guitar, vocals Reginald Trigaux: guitar, vocals Pierre Chevalier: piano, keyboards, organ, Mellotron, vocals Matthieu Safatly: cello, vocals Fred Becker: alto and tenor saxophones Dominic Ntoumos: trumpet, flugelhorn Keith Macksoud: bass Dave Kerman: drums and percussion, vocals

Other musicians:

Yuval Mesner: cello Meidad Zaharia: accordion

Producer: Roger Trigaux, Udi Koomran
Label: Carbon 7 Records

Jätä kommentti

Website Built with WordPress.com.

Ylös ↑