Les Discrets
Prédateurs

Perhaps due to a subtle superstition, I am accustomed to considering the third album as the acid test, the confirmation (albeit young) of an artist's consistency, and therefore a valid bet on their longevity. Of course, I don't always get it right, but I've often come across such "acid tests" where the sums didn’t add up, revealing uncertainties that would soon come to light: either due to a fundamental lack of ideas or doubts about the direction to take. In the case of Les Discrets, a project under the elegant pen of Fursy Teyssier, I'm afraid it falls into the second category.

Their third album, Prédateurs, underwent an unusually long gestation: Ariettes oubliées dates back to a full five years ago, and during this period, good Fursy must have pondered a lot about what to do, perhaps realizing that the hybrid of post-black and shoegaze sounds (very loosely, mind you!) was already at risk of imploding after the initial enthusiasm. As poetic and intelligent as the debut Septembre et ses dernières pensées (2010) was, its successor was equally stale; it’s more of a blend of very particular sounds, a few years ago even innovative, but at the same time too derivative to guarantee its own autonomy over the long haul.

And so, while cousins and fellow countrymen Alcest ventured into dream-pop territories with results, in my view, rather bland (Shelter, 2014), and Lantlôs definitely gave themselves to post-metal (Melting Sun, 2014), Fursy, fresh from intense listening sessions of trip-hop and some eighties relics, began to toy with a phantom side project called Sainpaul, only to change his mind and publish the new tracks always under the name of his Les Discrets. A sensible choice, because if it is true that Prédateurs strips away metallic distortions, letting other influences shine through, one cannot say that the nocturnal poetry of our artist has been denatured by it; if anything, it has become subtle, cinematic, and even less incisive than expected – the cover seems to suggest it.

The results are interesting but mixed, you can sense the shyness of someone who hasn't yet fully familiarized themselves with the new form: Virée nocturne oozes trip-hop with its beats, its pulsating and hypnotic bass, its sensual arpeggios; for a moment it almost feels like being back in 90s Bristol, but Fursy’s dreamy vocalizations and his exquisite French accent soon bring us back to reality. The first glimpse of the album's leaden panorama convinces and engages without thrilling, and Les amis de minuit, with its refined acoustic/clean guitar weaves and sinuous drum loops, follows quietly and imperceptibly like a trail. The inevitable whispers of Audrey Hadorn are present, although as usual, her contribution doesn’t go beyond mere accompaniment.

Vanishing Beauties brings back more incisive electronics and the infiltrations involve even Fursy’s voice, now distorted and tormented; however, repetitiveness is just around the corner, and indeed with Fleur des murailles, it borders on a tedious moonlit lullaby, moreover attempting once again to pay homage to Portishead's Dummy. It continues this way between standout moments, such as the darkwave flashes of Le reproche or the subtle elegy of Rue Octavio Mey, and some hesitation, due to the haphazard composition and evanescent melodies (Les jours d'or) or simply because the idea is just barely sketched out (Lyon - Paris 7h34).

Prédateurs appears as the typical interlocutory album, fascinating in its intentions but with its focus still in need of adjustment: it skirts more genres, from post-rock to dream-pop to trip-hop, flavors everything with a dark tinge, yet struggles to assert itself in any case. Of course, after five years one could have expected a little more not only in quality but also in quantity (excluding the intro, we’re left with barely 40 minutes of music), yet the intention not to overdo it is understandable. With discretion (ahem) and caution, but always faithful to their artistic vision, Les Discrets continue their journey carrying quite a few question marks with them, to which one hopes they will not respond with a about-face.