Rook
Parasite

THE REVIEW

Hello! My name is rook and I am a girl.

A trans girl, angry, suffering, and marginalized.

The Black Dresses. If you have never listened to them, please do: a Canadian (trans)feminine duo speaking about their terrible condition in this world of scavengers and hyenas; speaking the language of music that punches the gut and twists the insides. "Hell is Real," their first EP, is a shocking blow; Noise and Post-industrial matched with videos I'm too afraid to watch for a proposal that, in terms of aggression, despair, and repressed fury, has nothing to envy from Death Metal and other extreme genres. Their albums, the latest released this year, continue in this vein: albums of denunciation, of misanthropic rebellion, of spitting in the face of discrimination and the closed-mindedness of so many, too many people.

MOTHERFUCKER, YOU DON'T KNOW

rook - it goes lowercase - is one of the two girls in question; and I've recently discovered that her solo career is even more noteworthy for me. "Parasite," released seven months ago, is her latest work, the last she’ll publish under this name, and it could be a depressed dream of the most melancholic and angry Trent Reznor, fused with Noise and Art Pop. Some elements of the sonic aggression of the Black Dresses (who had already released their first album, "WASTEISOLATION") are certainly detectable, but an atmosphere of gloom, oppression, and darkness, at times surreal ("Forget"), sometimes literally frightening (the scream of "Tomorrow," "Ok," the chilling "Damage"), permeates the entire album.

"Shed Blood" dealt with the theme of trauma and alienation; "Parasite" talks about the author's mental disorders, their fierce consequences, their contradictions. And it does so excellently.

A gaze directed at the power lines under a sad and livid sky.

The gaze of rook, an alienated and discriminated girl with a crystalline artistic talent.

I want to be a hole in your memory...

Support her, tolerate me.