BOSSE-DE-NAGE – s/t

By Brian Krasman

Thanks to the Internet, tabloid media, and the 24-hour news cycle, we seem to know way too much. Far more than we should. Much of that has carried over into our music, where we seem to demand far more intimacy from artists that we should. What are their names? Their family members’ names? Their dog’s name? What kind of car do they drive? What beer do they drink? What does this line in this song mean? Why are they wearing these jeans and not these other jeans? It can be exhaustive.

And look, it’s only natural. We enjoy the art, want to know why it exists, want to know who these people are. But not every band opens itself up in that way. One such act, San Francisco’s BOSSE-DE-NAGE, are the polar opposite of the all-the-news-fit-to-print cycle, and there’s something refreshing and a tad frustrating (that is, if you’re writing about them) that sets this depressive black metal band apart from the rest. There is almost nothing to learn about the band because they’ve put almost nothing about themselves out on the wires. We’re lucky we know they’re from the Bay Area. If that isn’t a red herring. We also know their stunning and suffocating self-titled debut album was recorded in 2007, sat on the shelf, and maybe wouldn’t have made it this far had it not been for LUDICRA/AGALLOCH drummer Aesop Dekker praising BOSSE-DE-NAGE on his blog The Cosmic Hearse.

Luckily, Flenser Records caught on and decided to release this seven-track beast into the world. The Flenser, by the way, is a label you want to pay some attention. It’s fairly new, and judging from their early results (PALACE OF WORMS’ “The Forgotten” is another captivating record they’re responsible for unearthing), they could be the next Profound Lore. But back to BOSSE-DE-NAGE. Even the song titles are perplexing and will cause some head tilts (or at least some exhaustive research). The vocals very well could be female (they sound like a meeting between LUDICRA’s Laurie Sue Shanaman and FUCK THE FACTS’ Mel Mongeon), and the band itself has that distinct SF-style imaginative black metal mixed with a heaping dose of brainy shoegaze. At times it’s like LEVIATHAN and AMESOEURS mashed into each other.

On the track listing, you’ll discover two pieces dubbed “Excerpt From Paris Spleen,” and the only guess anyone could register is each song is inspired by a different section of short prose poems written by Charles Baudelaire. And again, it might be misdirection. Oh, you notice all the nods toward French culture and language? Hmm. “Marie” and “Marie Pisses Upon the Count” are abrasive and fiery, with the cymbals taking a beating that could be labeled a hate crime. “Van Gogh Cooks His Hand” has a deeply buried melodic undercurrent that cuts well beneath the song’s blurry face.

There’s almost as much alluring mystery as devastating metallic fury that it leaves much flesh in which to sink one’s teeth. BOSSE-DE-NAGE also isn’t likely to be for everyone, as again, it leaves you with a lot of homework to do, a lot of reflection, and occasional intellectual frustration. But for those who want that very thing, this album will vex and reward you eternally. You may never tie up all these loose ends, but you sure won’t mind trying again and again.

http://theflenser.com/