The radiophonic work on Revers Ouest is a satisfying cascade of metallic whooshes that sound as though they were emanating from the core of a dying star. When heavily processed cello, piano and moose pipe (yes, moose pipe) aren’t frantically wiggling against a soothing backdrop of ritual space seepage, the proceedings begin to simmer slowly, and spectral female voices emerge from the shadows. According to the linear notes, the voices, shattered like ice into so many jagged pieces, narrate a story based around two characters perched in the Nantes city. In this manner, Roux merges and juxtaposes radio genres like documentary with musical forms such as electro-acoustic and glitch.
Throughout, Roux demonstrates a grasp of abstracted form and flow. He knows how the pieces should sound, which relationships to forgo and which to further, and he is able to dive in with more of an enthused freedom and sense of risk as a result. Much of the album is mystifying and ominous. While it maintains the symphonic sense which characterized previous works by Roux, here the orbits are more eccentric, and many compositions work into powerful vibrations that are threatening both in their force and assured manner of unfolding. A complex and biting vision of psychological drama told by pointillist blips, mechanical gyrations, striating strings and disembodied voices, Revers Ouest sits strangely content between utopia and dystopia, heaven and hell, real and surreal.
Max Schaefer
