4 out of 5

Label: Computer Students

Produced by: Guillaume Largillier, Pascal Joguet (recorded by, mastered by)

All things being equal – the players, the production, the mixing, the mastering, the remastering – except for time: Cheval De Frise’s Fresques Sur Les Parois Secrètes Du Crâne comes three years after their self-titled debut, and it’s an insane leap forward across the board. Given the factors above, we just have to assume that everyone in the room learned more about working with one another in the time inbetween, and maybe some landmark instrumental albums released in the interim (perhaps American Don?) made an impact, giving this unique instrumental duo some comparison points or framing for their sound of classical-influenced guitar and jazzy drumming set to a post-rock metronome of loud / quiet dynamics.

Before, CDF sounded rather wandering: songs were stitched together from little slices, that might as well have been Burroughsed into any given sequence; the two players were not vibing off of each other so much as just playing their all at all times, and convening by happenstance. It was technically impressive chaos, but only resulted in stuff that felt like songs on rare occasions, and then not long enough to really get into. Now, Fresques corrects for all of that: there’s ebb and flow; sections where someone gives room for someone else, and actual melodies and themes appear; the blasts of noise are sudden but used purposefully – this is no longer random jamming, but rather, y’know, actual songs. This is achieved without losing the impressive stuff: how deftly Thomas Bonvalet navigates his guitar, slipping in and out of delicate fretwork and aggressive strumming or soloing, hitched to that classical backing except when we need to let loose for some rocking out, which totally, definitely occurs; similarly, Vincent Beysselance snakes around his kit with the utmost precision, keeping things moving but being mindful of actually providing head-bobbing beats. It’s surely also notable that the sound palette expands in general: Simon Quehaillart is credited with an assist here and there, and maybe it’s a bass or another guitar or there’s some looping going on, but there are absolutely other layers – some ambience, for example – that add to how everything just feels more fleshed out and audience aware.

…Except in maybe one regard: all of this effort has been put into each song individually. While there are some of what we might call interstitial tracks, it’s more that these are just, like, the shorter ones – they don’t really link the surrounding songs. None of the songs feel linked together as an album, really, except by dint of sharing the generally same vibe. That is: while each tune is identifiable, I do feel you could move things are in any order, and every song feels pretty complete in and of itself, interstitials included. Because the music is rather dense, I kinda get it, but even after multiple spins of this, I couldn’t fix into memory which songs appeared when, only recognizing them as they played. This prevents immersion, which I do find tends to make the album less likely to call out for random playthroughs, and only might come to mind when I’m skimming through my stack of records or if it appears on a shuffled playlist.

However, once it starts, there’s no reason to stop.

The Computer Students’ reissue adds an artbook of paintings; they do sync well with the music, but I would’ve wished for some narrative on this, I suppose. However, Carl Saff’s mastering must’ve done quite a job on this, building off of the aforementioned better-realized original recording and mix: it’s a rich but clean production. And even if there’s a lack of more substantial extras (with apologies to the art; synced or not, it didn’t do much for me), I have to credit the label with bringing a previously unknown instrumental math band to my attentions. That first release left me cold, but this followup is absolutely deserving of being held side by side with other heavyweights in the scene.