3 out of 5

Label: Murailles Music

Produced by: Manuel Duval (recorded and mixed)

The polarities of noise and melody exhibited by Rien Virgule are somewhat tamped down on Berceuses des deux mondes, favoring the group’s digital side and embracing more of an improvisational ethos. While there’s certainly a take that this makes for a matured sound, as it’s less impulsive in a sense, depending on how much you value those impulses and their accompanying edges will likely determine this fifth outing’s effectiveness. …And as these are defining features of the band to me, it unfortunately led to an underwhelming, if pretty, listen.

Thankfully, the core elements of RV are still fully intact; there’s no mistaking them for anyone else. This is strongest on the album’s A-side, which might be setting up alignment with the album’s title (translated for we english-only folk as “Lullabies of the Two Worlds”), as we transition towards comparatively dulcet tones on the additional LP sides. Prior to that, though, the pair of 8+ minute stompers that open things marry the group’s telltale cinematic, orchestral march with Anne Careil’s haunted vocals, Rimane Solo concluding with a delightful barrage of noise.

We then get our first sense of how the rest of this is going to shape up, if, at this point, erring towards harsher versions of it: Petits os déshérités is clicking, chaotic ambience; Ostinato des parades is a nigh-danceable electro-first stomp. At a high level, the remainder of the album switches off between ambience and tracks that forefront digital sounds over analog ones, but the main shift in both cases is in how tame these takes become from hereon out. The ambience is more appropriately ambient, and when unnatural noises peek in, the production and presentation makes it all a bit too clean; it’s way too clear these are samples ushered in by a keystroke, and not the fits of oddities we might’ve heard on prior album. The “stomp” of the other tracks is primarily replaced by a padded, digital beat, or a beat produced with faux warmth. Careil coos, and even calmly speaks over a track.

It’s all very… pretty. And soothing. Like a lullaby, admittedly. But if the Two Worlds are represented by the more abrupt compositions on the A-side, evening out the balance a bit more across the four sides of the album may’ve improved Berceuses’ reception with me. On the other hand, perhaps a new listener might view those openers as the test to get to more directly pleasant efforts. From my bias take, those “efforts” are ultimately less unique sounding – there are proxies in a lot of softpop indie rockers of this same era – whereas the crunch of the A-side, even with some edges rounded, is still a more compelling listen.