The artwork, misty and cold, sets the scene. Influenced by the name of the band, Colmaar, the listener can already imagine the forests of the Vosges at dusk, the smell of pine trees turning deep green to black, the ruins of castles and the oppressive remains of trenches from the First World War. Mysteries, relics, nature, winter, fog... The East of France is not known for its humor. Be warned, though, there's nothing Alsatian about Colmaar: they are actually the Swiss band When Icarus Falls continuing their adventure with a new name and a debut album, Eternel.
While the continuity is blatant and the inevitable influences mentioned have not changed (Cult of Luna, Neurosis), the mutation is obvious. Initiatique and its hypnotic loops impose a mystical solemnity, paving the way for the texts recited by Diego Mediano, between spoken-word and raging invective, an extension of what he hinted at at the end of When Icarus Falls' last album, Resilience, firmly establishing the project's identity. Then comes the storm: Colmaar plunges to the depths and proves to be as heavy as it is menacing, with a sense of contrast and dizzying turmoil a la Amenra.
Oneiric, anguished, desperate: Colmaar is a bit of all of these as the tracks flow organically together, keeping us in a chilly haze where contemplation and introspection taste like mourning. The choice of French is a wise one: suspended by the lyrics, we are all the more captivated by the music, whose breaths demonstrate a mastery of tension that is as subtle as it is intractable (Implacable). Eternel sometimes feels like a funeral procession, like Hypnotique and its heavy rhythm repeated tirelessly as the storm rumbles louder and louder, or the end of the album to which Funeste and Epilogue give a whiff of renunciation. There's no point in fighting, there's only defeat, regret, ruin and ghosts, Colmaar have made sure of that along the way. The explosions of anger, the thickness of the bass and the more flamboyant assaults of the guitars seem like the last desperate jolts of a body in agony: we knew it from the start and this story of the Vosges forest in the fog, this album isn't here to make us dance.
Eternel is a fascinating whole that plays on repetition and rhythmic breaks to obliterate the notion of time and rush through our ears in one go, and it's the kind of journey that leaves you dizzy. Intense and visceral, with its air of cathartic ritual, funerary rite, lost battle or wandering through a dark forest in winter, it's also an album that gives collapse a monumental dimension. What a beautiful storm to welcome the long nights of the season to come!
