Let's go back in time: at the very end of the 80s, the mood was starting to seriously sour for Skinny Puppy. The creation of Rabies with the involvement of a certain Al Jourgensen had left a bitter taste in the mouths of cEvin Key and Dwayne Goettel, who criticised Nivek Ogre for giving too much space to his new friend and spending more time on his side-projects (Pigface and Ministry, whom he accompanied on tour to defend A Mind is a Terrible Thing to Waste) than on his main band. They called on their old mate Bill Leeb, who had joined Skinny Puppy in the mid-'80s and left in 1986 to start Frontline Assembly, and together they decided to launch their own project. Cyberaktif released just one album, Tenebrae Vision, in 1991. Then life took its course: Dwayne Goettel died in 1995, Skinny Puppy split up for the first time, then reformed in the early 2000s, and Bill Leeb and cEvin Key went their separate ways, multiplying their musical adventures. But as one of Tenebrae Vision's best-known songs prophesies: "nothing stays the same"...
It wasn't until Skinny Puppy officially announced the end of its career, some forty years after its formation and with its last album already ten years old, that Cyberaktif surprisingly awoke from its slumber. cEvin Key reunited with Bill Leeb, who invited his indispensable partner Rhys Fulber (together they are also behind Noise Unit and Delerium) to form a new trio. By Key's own admission, Cyberaktif's return is based on work done for a new Skinny Puppy album that has been sleeping in a closet since 2017 or 2018...
It's no surprise, then, that eNdgame regularly refers to the 'recent' work of the Vancouver pups (particularly the albums hanDover and Weapon), between the synthetic psychedelia of Locked Away, the underlying menace of New World Awaits, the beats of You Don't Need to See, the melancholy strings of The Freight or the rhythmic beat on the aptly named Broken Through Time (a nostalgic and almost anachronistic, but amazing, concession) accompanied by a characteristically sinister scansion. Bill Leeb brings his robotic spectral voice, softer and more welcoming than Nivek Ogre's, immediately infusing the tracks with hit potential and a seductive effectiveness whatever the register (the clear voice of You Don't Need to See, the mix of poetic melancholy and unifying charisma of A Single Trace).
There's something quite exciting about listening to what these three artists have to offer: Leeb and Fulber, for their part, have never stopped experimenting with electronics, varying the pleasures and keeping up with the times (Frontline Assembly, for example, have incorporated synthwave and dubstep elements into their music). Key, who recently wondered what the 'industrial' label meant in this day and age, has found fellow players whose universe and desires are similar to his own. This eNdgame can therefore be seen as a musical laboratory free of constraints: after all, after a thirty-year absence, it's almost a new project. But while the equipment has evolved and the men behind the music are less tortured, we still find the same pleasure in playing with sounds and textures, the same taste for piling things up and giving life to strong contrasts within soft layers.
Cyberaktif's comeback is plenty satisfying. Leeb and Fulber have brought their expertise to bear in terms of efficiency: the tracks quickly get down to the essentials, despite their richness and frills. Pulsating rhythms, a sound that embraces the strange without plunging into the uncomfortable or unpleasant, a variety of moods and a balance that is always subtle where contemplative layers and harder rhythms meet. It's regularly amusing to see how the relative lightness of a track can suddenly be corrupted or gain momentum (Bitter End, In Deinem Träumen). Leeb's voice serves as a multi-faceted binder that is at once rough and soft, eerie and familiar. After driving eNdgame to a frenzy, the trio leave us with Splot, a track haunted by a discreet gloomy melody, layers of samples and a bittersweet minimalist build-up that's surprisingly moving: it's at once bizarre and touching, hallucinatory and beautiful, like an eight-legged cyber-baby covered with dead eyes drifting off into the sunset.
With eNdgame, Cyberaktif always stimulates our curiosity: there's always a surprise, a find, an unexpected element that grafts itself on or tips a track into a different register. By opting for structures that are easy to assimilate and enjoy, the trio combine their ambitions for freedom with their know-how when it comes to hooking the listener. The album goes off in all directions, yet is tamed and mastered. The effect, for its part, is exhilarating. The roots of this electro/industrial acid trip are obviously obvious, but Cyberaktif's approach is resolutely modern. Let's hope we don't have to wait another three decades to hear from them again!
