Present lite? Those familiar with the dark and ominous -- even relentless -- Belgian avant-proggers might scoff at that notion, but the sophomore album by
Roger Trigaux's quartet does loosen the reins at least slightly in comparison to the protracted assault of the band's debut,
Triskaïdékaphobie. Yes,
Le Poison Qui Rend Fou's two-part title track (inspired by one of the stories in cartoonist Hergé's Les Aventures de Tintin comic book series) has its share of tense arpeggios, emphatic keyboard chord stabs, astringent harmonics, and
Fripp-ish "Prince Rupert's Lament"-style guitar sustain across its 25-minute duration. But overall,
Le Poison is more diverse and sometimes lighter -- if no less rigorous -- than
Present's debut. The quartet of guitarist
Trigaux (who also plays Fender Rhodes), keyboardist
Alain Rochette, drummer
Daniel Denis, and bassist
Ferdinand Philippot (replacing
Triskaïdékaphobie's
Christian Genet) still churns out arpeggiated structures of steadily building and retreating intensity, and
Denis is an endlessly inventive nonstop propulsion machine. But there are also left turns reflecting a nimble quality, with the bandmembers a bit less locked into a post-minimalist aesthetic: an unusual touch is provided by the wide interval-leaping, classical/art song-flavored soprano vocal by guest
Marie-Anne Polaris on "Le Poison Qui Rend Fou, Pt. 1"; later in the track
Rochette imbues a solo piano break with a beautiful jazzy quality, continuing that thread even after the other bandmembers enter and transform the music into a metal-tinged dirge; and "Le Poison Qui Rend Fou, Pt. 2" commences with a demented circusy waltz.