A preoccupied mind may look at the name Monolithe Noir and see a fairly basic reference to key figures in futuristic worlds born from the classic equation that equates sci-fi with synthesisers. But that would mean forgetting that, unlike heartless machines like robots, androids and other Replicants doomed to copy the Earthlings they barely understand, Kubrick's monolith in 2001, which inspired Antoine Pasqualini with the name, is a far more subtle proposition. The opaque totem balancing in the midst of burgeoning humanity is both the concrete embodiment of the outer reaches mystery and the dark mirror of our animality. It's freezing and boiling, edgy and organic, extraterrestrial and terribly familiar. These points of friction and powerful paradoxes run through Monolithe Noir's new LP too. They take us on an endless winding road weaving between synthetic severity, experimental achievements and acoustic jolts that run, pile and collide into each other with no apologies for not choosing just one of these worlds.

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