why we love this

Patterns rupture like a mirror shattering in slow motion. Arrhythmically confounding in rewarding ways. If you’ve ever wondered about the percussive qualities of oyster shells, this record holds your answer.

about the record

Sommé-e is like the setting in sound of stories that we have yet to imagine. The frenetic opening track, "Pas élevé, se nourrit", begins with almost nothing—two sticks, three ceramic tiles—but eleven minutes in, we hear a world being conjured into existence, a whole theatre of storms and chases in which asian sonorities and spectres surround us.

The apparent chaos of the second piece, "D’Humeur à savoir", answers the rhythmic regularity of the first. The percussion becomes spasmodic, the dance that it sketches evoking the unpredictable gestures of animals on the alert: static one moment, in motion the next, without transition. Insect-like noises mingle with the lopsided footfall of an electronic pachyderm. Everything ends with a bell ringing, and this same sound opens the next track: "Directement, au voleur", a long piece of seventeen full minutes.

Here, Geoffroy takes his time. First, there is silence. The stage is being set. A brassy drone, like the ghost of a gong, becomes a reptilian undulation. Then a rhythm emerges: it is regular, tribal. An unexpected electronic thunderclap gives the signal, then a menacing tribe multiplies and fans out: on the left, on the right. Surrounded on all sides, deep in the jungle, we wonder how we're ever going to escape...and then comes the climax of this sonic tale: a moment of trance, and of pagan sacrifice.