La Mer - Tetrahedra
Blackened... Butt Rock?
A Scot, French sensibilities, and a Polish record label walked into a bar. Thus came forth Tetrahedra: an avant-garde blend of black’n’roll, synthwave, and Aughts-era angst. I don’t know how I feel about this album, and for that alone, it deserves recognition.
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Upon my first listen, I audibly said “what the fuck” several times, in public. Each time was followed by a shake of the head and a resigned chuckle. While La Mer’s Tetrahedra is certainly not an album for all, it may be the most approachable and unique black’n’roll that I’ve heard in a long time.
The bands’ French name is complemented pretty heavily by the cover art. It’s a post-impressionist portrait called Berenice, painted by Henri Martin - a Frenchmen. The painting itself is inspired by the Edgar Allan Poe story of the same name. However, the artwork’s relation to the themes of the album is lost on me, if there is any.
I won’t mislead you: this album is not for the average black metal fan. If you’re a fan of progressive one-man black metal, such as Ihsahn and Thy Catafalque, then you may enjoy your time with this album. For those who wander into the strange world of avant-garde metal, this album may seem tame. That said, it’s not without the wackiness of French acts like Igorrr or öOoOoOoOoOo.
On the other side, the Second Wave Circlejerk would have an absolute fit at the notion of this falling into the halls of black metal. Oh well - fuck ‘em. For a group of elitists, many are boring rubes with a preference for bland composition and blind contrarianism.
Despite the detours into affability, the blackened elements are all there. The atmospheric buzzsaw guitar tones, visceral shrieking, and a tendency towards religious angst do well to anchor the sound, even after veering into butt-rock inspired hooks delivered through a Corey Taylor-esque voice.
Yes, I did just say there are elements of butt-rock. This is Blackened Butt Rock. Every other track, the lyrics lead into “hashtag deep” silliness that could only be pegged insightful by a teenage boy living through the early Aughts. For example, on Last One Out, the hook croons “Let’s do it tonight - a slow suicide. Last one out, turn out the lights.”
Look out, Jacoby Shaddix.
On the track Death Dogs: “I’’ll stab you with the knife you left lodged in my back.“ This particular track climbs to a hilarious chorus of “TRY ME! TRY ME! That’s right. FUCK YOU, BITCH!” I won’t throw this track away completely; it hits some pretty heavy tones. That doesn’t change the fact that it reads like a Bring Me The Horizon song.
Bear with it - cringeworthy lyrics abound, the actual execution is quite impressive. At times, the vocals do hit an edge that sounds far more intense than anything ever achieved by the pretension of bands like Drowning Pool.
Thankfully, the sound is various enough to not wear you out on the more laughable moments. There’s a distinct synthwave bent. One of my favorite tracks on the album, Patina, carries this the most. With a bass line pulled straight from coldwave, the melodic saw waves layered with smokey vocals combat all preceding angst with a marked mature introspection. This pattern carries, with each moment of amusing angst punctuated by introspection and atmospheric riffing. Rinse-and-repeat. It’s very hard to believe that this continuous counterbalance throughout the album wasn’t intentional, hinting at a very methodical approach to the writing.
Overall, the cheesiness feels very intentional, like a campy horror film. It’s as if Jeremi, the man behind La Mer, is striving for universal likability while still putting forward something unique. While there’s a lot to poke at, the whole album is sturdy enough that levying a blanket criticism over the superficial elements would only demonstrate ignorance around what it means to be a great composer. Jeremi is a great composer.
The apparent thoughtfulness behind the arrangement eventually mooted any of my own perception of shallowness in the lyrics. I’m more inclined to see the lyrics as extremely earnest. In a world still wearing the stink of post-modern detachment, the forward and simplistic expression feels strange amidst a sound so adjacent to black metal. Sometimes, emotions really aren’t that deep, and attempting to boil it down to some grand statement on something so typical as a shattered male ego renders away any meaning. I don’t think I would have spent much time with this album if Jeremi had instead opted for more cliché verses comprised of metaphors and esotericism.
I really would like to rip on this album more, but I can’t do that in earnest. There are indeed moments of intense cheese wrought by the lyricism. However, it’s hard to say these moments are truly bad, as they are often underpinned by very well-composed instrumentation.
Frequently, Tetrahedra strikes a certain catchiness that gives the feeling of “pop-y black metal”. I shudder at the very notion, but I’ll be damned if I wrote this album off for it. La Mer - or Jeremi - has asserted himself as a very unique musician. I doubt I would count Tetrahedra among my favorite albums of the year, but it’s at the top of my list for approachable acts to offer those wading into the murkier waters of black metal.