Despite being one of the first entities to dabble in the juxtaposition of beauty and brutality that came to be known as blackgaze, Alcest have always been best understood as a singular, solitary force. Neige, very much the main man here in that he plays everything except the drums, originally conceived the band as a way to reflect childhood visions of an uncanny, euphoric nature. And while his last couple of records foregrounded a certain foreboding, influenced by dark events in the real world, Les Chants De L’Aurore finds the clouds clearing to let the brightness shine through once more.
The result is a collection of vibrantly melodic pieces with an emphasis on the uplifting. Feelings of hopefulness and optimism are threaded through Komorebi and L’Envol; while the occasional passage of double-kick action from drummer Winterhalter adds momentum to the positivity, an unexpected burst of guttural growl on the latter marks one of the album’s reminders of Alcest’s more metallic side. Améthyste is perhaps the closest thing here to archetypal blackgaze, its wintry guitar lines possessed of shimmering grandeur. In contrast, Flamme Jumelle sits in a gentler space between dream-pop and alt.rock.