Zoviet France is one of those elusive bands that are read about more than actually heard. Most of their music falls under industrial ambient, and the sounds are all exclusively analog. Utilizing tape effects and other assorted instrumentation, their prolific output veers between sublime and indulgent.
This particular release, from 85-86 recordings, displays a bit of both, though it does tend to indulge itself a little too much, particularly in the Scene 2. You begin things in the first scene, with a series of well-prepared tape loops. Sadly, a lot of tape experiments age poorly, and this one might have had a bit more captivating in the 80s.
What comes up next is probably my least favorite. Scene 2 goes on for too long, with way too much aimlessness. I understand that their intention is to make this sort of industrial Shaman-like music, an almost spiritual sort of mediation. But here it could’ve been edited down into a really solid 10 minute track rather than sprawling around for a whole half hour. Honestly, at times it feels like the members remembered “Oh shit, we better add some new directions for this”.
After Scene 2 I almost gave up on this, throwing it to the wayside never to hear of it again. But I decided to trough through the Scene 3 and Scene 4. Scene 3 didn’t offer anything exceptional but Scene 4 grabbed me. Its ghostly presence felt completely appropriate. Each little pattern and sound came in at the precisely right time. Had the whole album had this level of quality, of supernatural embodiments of decay, I might have given it a much higher rating.
Sadly though, a lot of this feels very dated or aimless. This is a bit sad since most of what I had heard of early Zoviet France felt far more engaging.