Nuit D'Encre - Sans Maux Dire
NUIT D’ENCRE RELEASES BRUTALLY BEAUTIFUL ‘SANS MAUX DIRE’
Based in Paris, France, industrial/sludge/doom artist Nuit D’Encre (Night of Ink) will officially release Sans Maux Dire (Without Harm Say), his debut album, on March 13.
Nuit D'Encre
Recorded, mixed, and mastered by Edgard Chevallier at Lower Tones Place Studio, Nuit D’Encre is Franswa Felt, who composed all the songs and plays guitar, bass, and machines on the album.
Fascinated by sound and rhythm, Franswa began playing guitar when he was 14-years-old. By the time he was 16, he and his brother had formed a cover band, playing songs from Metallica, AC/DC, Black Sabbath, and Pantera.
Later, he began writing original riffs, blending groove-metal, sludge, and doom into thick, dread-filled music mirroring influences from Crowbar, Neurosis, Cult of Luna, Godflesh, and Lamb of God. After journeying through an arduous phase in his personal life, Franswa resolved to write and record his first album as Nuit D’Encre.
Like a musical Ridley Scott, Franswa employs juxtapositions of subterranean guitars against softly glistening counterpoints.
Franswa was kind enough to provide information about his gear: on the album, he plays a guitar made by REGIS SALA, a French luthier. The guitar utilizes SP Custom pickups and Skull strings.
Encompassing seven-tracks, Sans Maux Dire begins with “Mélancolie,” opening on low-slung resonant rumbling tones flowing into heavy murky guitars, and then alters, shifting to gleaming tones atop a crunching rhythm. Another shift back to the brawny guitars gives the tune a diorama-like discharge.
Entry points include “Regrets,” with echoes of black radiance, shimmering at first, and then descending into the abyss on fat cavernous tones. Like a musical Ridley Scott, Franswa employs juxtapositions of subterranean guitars against softly glistening counterpoints. The contrast of dark and light sonic timbres engenders delicate allusions reflecting off a tarnished yawning panorama.
“Angoisses” stutters and stammers on mega-dirty guitars, full of bottomless reverberations, as the chugging rhythm imbues the tune with hefty fibrous cadence, raw and edgy. The last track, “Souffrance,” alternates between shadowy swells of discoloration and luminous prominences, pervading the tune with agonizing aches of Prometheus chained to his rock of eternal suffering.
With Sans Maux Dire, Nuit D’Encre descends to the lowest level of Dante’s hell, projecting the tragic pavane to which all therein step.
