Turpitude - Une interprétation de la dissolution glaciale en quatre mouvements (Moonworshipper)
Turpitude first appeared on my radar back in 2020 when they quietly dropped their debut album Bruma hiémale, a rickety but articulate take on lo-fi Canadian atmoblack. Although the record didn't shy away from the kind of curlicued melodicism that has come to define the Quebecois style, it also flirted with a queasy, Yellow Eyes-esque dissonance that diverged from the like-minded but more decadent clamor of bands like Departure Chandelier, Monarque, or Forteresse. The production was half-baked, and the programmed drums occasionally unwieldy, but the band exploited access to a seemingly endless supply of giddy tremolo riffs. More importantly, however, they played the shit out of them.
The first thing I noticed when I threw on Une interprétation de la dissolution glaciale en quatre mouvements was the renovated production. While the debut suffered from a tinny mix that unfairly censored any textural nuance, the sophomore effort sounds spacious and fine-spun, a quality-of-life improvement that widens the sonic panorama and cleanses it of grimdark aesthetics. These deloused frequency dynamics amplify the band's fidgety energy and even permit an appreciable low-end—the now audible bass goose-steps with an unflappable surf rock pluck that recalls the psych-black slink of bands like Jordablod or Fluisteraars. It's immediately evident that there's a human behind the drumkit, too. The breakneck tom fills that blow the doors off of "Mvt. I: Vivace" sound monstrous compared to the mechanical thumps and clicks that ferried the debut. Turpitude have never sounded more confident, and they've efficiently min-maxed their guerilla black metal (BM) build while finding a unique voice. Like Vanum's alpine grandeur commingling with the smoldering decadence of Eos, their newfound style is steely-eyed, effusive, and thunders with elemental fury.