The more seasoned listeners will hardly be surprised. As for the young padawans, well — they might be. Just a little. The central figure of this piece is not who you’d expect. When the gymnopedic finally meets William (Gibson), one might expect a Big Bang of considerable magnitude. But no — it’s more of a family gathering, if we’re counting distant cousins.
Besides, we have neither the will nor the intention to offer even the faintest explanation. Doing so would require going back to the dawn of a rather exhilarating 20th century.
Let’s move on, if you will, to the so-called serious or essential matters (delete as appropriate).
The artwork is as compelling as the above paragraph is confusing — a postmonitory holographic shimmer. The next 24 minutes and 30 seconds are in sight. Attentive listening will follow, sooner or later.
Allegory? More like a vision. That of a Norman musician wandering a road paved with bluish shards, abandoned Arduino boards, and neon lights in search of lost time — and the salvatory spark. Returning to a work, undertaken last year, Antoine Trauma alarms no one, mind you; he states, right from the opening of the case, his weapon of choice, the perfectly calibrated BPM, and the quarrelsome riff. There's no collage to be found. Juxtaposition? A sketch, at best. Here, deliberate plugging-in is the rule. No intention, thankfully, of resurrecting a bargain-bin Gary Numan. A noble gesture. So what remains? Probably some misplaced Internet Background Noise and a wave of nostalgia for the unmistakable hum of a 56k modem connecting to the old world. Nothing more. This mountain gave birth to a charming — albeit tiny — mouse.What might actually seduce us is the crack. The one that vibrates between piano chords too slow for this century, and cold frequencies that have lost all faith in pop. Antoine Trauma walks a tightrope stretched across a badly wired Ethernet cable. Nothing here is direct. Everything bends and slides. Satie, defragmented by the future.
Cyberpunk? Not the one we dream of. More like a CRT desktop background, forgotten on a sleeping Pentium II.
A kind of glitch-laced melancholy.
thierry massard // 19 avril 2025
