It's fitting that Eric Burton — the man behind the Rabit guise — named this album after Baudelaire's notorious collection of symbolist poetry. Les Fleurs du Mal is a grim, almost nihilistic take on dance floor culture, an exercise in sound design and musique concrète.
Tumbling about violently, the beats are employed sparingly and may even be nonexistent, merely imagined by the listener. The samples employed are sinister and chill to the bone, culminating in the frighteningly obtuse collage "Dogsblood Redemption." As this particular piece begins, a baby is either laughing hysterically or shrieking in terror, as a man experiences agonizing torture. Jim Morrison espouses "you're all a bunch of fuckin' slaves," and a couple copulates. The track ends with a jarring fade to black, as Burton withholds a satisfying conclusion from his audience.
"Bleached World," with its layers of almost buoyant synth melody, offers a brief respite from the bleakness before it too dissolves into a cloud of damaged drone. The cacophony of whispers featured on closing track "Elevation" might just bring about a psychotic break in those with fragile souls.
Folks hoping for a repeat of Rabit's 2015 pseudo-grime offering Communion will certainly be disappointed here; open-minded listeners with a penchant for the darker side of experimental dance music will find their thirst for evil slaked. (Halcyon Veil)