Torngat

There's so much distortion emanating from Montreal trio Torngat's new album it's as though their latest songs were captured in a factory, accompanied by whirring machinery and emotional unrest. Distance and separation have been utilized by the band previously, however they've never been more eager to please (both listeners and themselves), rather than be exclusive. The darkness on La Petite Nicole is relative but it's definitely there, with beams of light flickering through for good/dramatic measure. Haunting keyboards and industrial percussion buzz about "Interlude" and the monstrous "L'ecole Pénitencier," which have the poise and weight of a scene by Stanley Kubrick. The music is pervasive and disturbing, with harmlessly titled tunes like "Afternoon Moon Pie" becoming more sinister by the second. Torngat have revelled in joy before - one drawn from forming their compositions with a brotherly effortlessness - but La Petite Nicole is born of a ragged tension drawn from a fascinating new plane.