Power outage. Total shutdown of all functions. Floating vital signs. Where does the past stop and the future begin, how is the present defined? Fuck The Facts returns after five years with Pleine Noirceur, an album flooding consciences with its extremely well-calculated darkness. The grindcore storm from Gatineau delivers a product that sometimes drifts towards blackgaze, tech-death, but always remains firmly rooted in its preferred style.
Melanie Mongeon’s vocal prowess soars over the ensemble with ease. Mathieu Vilandré (drums) makes skulls roll with his precise strikes. Knives cutting the fog, gagged throats, tear-gas bombs provoking immediate torrents, the riffs of Topon Das join the spirit in crisis through an architecture drawn to the millimetre. Existing since 1998, Fuck The Facts certainly still know how to break ribs, slit the chest, and go for the beating heart.
Are they revolutionaries chanting slogans to open minds, or law enforcement officers trying to appease social turmoil? In our opinion, they’re both; two sides of the same coin, both protestors and protectors, an entity with multiple layers, beings with complex strata and metamorphic colours.
Pleine Noirceur… total darkness? A massive generator and connection to the source.
