There’s a distinctive quality about French black metal that hints at its creators’ origin—and I don’t mean the language the lyrics are written in. It’s a sort of warmth that soaks into the guitar sound, which can alternately feel like roaring flames, spooky ethereality, or quaint mellifluousness depending on its implementation. Given this, it’s almost surprising that no one has done what Dysylumn do, and coalesced these interpretations into one. The shadowy, southern-France duo have quietly garnered a loyal fanbase in the black metal underground with an atmospheric black metal that borrows as much from the dissonant and avant-garde as it does the trve and classically melodic sub-genres. After dropping an epic double LP in 2020’s Cosmogonie, Dysylumn’s return with the comparatively miniature Abstraction is seemingly to remind us that they’re still out there, in the darkness. But what does it portend?
Abstraction is deliberately and appropriately titled. Formed of five numbered eponymous tracks, its structure invites interpretation as multiple processes of some coherent whole. This is further borne out by the style of the music itself, which manifests as a sprawling, semi-dissonant form of atmospheric black metal akin to putting Blut Aus Nord through a Mare Cognitum filter. In a progressive and sempiternal manner peculiar to the genre, melodies reprise and fall away behind echoing shouts and wails—sometimes creating a sound reminiscent of a more abstract Abduction[2. the UK one]—and movements are marked more by variation on the central theme than by special transformation—with some notable exceptions (“III,” “IV”). Its reverb and fuzz-laden tremolo, graceful yet uncomfy rhythm swaps, and frequent, impassioned throat-singing may demand patience and tolerance to the uninitiated. But it doesn’t damn Abstraction to the indistinct void; it creates one of its own.
If there’s anything Dysylumn have nailed with Abstraction, it’s the aura of mystique. By harnessing both the other-worldliness of unusual melody and moaning harsh vocals, and the ethereality of a subtly poignant, spacious atmoblack, the duo create a space simultaneously warm and cold. It’s weird, but it kind of works. You might be shivering at a weird high guitar line (“I,” “II,” “V”) and drifting off to a surprisingly mellow one (“IV,” “V”), and at the same time. Dysylumn switch keys and tempos frequently, but in a way that’s natural, as they slip from wintry second-wave to an almost post-black hum of plucks and taps (“III,” “IV”)—all styled in a reverb-heavy, glittery veil that’s grimy and crystalline simultaneously. With impassioned screams punctuating the peaks of dreamy and intense melodies alike (“II,” “IV”). The greatest moments on Abstraction see the strange and the beautiful fully coalesce in sweeping, stringlike tremolo melodies (“III,” “V”) and dramatically escalating, blackened-doom-coded releases (“IV”), against which gurgling growls turn to throat-singing, and then full-bodied screams. It’s here that I’m fully invested in the world that Dysylumn are crafting.
Abstraction has the power to draw in its listener by being this magical combination of headily atmospheric and slightly alien. Yet it’s not until the midsection—”Abstraction”s “III” and”IV”—that this power really shows. While “I” and “II” arguably set the scene by launching immediately into frosty and floaty off-kilter scales, they are plagued by a songwriting structure that sees them endlessly iterate the same melodic patterns, switching back and forth between the same keys. This tendency reappears, though less egregiously, since the repeated key-change movement pass is forgivable when, for example, Dysylumn use it above a d-beat (“V”), and not another shuffle, or blastbeat as before. The transition, then, into the dreamlike cascades of doomier, more nuanced guitar, punctuated by affecting crashes, bellowing climaxes, and palpable urgency, that characterises the move to “III” and “IV” is stark. Dysylumn avoid discontinuity by maintaining the key threads of the hazy, half-dissonant theme that runs through the record. But the fact that the first third of a 36-minute record is its worst, and so hinders a listener’s chances of reaching the deeper, more interesting material, is frustrating and confusing. On the flipside, given the strength of the warm-cold eeriness, particularly in “I,” this is a testament to Abstraction’s generally high quality. It’s probably better for an album to improve over its runtime than deteriorate.
All things considered, Abstraction deserves your patience. Short, but not forgettable, it might lend itself most immediately to distracted introspection, as with much of atmospheric music of its ilk. Yet beyond the haze, Abstraction contains genuine weirdness that’s just beautiful and dreamlike to capture the less-extreme-inclined, and real elegance that is but a few strokes away from the avant-garde. Dysylumn are on the precipice of something wonderful; they just need to find it.
Rating: Good
DR: 9 | Format Reviewed: 320kbps mp3
Label: Signal Rex
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: October 17th, 2025
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