Proponent of the chiaroscuro (the art of balancing light and shadow to reveal truth and emotion) and the intertwining of shades and influences, the French trio PERL follows their own personal trajectory, at the frontiers of post-metal, post-black, indie rock and way more. This album is their fourth, and it has seven songs. "Au Royaume des songes" is first, and it opens with atmospheric tones and the heavy thump of bass guitars. It's dark, tentative, and tense. The female vocals are gentle, and somewhat somber. It reaches a steady groove and you can hear an emotional rise in the vocals. A dark weight comes next, with tortured vocals that scream seemingly out of nowhere, and then retreats once again. The sky is ever-shifting, like the winds of an approaching storm.

"Naufragée des nuages" rages out of the gates, with shouted, angry vocals, and a thick bed of guitars and bass. But, the rage is washed by gentler tones, while tension is still held suspended in the background. "Fjara" is a SOLSTAFIR cover, and it's elegantly done. The French language is easy on the ears of a westerner because of the way the language flows, with soft consonants and rounded vowels. It's a firm offering, but also very melodic, and those sultry saxophone notes add seasoning to what is a very emotional ending. "La chute" has gentle guitar tones and shouted, raging vocals, and this contrast encapsulates the album in many ways. Again it settles, but like a person scorned, it lays in wait. It returns with a fire that you just can't extinguish.

"Arcipelgo" begins with a steady electronic pulse and a lot of tension. It floats in the space that is somewhere between the light and the dark, or the living and the dead, and it has a gentle, soothing sound that is also oddly unsettling at times. "Përl, Sam Pillay - Land's End" also has a tense opening. The vocals are taut…and uneasy, shifting to pure rage at times, and the music moves easily from darkness to light and then back. "Que l'éclat fasse demeure" is the final song, and after all of the jam-packed emotion of the previous songs, you finally have a chance to breathe. But don't look for absolution here, because it is nowhere to be found. The sound darkens just after the halfway mark, and what seemed safe, doesn't any longer. It ends on notes of anger and frustration.

The album title translates to "architecture of vertigo" in English, producing imagery of dizzying heights, disorientation, and awe, suggesting something grand, overwhelming, and perhaps both beautiful and unsettling. This is exactly how the music made me feel. Much of the album was drenched in somber tones, with occasional peaks of light, but they managed to keep it buried in shadows and in the realm of mystery. It was definitely an engaging listen for me.