‘J’ris de toi pour pas pleurer, pour pas trop désespérer, que tu puisses encore croire, que tout le monde devrait vouloir, exploiter, commander, dominer’ (C’est Qui Le Patron?) / ‘I’m laughing at you so as not to cry, so as not to despair too much, that you can still believe, that everyone should want to exploit, command, dominate’ (Who’s The Boss?)

Aqua Tofana was an intense, essentially undetectable poison that first emerged in 17^th century Italy.  It gained notoriety as the poison of choice for women looking to kill their husbands, both due to its difficulty to trace, and the fact that its slow acting nature allowed victims to prepare for their deaths.

Given this context, it comes as no surprise that the debut album from this Parisian trio is a fierce, unequivocal denunciation of the patriarchal conventions that continue to distort much of society, a slow violence with sometimes deadly consequences.  The band’s sound is one that straddles both the restless invention of art punk and the juddering rhythms of progressive hardcore, laced with flares of sombre melody.  It is a stripped back palette, yet one that is also characterised by a notable sense of theatre.

This dramatic inclination is stridently amplified by a virtuoso vocal performance that sees the delivery sweep from the playfully teasing to the sardonically quizzical, and from the quietly reflective to the unquenchably raging, all with an impressively fluid dexterity.  The sinister unfurling of Dégâts (Damage) and the grunge fuelled fury of C’est Qui Le Patron? (Who’s The Boss), perhaps, perfectly embody the album’s unsettling, shapeshifting essence.