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Despite a French language name, The Black Song originally from Brazil. The trio – made up of multi-instrumentalist Leonardo D. Pagani, bassist / guitarist Mantus and singer Kaiaphas (ex-Ancient) – is undoubtedly Francophile, but musically Le Chant Noir haunts the same mystical but melodic realms (occupied with a given time) by Gehenna (Norway), Opera IX (Italy) and Diabolical Masquerade (Sweden). Indeed, it is melodic / symphonic black metal, gothic not orchestral variety. What sounds like a tribute to mid-90s European black metal is actually an extension of it, decades later, but moderately improved through improved musicianship and production techniques.
Throughout the new Chant Noir album, La Satanic Society of Dead Poets, they pick up occult strings, with keyboards and melodies guiding in (and out) the proverbial fog of black metal. It’s the same endless chain that Cradle of Filth picked up as they ventured out of demo form and into Decibel Hall of Fame Album, The principle of evil made flesh. While most of The Black Song’s push is in sub-blastbeat tempi, there are plenty of points where they slow down, crumble, as if possessed by the ghosts of My Dying Bride and fellow countrymen. long-standing Mythological Cold Towers. Songs like “Night of Hell”, “The Vampire” and “The Dance of Death” oscillate between the quickest death and the coldest funeral.
Dire Le Chant Noir: “The title, The Satanic Society of the Dead Poets, is kind of a pun on The Society of the Dead Poets. The Society of Satanic Dead Poets. I used this title because most of the lyrics on this album are adaptations of poems and works by French poets such as Charles Baudelaire, Arthur Rimbaud and others. There was a very strong interest in Satanism, vampirism and the occult in France, especially in the 19th century. This is the concept of this album. Dark French cabaret atmosphere.
Corrupted crescents and disgusting reblochon, Le Chant Noir offers via a ruined statue of Christ the Redeemer the entire album stream of The Satanic Society of the Dead Poets. God damn it …
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