I say coming up Milhouse ironically of course, as 2022 was another shit-show, let’s be honest, but we ARE going to revisit Mulhouse, a far-eastern region of France, (See my tedious link there?) where we reacquaint ourselves with today’s band; SEXBLOOD. Dubbed the French Manchester, or Franchester as I called it, we discovered that Mulhouse, was an industrial town/city with a rich history in vehicle engineering and locomotives. With museums dedicated to each respectively, it’s only natural, they developed their own dreary indie/post-punk scene, just as Manchester had done with JOY DIVISION and THE SMITHS, for example.
Following on from their 2022 album “Teach Me To Cry”, which I highly recommended, Sexblood are back with their follow up album “Intimidating Visions”, but are we going to get mad for it? Il n'y a qu'une seule façon de le savoir...
We begin rather menacingly with the track “I Choose To Live In Hate”, and it's got this, deep, slowly chugging riff that gives off early, proto-doom vibes, accompanied by subtle icy synths, and even brief horn elements towards the tracks climax. It builds for this genuinely creepy yet fantastical piece of instrumentation, and it sets a darkened tone very early on. Vocally we have a sort of, hushed, lightly warbled, husky drawl that pays homage to the likes of Carl Macoy, or Andrew Eldritch, non-discernible at times, but this is a mood. There’s a bitterness to this; a sense of self-spite, politicism and despite the vocal quality being occasionally blurry, it has its Gothic charm.
We follow this up with our first album highlight; “Time Is Running Out”, and the band utilize the universally recognised sound of a heart monitor slowly flatlining to kickstart this one. It’s a trope and has been incorporated into tracks previously by the likes of TYPE-O-NEGATIVE on “Life Is Killing Me”, and ZEROMANCER’s “Dr. Online” for example, but it does help set a certain narrative, adding character to the composition. We’re greeted then with simplistic percussion, wonderfully light melodies and more nostalgic 80’s post-punk sensibilities. The guitar work coming out of the chorus reminds of “Temple Of Love” for example, as Abel De Beauvoir sings of mortality, and the choices you make as the sands run down. Moral questions and self-reflection, as you look within yourself as death looms, and it’s thought provoking.
Further highlights include “Doctor Death”, which houses more of the same, catchy post-punk aesthetics instrumentally; clap-along percussion, prominent basslines, nicely layered synths and plenty of hooks that would leave Slimelight swaying away like a coked-up colony of bats. Speaking of things hanging, the song is about Harold Shipman, who had over 200 confirmed victims, making him one of the world's most prolific serial killers. But, sometimes, you’ve got to make a bunch of vulnerable, elderly patients overdose in order for Goth bands to write funky songs about you twenty years later, no? PhD officially stands for posthumous dance along. (Look I know he was just a GP, but I committed to the bit, OK, deal with it).
It’s safe to say that Sexblood haven’t veered too far from the formula that they established on their debut. “The Meat Wagon” has a wonderfully bass-driven level of dark funk with icy-synthesized elements that’s VERY SISTERS OF MERCY in places. “Out Of The Dark” houses an edgier guitar tone that bolsters their classic post-punk delivery for a more rocking, energetic track. “Walpurgis Night” is an ode to Germanic Catholicism, warding off witchcraft and other priorities such as, whooping cough. (You can deep dive that one yourselves I’m not going into over a thousand years of religious history here). Bonfires are lit to deter evil spirits, unlike here in the UK, where we light bonfires on November 5th in memory of Guy Fawkes, who was THIS close, to burning down Parliament, where all of the real evil spirits congregate.
There are some lesser tracks, in all honesty, but they don’t spoil the album as such. “The Dust” is quite a slow, methodical piece that just, creeps along with a sense of spookiness within the synth presentation. I’m not saying it GATHERS dust, but you get the idea. The title track is a little underwhelming sadly. With its name you’d expect something a little more intense, more akin to the aforementioned highlights, but it's really quite mellow and casual. It’s about as intimidating as the current wave of youths wearing balaclavas, carrying glorified purses riding E-Scooters, listening to 21 SAVAGE or any other generic excuse for a rapper. Less wannabe gangster, more underage gimp. They round things off with an incredibly disquieting version of the French nursery rhyme “Maudit Carillonneur”, which I believe means “Curse You Bell-Ringer". From morn till’ night he rings the bells, tormenting those within hearing distance, driving them insane. Or something, I don’t know it’s in French, it’s probably just Quasimodo frantically pulling the cord in the disabled toilet at Notre Dame.
Essentially, what Sexblood have delivered here is another fine mortuary slab of old-school Gothic rock. They very effortlessly keep that post-punk sound alive and well, breathing fresh life into such a niche genre, without sounding dated, or out of place. Goth as a term is multi-faceted, and you will always find people lean certain ways to what they believe Goth represents, be it musically, visually, stylistically, hell even architecturally and historically, but in terms of no-nonsense, mood-driven, aesthetically macabre yet melodic alternative music, Sexblood are keeping the genre alive and well. I can’t say I’m intimidated, but I CAN say that I am continually impressed by Sexblood’s output. A murder in the bleu, blanc rouge morgue if you will? Très bien. [7]