Here is something from 2009 that demands revisiting, for the personnel if nothing else. Miserere Luminis is a collaboration between Gris and Sombres Forêts, and as such represents a veritable supergroup of depressing and chilly Quebecois black metal. The mark of both bands is apparent- they seem to share a penchant for long, wandering epics- though in the fuzzy frailty of the guitar tone and its emphasis on tearful ambiance I think it feels closer to the former. It is a perplexing and uneven album, but it is also, predictably, subtly layered with moments of wintry beauty.

Opener Cineris immediately invokes the ethereal grace of Gris’s highly-regarded Il Était une Forêt..., with a lone, gentle piano progression floating lyrically like a warmer and less alien equivalent to the haunting synth elements used to open that record. As can perhaps be expected with such a project, this piano loop is soon drowned in layers of crackling depressive black metal fuzz. The tempo remains slow, like a hypothermic heartbeat, and the rich tonality is allowed to bleed mournfully through, making for a piercing and poignant opening track. The piano is a recurrent element, and often tends to give the record an acoustic feel far away from Gris’s frosty electronica- as with Senectus, which places the instrument centre state, but surrounded by weird and warped sound effects. Another monument to the virtues of subtlety and restraint.

But again, as with its constituent parts, a strikingly controlled opening gives way to a more freely wandering spirit over the remaining 55 minutes. This is perhaps where it starts to confuse- there often seem to be too many elements at work, which don’t always fit with the austere power hinted at in the first few minutes, and some of which seem painfully clashing. The title track is perhaps the worst offender. It repeatedly switches around too suddenly, from striding black metal thunder to moments of relative calm. The pretty, folky acoustic instrumentation that surfaces throughout is defiled somewhat by the hacking, retching Nattram-vocals, as well as the excessively busy drum fills. The voices, in particular, sit uneasily with me at times, as if the artists struggle to really find a way of subtly developing the unique elements of their sound. Still, perhaps these things are the unfortunate obverse of a praiseworthy struggle for depth and expression. Certainly there is plenty to discover elsewhere. IV has a crunching doom metal feel, which works extremely well when combined with more characteristic gentle interludes. This is one of the compositions that holds together most strongly, particularly as we build throughout to a bitingly metallic climax.

Miserere Luminis is an adventurous album which sometimes feels a little over-ambitious, and consequently cluttered or jolting. Fans of the two projects involved will likely love it, particularly Gris. I can’t help but feel, however, that this type of music is at its best when it keeps to the glacial simplicity as demonstrated in the opening track.