7/10

There’s a striking sense of origin behind Anthony Cedric Vuagniaux's 'Danse avec le tonnerre'. It's that flash of proximity to something uncontrollable that seems to echo throughout the entire record, shaping a sound that feels both grounded in craft and charged with unpredictability.

Musically, the album leans into a distinctly cinematic palette, drawing on the tonal warmth and texture of analogue-era production. Synths hum with a soft grain, tape saturation adds a lived-in quality, and organic elements are woven together with a careful sense of space. There’s a clear devotion to process here as everything is built from the ground up, performed and assembled with intention, giving the record a cohesive and personal identity.

Tracks like 'Joli Cheval' and 'Les fleuves du déni' highlight this balance between structure and atmosphere. The arrangements feel expansive but never excessive, allowing melodic ideas to unfold gradually. There’s a poetic sensibility guiding the compositions, creating a sense of movement that feels closer to storytelling than traditional songwriting.

The title piece, 'Danse avec le tonnerre', captures the entire essence of the project. It carries a subtle tension, as though something is always just beneath the surface, and it’s this restraint that gives the music its depth. Rather than leaning into dramatic peaks, Vuagniaux allows emotion to accumulate slowly, building a quiet intensity that lingers.

What makes the album particularly compelling is its commitment to authenticity. In an era where digital precision often dominates, 'Danse avec le tonnerre' embraces the imperfections; the slight inconsistencies of tape, the human touch in performance, and the spaces between sounds. And it's these details define the listening experience.

Ultimately, 'Danse avec le tonnerre' captures the fleeting moment of something intense, immediate, and difficult to articulate, and translates it into sound with quiet precision.