Album Review: Tout Brûlait by Eclypse Close – A Dark, Smoldering Masterpiece
If you’ve ever wondered what happens when New Wave meets Goth Rock under the shadowy skies of France, Tout Brûlait by Eclypse Close has your answer. Released in 2000 via Dormellia Production, this album is like that moody friend who always wears black but somehow pulls it off with a weird kind of grace. It’s not perfect—nothing truly dark ever is—but it sticks to your ribs like last night's cigarette smoke.
Let’s dive into two tracks that really stuck with me because, let’s face it, no one remembers every song on an album unless they’re lying or trying too hard.
First up is “Lèves Toi.” This track feels like waking up after a long night where everything went sideways, and someone’s shaking you saying, “Hey, get up!” The guitars have this raw edge, almost like they were recorded in a basement somewhere (maybe they were?), but there’s also this eerie melody floating above it all. You can’t help but feel both uneasy and kinda invigorated at the same time. Like… yeah, I should probably stand up now, but damn, my head hurts. And then the vocals kick in—gritty, emotional, full of that French flair for drama without being over-the-top. It’s memorable because it doesn’t try too hard; it just is. Sometimes simplicity wrapped in chaos hits harder than anything else.
Then there’s “Elle Crie”, which translates to “She Screams,” so you already know it’s gonna be intense. This one grabs you by the collar from the first note and doesn’t let go. The drums are relentless, pounding away like a heartbeat during a panic attack, while the synths add this haunting layer that makes you look over your shoulder even though you’re alone. The screaming? Yeah, it’s literal. But it’s not just noise—it tells a story. Pain, frustration, maybe even liberation? Who knows, but it gives you chills. By the end, you’re exhausted but kinda grateful for the ride.
The rest of the album keeps things interesting with tracks like “Révolution Pour Tous,” which feels like a rallying cry for anyone disillusioned with society, and “In Memoria,” which slows things down just enough to remind you how heavy emotions can weigh. There’s variety here, but it never strays too far from its core identity—a mix of gloom and rebellion that feels distinctly European.
What’s wild about Tout Brûlait is how unapologetically itself it is. Some parts sound dated (hello, early 2000s production quirks!), and others might not hit as hard depending on your mood. But isn’t that true for most things worth remembering? It’s messy, passionate, and refuses to blend into the background.
Here’s the kicker—I listened to this album late at night, headphones on, lights off. When “1999” came on, I swear I heard my cat meow in sync with the beat. Coincidence? Maybe. Or maybe Eclypse Close cast some sort of spell through their music. Either way, it made me laugh, and honestly, that’s the best endorsement I can give.
