Cimerion is a dungeon synth project of Canadian artist Monarque, a prominent figure in the Québecois Black Metal scene who has dabbled in several niche music genres. The discography for this project shows he has a knack for creating astral soundscapes, which I have a soft spot for. Still, I think Contresort is his magnum opus in this regard.

Even though it’s easy to label his music as a variety of Dungeon Synth combined with the Berlin school inspired music, his compositions show he also draws outside the lines of classic dungeon synth. The main influence seems to come from Vangelis; it's very prevalent, so much so that I would not be surprised if the album itself is a tribute of sorts (Vangelis passed away in 2022). This is a guess of mine, however, so do not quote me on this. 😉

I applaud Monarque for keeping true to the French language. Even though I prefer English in a literary sense, the use of French makes it more distinct than it otherwise would have been. As a Belgian living in Flanders, I am familiar with French enough to understand most of the titles, which speak for themselves in the end. I strongly recommend translating them; it will add to the immersion once you understand, I assure you. What also helps with the immersion is the excellent artwork painted by Ryan T. Hancock.

The whole record feels like a journey of sorts to me. The first song is a perfect opener for our trip. It gives the impression of us piercing the cloud of a nebula with a probe. We travel on for a short while, until we come across a world which is ancient beyond comprehension and whose surface feels utterly alien. We glimpse at it in both wonder and dread, and ask ourselves if we are being watched by otherworldly powers which remain undetected to the naked human eye. We cannot see them, but that doesn’t mean we can’t feel their psychic tendrils.

The next two songs are vastly different from the first, taking on a less grandiose approach, but nevertheless leave an innate alien feeling. Particularly “Parmi le pollen, les spores et les racines” is a terrific exercise in creating atmosphere. I can very well imagine myself lying on a bed of semi-hard mushrooms, resting whilst listening to the echo of an alien cave as floating spores enter my nostrils and do strange things to my fragile human mind. Slowly but surely, my body decomposes and becomes one with the fungi bed and I lose my individuality. An uncanny realization sets in. I’m not resisting the merging; I’m welcoming it.

“Clairvoyance du Mauvais Oeil” is way more sinister in nature than its predecessors. It starts off unassumingly enough with ambient sounds and a, until the tendrils of elder beings start picking at my brain with impunity, declaring that we have ventured too far. A figure looms in the distance as we tried to pick up the pieces of our damaged brain. Is it a cyclopean spawn of the great Azagthoth we come across? The vision is distorted, yet the danger is real. We do not know how or why, but the threat subsides.

“La forteresse de Contresort” and “Ensorcelleuse” are exemplary compositions necessary for the pacing of the record, but lack a little bit of character when compared to the other songs on this album. Still, Monarque himself speaks to us in distorted French during the former, like a dark wanderer or denizen we came across on our trip by accident and who might be the only one to help us out of this astral nightmare.

The finale is where the record really shines, however. “Sous la montagne noire” is the culmination of everything Cimerion has showed us thus far. It builds up slowly as we travel through a long underground passage, but there is a promise of a climax lying in wait. That promise is kept when we find ourselves near the top of a black mountain; a colossal landmark which is the birthplace of countless malign beings, whose many stony orifices belch forth the blackest of fumes whilst we bathe in the cold red light of the nebula. Dread sets in as we look at the tormented landscape below, yet despite our trepidations we must continue our perilous journey. Monarque goes full “Vangelis” mode here, complete with soaring keyboard melodies, deep bass, and layers which mimic choirs. I consider it a masterpiece which invokes, deliberately or not, the spirit of the late Greek master. In the end, we get to leave this alien world when we reach the summit and live to tell the tale. The sojourn has taken its toll on us, however. We will never be the same again.

The end result is a release which I come back to regularly. Highly recommended for anyone with a soft spot for the darker corners of the universe such as I.

Fenix Silvermoon approves, and declares: