Bad news: Frustration is increasingly misnamed. We know where it's going from the first few notes, the Parisian gang isn't there to reinvent the wheel or cold beer, and that's precisely what we hoped for. Sa-tis-fac-tion (sorry). The relative classicism of this sixth album, 'Our decisions,' quenches the thirst of fans, whose reputation precedes them (and we're not talking about the record bar revenue at La Maroquinerie). Their music is driven by an initial desire complex enough that its expression is never a rehash. Frustration doesn't teach music history, but that doesn't stop them from knowing very well where they come from. The pillars of Born Bad proudly carry the banner of our bastard post-punk, grain-fed, free-range, with a greased crest and a spur ready to scratch. One of the great joys of listening to a band that has had time to know what it wants is that they play together. The keyboards have six strings, the drummer has a pick, the bass sings, no one is competing, and it sounds as good as it looks. There are probably plenty of presets on their synths, but Fred Campo must have stripped out what wasn't needed, and the result is no lasagna of layers; it's played like a guitar. That's all we ask for: to find in a record what we hear live. Frustration, a band that fiercely and touchingly defends the right to keep a cool head - there's life outside the van - logically has a loyal audience, virgo ascendant she-wolf. If this is your first foray, be confident; the quintet hones its blades with the expertise of a Thiers cutlery maker. For the snobs who roll on the floor when someone sings in English on the wrong side of the Channel, know that two songs in French, 'Omerta' and 'Consumés,' specifically remind us that Fabrice Gilbert sings in an interlanguage that has just retained the best of both idioms. This allows you to fully savor his acid and direct rants, which perfectly summarize this "generation of apathetic fools / fantasizing about rich idiots." Losing my edge, my ass. Produced in-house, at Mains d'Oeuvres, pre-mixed by Nicus, the guitarist, mixed by Jonathan Lieffroy, Krikor on mastering: there's been a slight shift to port since their last album So Cold Streams. The sound is less radically cold wave and seeks a balance close to the instruments (the guitar plays inside your face, closer it's in). We'll find some industrial traces on the drumheads of 'Riptide,' a tunnel produced like a banger and sung like new wave. Anne, from the Rouen band Hammershøi, came to whisper in German on 'Vorbei,' a rare moment of pause in this very intense album. The very cardio drumming of 'Catching Your Eye' recalls the joyful brutality of 'Shades from the past,' an instrumental from their second album, and confirms, if need be, that Mark Adolf forms a formidable duo with Pat Dambrine on bass. 'Secular Prayer,' which closes the album, reminds us that Frustration is as much from the family of Ian Curtis as from Ian Dury: it takes incredible care not to take oneself too seriously with so much success.
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