The Stalker

Description

With a name paying homage to the great hours of Italian bis noir and a delightfully murky synthwave, poisoned by synthetic drugs and the rust of circuit boards, Scorpion Violente has everything to displease fans of entertainment for the entrepreneurial generation. Molesting their synthesizers with the vigor of maniacs in a depressive phase, the two companions unleash bursts of dirty sounds diluted in feedback, sending Ich Bin and the Syndicat Electronique back to their holiday notebooks. The tempo has slowed, the distant echo of In Aeternam Vale and Ike Yard exudes from their haunting loops. Litanies on the edge of the abyss now permeate their cyclothymic cold blues, enough to make Alan Vega turn in his grave. Sleazy refrains spat out like bile by a wounded animal, tales of ordinary madness, nightmares of daily life, and steel town rockabilly made in Lorraine, a journey through the cold vapors of heroin cut with sulfur. You don't mess with these people, whole and uncompromising. Life is beautiful even when it sucks; it might even be there, in the firmament of the downtrodden and in the atrium of abandoned factories, that the last vestiges of poetry remain. They really made us wait since their last EP, but it was worth the wait.