This is reverb-heavy darkness from a French trio that has one foot firmly planted in the goth-inhabited industrial past and the other dangling somewhere in the digital present. Not necessarily my cup of tea, but at least it's a consistent disk as the reverberant and morose vibes never let up. I was fairly unsuccesful in discovering any actual data concerning the group, but 'Invocations' paints a pretty undisputable picture of what these folks are all about. A blast from the past of sorts. The first track sounds like an air-raid siren has been circuit-bent and shoved up your ass after one too many whiskeys. That's a compliment folks, as it doesn't get too much better than this. If rudimentary minor-key melodic figures and unthreatening forays into the world of noise trip your trigger then have at it.
There's no doubt that Sigma Octantis are proficient at what they do, but it's nothing that I haven't heard done better by the likes of Lustmord or Mental Anguish. The drum samples sound dated and the guitar work is sloppy, especially compared to the doom and drone work of recent efforts by countless contemporary groups. Although the reverb lends a certain nostalgiac air, it doesn't make for anything too special. The beatless efforts work the best, but the emergence of periodicity like that which surfaces on the second track is damn nice. This only lasts for a minute or so before it threatens to reach into some sort of rock-like status. 'Spindrift' is almost onomatopaeic in all it's Eno-ish glory until the percussion get too much attention and an unwelcome sequenced figure kicks in. Still, a very nice track that takes a turn only slightly varying from the disks otherwise mundane path. A bit of a Nocturnal Emissions vibe here from the 'Songs Of Love And Revolution' phase that carries over some into the fourth track that could honestly be an out-take from 'Shake Those Chains, Rattle Those Cages.' The percussion work on this one is simple, but at least trumps the banal melody.
'Misere et Convolution' begins in a fighteningly cumulative manner until it settles into a rather pedestrian groove that inhabits the shadows of what 'industrial music' represents to most people. Some vintage analogue patches surface on the sixth track, but are used in a cliched manner, save for the castanet-like clicks that I always loved in the past whether they came from Richard Teitelbaum or Severed Heads. To this day I'm still not sure if this is an insult or a compliment (having been on both sides of critique), but this is ideal music for a scary music soundtrack. I've heard some soundtracks that definitely supercede the films and vice-versa, but some people get offended by such talk. At any rate 'Molles Avalanches' furthers the aforementioned aesthetic, but is even more creepy and apocalyptic. It quickly loses its momentum however and turns into a rhythmic coda to the closing credits in an anti-climactic swoosh. The closer is based on a pleasant enough melodic figure that accumulates a noisy fungus and quickly dissipates into a fiendly alien that just wants to steal your drum machine. What Sigma Octantis do, they do well. Do I dig it? Yes, but not in a repeated listening sort of way. Like I said, it sounds dated, but if this is your bag then check these cats out. It's superbly recorded and pressed on professional grade CDs with quality printed covers in an edition of 500. Get moody.