Geneva’s presque fantôme has been one of my favorite tape-based projects since I got a hold of their self-titled cassette back in 2021. A generous care package sent by the artist on behalf of their label dents de scie dosed my ears with the murky sounds of chutes as well as the extensive back catalogue of prior alias crève-chiens, which is full of equally enrapturing analog gloom. Though the distinct style teeters over the symbiotic abysses of noise and dark ambient, presque fantôme remains faithful to its specific spin on rustic, basement-bred musique concrète, ensuring that each release never loses its balance on that slippery ledge. cachette presents some of the most desolate material yet, taking the project’s name (French for “almost ghost”) to heart with its paranormal shrouds of shadow. The A side begins with a yawning, cloying drone, less emerging from the darkness than burrowing farther into it. But this place is not smooth or spare—it’s filled with things, objects, appliances and furniture and clutter crammed into corners that all come to “life” at night, rendered rogue and restless by the reality that something, perhaps everything, is wrong. As eerie as the music is, there’s not much of a sense of mystery or paranoia; the textures move and shift, rattle and shiver, but they don’t evoke any sort of outside force, let alone a resolution or an “answer” (not even a “question”). The lengthy closing track in particular is a haunting display of this absolute insularity, its symphony of slur dragging like a moldy bejewelled tapestry across the rotten floor, from wall to wall and back again… the “why” is of no consequence.
Noise Not Music 