There’s something about car accidents that sparks people’s interests. I don’t know about you, but I find it impossible to take my eyes off a good car wreck. There are warning signs such as the squeal of tires and a blaring horn, but all those things do is gravitate my eyes toward the source. The split seconds between reaction and collision are played in slow motion as the cars inch towards colliding inevitability. Don’t think me cynical, I don’t wish an accident on anyone, but when it does happen, it’s impossible to turn my head away. It is too horrific and exciting to miss, even though there is always enough time to turn and save my eyes the carnage.

Perhaps that is what draws me to Cyann & Ben’s new album Sweet Beliefs. Tracks like “Words” and “Let it Play” have all the makings of an inevitable catastrophe. What starts out as Cyann’s sweet whispering over a simple bass and synth already puts forth an air of helplessness and certain forceful confrontation. Like watching someone hang on to a cliff by a fragile tree branch while you’re running to the rescue, or witnessing the aforementioned car crash from a nearby sidewalk, its unavoidable result is the fateful climax, which more often than not on Sweet Beliefs means a noisy pinnacle.

The French quartet’s (Cyann & Ben are but two of the total four members) new release on Ever Records is all about the dramatic rise and fall, of which you can feel creeping up your spine and standing your neckhairs on end. The awaiting disasters however, are not as observable as a car crash, but rather, hidden deep inside like the helplessness of emotional detachment, or more aptly a lover’s one-sided devotion.

The instrumentation throughout is detached. Harsh guitars burn and bushwhack paths in front of you, although they are impossible to reach out and grasp, or fully wrap your ears around. Detachment is heightened by ambient synths that grow and fall from the ground below, making their presence felt only by a surrounding aura. Beyond the instrumental ups and downs, the constant is Cyann & Ben’s hushed vocals. They play the distant philosopher; the voice of the mind as only its keeper can hear and understand. It’s as though the conclusion has been realized and hope knowingly rests on the head of a pin.

There’s helplessness, isolation, and inevitable disaster, but as emotionally charged as this album is, there is a comforting gracefulness as well. Even though wrong has been committed that cannot be reneged, there is but a whisper of hope, a silent breeze meandering through the meadows. This is not an all too gloomy listening experience by any means.

Sweet Beliefs is at once elusive and enveloping, fragile yet weighty. Although the instrumentation is somewhat remote, you can’t help but feel like you’re right in the middle. A car accident might not affect you personally, but the experience of the result of four tons of mangled metal weighs heavily on the minds of all the surrounding bystanders. Through textured rise and fall, Cyann & Ben have crafted a pensively dense and stirring album full of devotion and inevitable calamity.

Cyann & Ben Official Site
Ever Records