released March 22, 2018

« The first thing that strikes you about ‘CUNTROL+Z’ is the startlingly creative music, which is remarkable once you discover that the lyrical content is equally strong. Claude l’Anthrope (aka Claude Périard) creates sumptuous electronic landscapes, with modern hip-hop rhythms warped by the artist’s inevitable urge to veer off the beaten path. And yet they have strong, uncompromising statements to make regarding gender identification, sexual orientation, and our society’s short-sightedness and ignorance in these and other areas. Périard uses direct, unflinching language (both in English and French) to express these statements, which is an admirable reflection of the artist’s integrity. However, listeners should be cautioned that some of the sexual content here is particularly intense.

Périard’s talent here is in understanding that an expression of sentiment, even the less pleasant ones such as anger, resentment and anguish, can be appreciated by an audience, just as the delivery of music can be, even if it isn’t “pretty”. So they use the power of both, but the cumulative effect isn’t just geometric. Périard combines music and voice in such a synergistic way that they feed off each other exponentially.

“Fuck Them All” is understandably aggressive and hostile, and it starts out with punk grit. However, the electronics have a playful hint in the upper reaches when Périard starts relating the things that men have said and done, . It’s as if they are ridiculing this behaviour. But when the chorus comes in (“Fuck them all”) it’s plain hardcore growling anger. “When I come down to the city”, on the other hand, is bemusing with lyrics that are both relatable and bewildering: “When I come down to the city/It’s a fade out in my memories/They all become like movies/Projected outside of my body.” We have all had a similar feelings, but why does the artist feel this way? What is it about the city? It’s a mystery that is heightened by the music. As Périard’s voice echoes around our head the throbbing synth adds no clue but strangeness, while puzzling high notes suggest that there is even more mystery than is already apparent. It’s tantalizing and appealing but it offers no answers.

“When I come down to the city” is a rare moment of obliqueness for Périard, however. Most lyrical statements are direct and unequivocal. In “Swipe left or swipe right” they speak in uncertain terms of the absurdity of political systems with simple right/left options, as if it’s a binary code with no choices but “on and off”. And in “No shame sisters” they get right to the heart of the issue of gender identification, starting with the line, “I’m not a goddess, rather be a cyborg/ I’m not a girl, neither a boy”. There is certainly an element of frustration in the phrase, “Let’s burn this old world and start all over”, but there is also inspiring insight, “She’s not the moon, He’s not the sun/Everyone’s a star.”

Nothing comes easy on ‘Cuntrol+Z’, but that makes the pay-off of each song all the more rewarding. The album opens up with a rather skittish burst of electronic noise. It’s jarring but tantalizing at the same time. When Périard’s voice comes in, “Welcome in the world undone”, they are inviting you to enjoy the experience with the same adventurous spirit that created it. If you have that spirit then you’ll be enthralled by Périard’s unique take on electronica, as they combine such sounds as house, hip-hop, jazz, punk, and so on, with a wildly experimental bent. Sometimes the touch is angelically light, while at other times quite aggressive. Périard follows no conventional routes, but if you are open to the power in the synergy of their words and music then you’ll follow along. It’s a thrilling ride, but most definitely not for the faint of heart. »

- Mark Brennan, 28 mai 2018, Ride the tempo