REVIEW: Year of No Light - Les Maîtres Fous

More than a decade since it was last heard, Les Maîtres Fous - the once-forgotten live piece from French post-metal collective Year of No Light - finally sees a proper release via Pelagic Records. Originally commissioned for Paris’s Musée du Quai Branly in 2012, this haunting and visceral two song performance was conceived as a response to Jean Rouch’s controversial 1950s docufiction of the same name. Captured during its final airing in Bordeaux in 2015, Les Maîtres Fous stands as a stark, unsettling artefact of the band’s most emotionally demanding work to date - a slow-burning, ritualistic descent into hypnotic noise, tension, and release. As the band nears its 25th year, this archival unearthing is less a nostalgic nod than a brutal reminder: Year of No Light still dares to tread where few others will.

'Track One' opens like a memory coming back to life - with the soft crackle of static, like a

needle hitting a vinyl record. It’s subtle but instantly sets a mood, pulling you into Year of No

Light’s world of shadow and sound. From there, the guitars creep in, slow and ominous, joined by eerie string arrangements that feel almost otherworldly. There’s a sense of something building - a ritual unfolding or a battle scene viewed in slow motion. About halfway through, something unexpected happens: a brief burst of vocals pierces the haze. It’s raw, haunting, and deeply unsettling - like a voice calling from beyond. It’s the kind of moment that makes you stop and listen more closely. The track swells and crashes with all the weight the band is known for - layered guitars, dual drumming, and sheer intensity - before slipping back into the quiet it came from.

'Track Two' feels like the comedown. If the first track is the storm, this is the strange, echo-filled silence that follows. The focus shifts to the strings - soft and ghostlike - letting the track breathe and mourn. It’s slower, more reflective - almost peaceful, but never quite at ease. A tension simmers just below the surface. Then, out of nowhere, the guitars explode back in. It’s not chaotic; it’s controlled and deliberate. The drums hit harder, the vocals return - this time more pained, more urgent. You can feel the weight of everything that came before. As the energy fades, the track winds down to the same static that began the album. A single, trembling string note lingers in the air like smoke.

Les Maîtres Fous isn’t your typical live album. Originally performed just twice and recorded in

2015, it plays more like a sonic document - a deeply felt response to Rouch’s provocative film and the ritual practices it portrays. Year of No Light have always thrived on pushing boundaries, blending sludge metal with shoegaze, black metal, and ambient textures. But this release feels different. It’s deeply emotional, sometimes overwhelming, and clearly personal. Nearly 25 years into their career, Les Maîtres Fous proves the band remains unafraid to explore the difficult, the dissonant, and the deeply human.

Score: 7/10

Les Maîtres Fous was released on May 23rd 2025 via Pelagic Records.

Words: Mia Gailey

Photos: Year of No Light