So this is the second opus from this French doom band called Monolithe, whose rather ambitious project is to tell about nothing less than origin of mankind. For this purpose, every Monolithe “album” is actually a single more than fifty minutes long track – oh, wait, every album is actually a fifty minutes long part of a SINGLE song.
Because it is obvious by listening to this second album right after having listened to the first one: it is definitely the same song. Same death slow tempo, same key, same crushing guitar wall of sound, same desperately low prehistoric growls from the singer, and regularly the same plaintive melody we could call the “Monolithe leitmotiv”. This is in a certain way not illogical as the band is supposed to tell us a continuing story, but the risk taken is obvious: a fifty minutes long song is already hard to digest, especially when it is not renowned for its lightness, so how about a SECOND one-hundred-tons weighing similar track? The band actually seems to fall in the trap many extreme acts fall in – as Monolithe is undoubtedly an extreme band, if one considers extreme music being music exploring a genre to its ultimate boundaries: easily repeating itself, consciously or not.
It is all the most a pity as the key idea seemed to be here: accentuate the lighter side of the work without attempting to its coherence. Keyboards sound a bit more present than in the first opus, and the first ten minutes exhibit some of the most melodic passages from the Monolithe (so far short) discography. The song even shows some punctual acoustic breaks, as well as the at first unexpected presence of an accordion. And yes, as surprising as it may sound, accordions have their place in extreme doom metal! Its plaintive sound perfectly melts with the gloomy atmosphere of the song, and one can only regret the idea had not been put further than short apparitions all along the track (let’s just highlight this awesome solo around 38:00!). Thanks to these additional elements Monolithe II could have been an inspired, rich but still oppressive piece of work if only the band had put more effort into the heavier parts.
As now, as stated before, the heavier parts, which still compose the core of the track, are more or less a carbon copy of Monolithe I and, worse, sometimes become annoyingly repetitive. Even if the previous album showed some weaker moments and could have been a tad shorter, it never felt into outrageous monotony, while Monolithe II definitely does. Sometimes the band really repeats the same pattern during five minutes, what is obvious filler, as if it had not enough imagination to last fifty minutes (which, granted, is not an easy challenge). Some may call it minimalism? Well, you fool no one. On this topic, the last five minutes are complete waste of time and almost ear-scorching. A pity, as the ten minutes before might be the best part of the album.
The mark now could seem rather high for an album which eventually shows several defects. But Monolithe, rather than a band, is still a definitely unique experience, and that alone has to be rewarded. But if you want to be introduced to the Monolithe world – what I recommend to every doom metal lover – just pick up Monolithe I.