1. Toz (9:25)
2. Intermud (2:59)
3. Dunb (8:57)
4. Bùmlo (5:34)
5. Mlùez (6:16)
6. Ïh (8:18)
Captain Flapattak – drums, vocals
Fabien De Kerbalek – guitar, vocals
Brhüno – tenor/soprano saxophones, bassoon, vocals
Thybo – guitar
Sam – alto/baritone saxophones, alto clarinet, flute, vocals
Damoon – bass, vocals (1-3)
Sir Alron – bass, vocals (4-6)
Marhïon Mouette – vocals, percussion (1-3)
Emilie Massue – vocals, percussion (4-6)
With the Ensemble Pantagrulair (1-3):
Séverine – flute, piccolo
Rémi – oboe
Catherine – clarinet
Pierre – horn
Even if, at first, their name may ring a bell with the many fans of J.R.R. Tolkien’s work (Rhûn means “East” in one of his invented languages), French outfit Rhùn are firmly entrenched in the Zeuhl tradition initiated by their fellow countrymen Magma in the late Sixties. The subtitle “Fanfare du Chaos” proudly emblazoned on the cover of their full-length debut album, Ïh, should leave no doubts as to the contents of the disc itself and its potential to appeal to the more adventurous fringes of the progressive rock audience.
The band – based in the northern French region of Normandy – revolves around the figure of drummer/vocalist Captain Flapattak, flanked by a group of other musicians who, like him, go for the most part by pseudonyms in the style of early Gong. Though very little is available in the way of a biography, from their social media presence it can be inferred that Rhùn have enjoyed a lively concert activity in the past few years. After a three-song demo released in 2008, their first proper recording effort – an EP also titled Ïh (like one of the tracks on the demo) – came at the end of 2012. Both of these recordings have been remastered by AltrOck Productions stalwart Udi Koomran and released in CD format by the Milan-based label in the early summer of 2013 – allowing the listener to trace the band’s development from a more rough-edged sound to longer, more elaborate compositions. Besides Captain Flapattak, Fabien de Kerbalek and Thybo (guitars, vocals), Brhüno (sax, bassoon, vocals) and Sam (sax, clarinet, vocals) appear on all the songs on the CD, while other members of this rather eclectic configuration have changed in the intervening years. At present, the band is a six-piece that also includes Damoon (bass, vocals); a reed quartet called Ensemble Pantagrulair also appears on the EP tracks.
The 9-minute “Toz” opens the album with a fair sonic rendition of that “fanfare of chaos” subtitle – a burst of horns, drums and vocals like a less melodic version of Magma, with hints of fellow French outfit Jack Dupon in the extravagantly theatrical vocals. The track develops as a veritable rollercoaster ride, reminiscent of Üdü Wüdü-era Magma – driven by powerful, martial bass and drums, and throwing in Hendrixian guitar solos, massed male-female choirs, majestic horns, carnival tunes and much more, with rare moments of respite. After this rather demanding listening experience, the short classical intermezzo of “Intermud” – with flute and oboe conversing discreetly in a Debussy-like piece – comes as a welcome surprise, though things change sharply once again when the insistent, hypnotic choir of “Dunb” kicks in. Alternating subdued, atmospheric passages with frantic bouts of dissonance, the track pushes Damoon’s thundering bass to the forefront, culminating in a fierce, almost operatic crescendo.
As can be expected, the two parts of the album (which runs barely over 40 minutes) differ quite noticeably. The three demo tracks also show a clear Gong influence – immediately suggested by the wacky, atonal female vocals and blaring saxes in “Bùmlo”– and a raw, almost unscripted quality. Captain Flapattak’s drum take the lead role in “Mlùez”, which combines a laid-back, jazzy allure with a smattering of RIO/Avant angularity; while the title-track veers into free-jazz territory, with low-key, psychedelic moments balancing out the dissonance. As a whole, the second half lacks the orchestral quality of the EP tracks, though the Magma influence is not as overwhelming.
Obviously, Ïh is not the kind of album that is going to convert those who find Zeuhl unpalatable, while lovers of this most idiosyncratic of prog subgenres will find a lot to appreciate in the album – including the stylish photography featured in the CD booklet. As pointed out in the previous paragraphs, the frequent lack of melody (at least in a conventional sense) may put off some listeners, and the compositional aspect might be improved upon, especially as regards cohesiveness. While Rhùn’s interpretation of Zeuhl is definitely more old-school than that of a band like Corima, and more dependent on the Magma influence, the band has still a lot of margin to develop a more personal approach.