Toog is the pseudonym of Gilles Weinzaepflen, a 38-year old French musician from Mulhouse, near the Swiss border. In September, 2001, just a few days before a scheduled flight to New York, he met actress (XXX)/model/filmmaker (Scarlet Diva)/pin-up Asia Argento, daughter of cult horror film maestro, Dario in Paris. Then terrorists destroyed the Twin Towers and Toog and Argento were stuck in Paris. Recalling a similar chance meeting between French poet Apollinaire and Louise de Coligny-Châtillon in Nice on almost the exact same day (September 6) 87 years earlier, Toog devised a concept album about “a love story in a time of terrorism,” in which he and Asia would reprise the roles of Apollinaire and Lou (as the poet referred to her in his posthumously published “Poemes à Lou”). The result, a limited edition, 4-track EP, “Anna-Lou” was released in late 2001 in Japan. Several years later, Toog contacted the third ingredient in this apocalyptic stew, 24-year old French composer/producer, Digiki, who brings a metallic, glitchy experimental sheen to Toog’s subtle electronics. [You can read Digiki’s description of the collaboration here.]
The melodic, keyboard “Opening” is occasionally interrupted with shards of metallic noise, perhaps a portend of the evil which lies in wait. Argento narrates her self-composed tale of “Ugly Ducklings” over what sounds like an accordion or harmonium backing. She sings the song’s dénouement in a voice not unlike the saner, more accessible moments of a Nina Hagen or Diamanda Galas.
“Les Belles Endormies” is a sweet, romantic French pop song in the style of Jacques Brel or Serge Gainsbourg, yet it is also as contemporary as Air. “Terroriste” is, as expected, a harsh, industrial slap in the face – think of a French Nine Inch Nails or, perhaps more in line with the 9/11 tragedy, Einstürzende Neubauten (literally, “collapsing new buildings.”) [This is the first track Took and Digiki worked on and has been called “Toog at hardcore, German industrial goth pop.” I think that hits the nail on the head.]
“Boîte à musique” is a mostly instrumental slice of musique concrète, followed by “A Son Cou,” an excellent example of Digiki’s “glitch” influences, which, for those unfamiliar with the genre, sounds like a scratchy, skipping record. Again, the NIN influence, particularly the more experimental pieces on The Downward Spiral will be recognizable here.
The Apollinaire connection is solidified with Toog’s recitation of the poet’s “Les 9 Portes” (aka, "Les neuf portes de ton corps") over a ruminating piano backing, and Digiki returns to his old, glitchy tricks on the title track (“Etendue”), which “skips” so much, it sounds like your CD player is broken and the disk is permanently stuck in the digital equivalent of a lockgroove! Argento returns to narrate the closing “Side Love Project,” describing both America’s rebuilding efforts and humanity’s resiliency in the face of unspeakable horror and insanity. Toog’s musical accompaniment assumes a playful, xylophone-styled groove, yet Digiki’s ever-present distortions and sound manipulations illustrate the evil that constantly walks amongst us, cautioning us against the dangers of complacency.
At times evocatively beautiful, Toog’s French narration almost makes the experience similar to listening to the soundtrack of a Jean-Luc Godard film, minus the images, particularly with Godard’s frequent interruptions in the narrative to insert excerpts from other media (especially quotes from poems, novels, newspaper articles, etc.) as Toog does here with Apollinaire.
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