Blackmyth’s work on this classic track from Mylène Farmer makes for a totally immersive and rhythmic journey through darkness and deep thought. Seemingly taking only a fraction of the original song, but actually sounding like a clear run off from its general essence and soundscape, the remix feels like a sequel – a sort of, ‘what would happen if the music kept playing; where would we end up?’
While this is a fresh release it feels, for me, like an industrial after-party track from a simpler decade. There’s a retro and even canned aura to much of the ambiance. The bass-line is distinctly electronica-like, the synths and that distant crackle feel familiar but unreal, slightly haunting, and all of this is brilliantly in tune with the intended energy and sentiments of the original song. This feels like a fitting and quite honorable ode to Mylène Farmer’s release.
As things progress, those distant, echoing, descending riffs cascade around you chaotically. The beat seems to have a mind of its own, hitting hard and thick – listen through decent speakers to really feel the placement of all the elements. Those vocal snippets, that choir-like effect, creates something much further away in the mix, so between this and the lower end of the spectrum, your mind runs away within the arena of experience.
The remix is bang on four minutes, and just before that final quarter, the track starts to really come into its own, structurally speaking. The energy rises, those snippets of audio and samples from earlier seem to smash back onto the scene, all at the same time; the weight increases immensely. There are only brief moments of humanity within the sound, for the most part you feel lost in the machine, which works well considering the song’s subject matter and original concept and passion. Blackmyth has effectively recaptured that angst and that rebellion in a fresh yet clearly relevant way.
The more you listen to this, the harder it hits. The intro leads you menacingly into the raw intensity that follows. And once the beat hits, the addictive nature of the experience truly overwhelms. Those haunting melodies in the distance become your comforting source of escapism. There’s familiarity in the progression, in the distance – the disconnection strangely connects you to the music, so you eagerly await those drops, those changes, those climactic moments.
The whole thing is brilliantly creative and retro, yet somehow fresh at the very same time. There aren’t too many producers around to compare this with right now. It works its own level of strength in a unique way.
