No matter what the thought of the Moon often exudes, its silent rhythm keeps haunting the most majestic forms of music. Edouard–Léon Scott experimented with this peculiarity in 1860, as a sound was captured for the first time. The machine was able to record, but not restore, it. A sonic ghost was held captive in the cylindrical cage—a female voice singing the melody of ”Au Clair de la Lune.”
In its pale murmur, the Moon resembles the incommunicable parts of music—words of loneliness, yet fragile and profound. As it breaks in with such precision, the world is obliged to keep watch at night, and the day slips away into nothingness. Here, appearances waver and the Infinite retreats. As for what’s left behind—that, you’ll never know. But everything is on its way. You can’t listen to Dorian Pimpernel without remembering this.
Federico Nicolao
Jérémie Orsel sings and plays electric guitar. Johan Girard sings background vocals and plays the Wurlitzer piano, the Persephone, the Variphon, the bass guitar and analogue synthesisers. Benjamin Esdraffo plays the Wurlitzer piano, the Rocksichord, the Vox organ and analogue synthesisers. Laurent Talon plays the bass guitar and Hadrien Grange plays the drums and percussion.
7" vinyl limited to 300 hand numbered copies.