Few recent musical concepts will have struck as hard as that of Zeal & Ardor. Born of the imagination of the Swiss-American Manuel Gagneux, the project starts from a vertiginous hypothesis: what if the slaves of the American plantations, rather than converting to their oppressors’ Christianity, had embraced the cult of the devil? From this uchronia arises an unheard-of music, wedding the African-American work song to the fury of black metal. This eponymous album, the third, cements the formula.
The critics (an 82 average across twelve reviews) acknowledge the strength of the proposition while tempering the enthusiasm of the early days. They hail an impeccable production, a sharpened melodic sense and that unique way of making the blues of the origins converse with contemporary electricity; they also note, here and there, a tendency to mellow.
Musically, the record widens the palette: to the gospel incantations and incendiary riffs are added electronic textures, near-pop passages, a production ambition aimed at the wider public without disowning the initial audacity. The best moments — those inhabited choirs that suddenly tip into detonation — rank among the most gripping of recent metal.
Still, this quest for accessibility sometimes blunts the edge. Where the first album astounded by its novelty, this one convinces more than it surprises, and certain tracks struggle to match the intensity of the peaks. The concept, so strong, now calls for renewal.
Verdict: 8/10. A solid, ambitious record, carried by an idea that remains one of the most stimulating of the decade, even if the effect of astonishment fades.
