Slift has never done things halfway, but with Ilion, the Toulouse trio takes another leap forward in ambition and daring. After the shockwave of Ummon, which had established the band as a reference point for heavy, cosmic psychedelia, one could have feared repetition or exhaustion. Instead, the opposite happens: Ilion expands the spectrum even further, balancing interstellar soundscapes, krautrock buildups, and stoner explosions, with a command of dynamics that draws equally from progressive rock and shamanic journeys.
A vertiginous entry point
From the opening moments, the album asserts its presence: guitars stretch into long, saturated layers, the bass rolls with an almost organic thickness, and the drums strike with a precision that never suffocates the sense of constant improvisation. There’s something ritualistic about this introduction, a tension that builds patiently before collapsing into collective detonations. The band plays with silence as much as with noise, and it’s this breathing quality that makes the listening experience both hypnotic and intense.
Krautrock as engine, stoner as fuel
What strikes you about Ilion is how Slift manages to blend seemingly disparate influences without ever giving the impression of patchwork. Repetitive motifs borrowed from krautrock structure the songs like organic machines, while stoner riffs add an almost physical heaviness. The vocals, often buried in effects, function more as an additional instrument than as a direct vehicle for meaning: they float, disappear, return in waves, reinforcing the sensation of permanent spatial drift that runs through the entire album.
A science fiction sonics that never falls flat
The great achievement of Ilion is its ability to sustain tension over time without ever lapsing into instrumental complacency. The longest tracks don’t stretch out from laziness, but because they genuinely have something to say: a progressive build toward a climax, breathing space before a new assault, a syncopation that disrupts linearity when least expected. You sense a band that has refined its science of crescendo since Space Is the Key and La Planète Inexplorée, and now masters every cog with an almost disconcerting clarity for such a demanding format.
If we can regret that certain central passages occasionally flirt with overkill, risking a loss of clarity for the sake of intensity, the whole remains remarkably cohesive for such an ambitious record. Ilion confirms that Slift isn’t just an excellent live band: it’s also a group capable of crafting albums conceived as genuine trajectories, where each track feeds into the next with an almost narrative logic. A record that demands commitment from the listener, but repays it tenfold once you accept losing yourself completely in it. A new cornerstone for the current psychedelic scene, and arguably one of the highest points in the band’s discography to date.
