It’s a shame that more people didn’t hear À l’âme enflammée, l’äme constellée… this year, and for that matter, it’s a shame that more people aren’t familiar with Gris, the two-man atmospheric/folk/orchestral black metal band from Quebec. The songs on À l’âme enflammée, l’äme constellée… are, first and foremost, gorgeous, and, secondly, perhaps more intricate than anything else that came out this year. They are orchestral in the sense that it would take a small orchestra to play them. Each of the four 10-minute plus “cornerstone” tracks on Gris is preceded by a string (violins, guitars, cellos) intro track; these give way to some of the most massive, epic songs this genre’s seen in some time. À l’âme enflammée, l’äme constellée… is what would happen if Hollywood let some black metal wizard with a degree from Juilliard soundtrack a Braveheart/Lord Of The Rings crossover universe mash-up. For as gorgeous as À l’âme enflammée, l’äme constellée… can be, the album doesn’t skip out on the riffs one bit. À l’âme enflammée, l’äme constellée… rips, hard, and the vocal performance deserves special note ‚Äî Gris vocalist Icare doesn’t scream or rasp, he howls in anguish. À l’âme enflammée, l’äme constellée… is just so damn ambitious, and Gris nails the delivery with precision and force. –Wyatt [LISTEN]