If Alcest had hung it up after Ecailles de Lune in 2010, there’s a good chance they would have still been recognized as one of the most influential bands in metal. After all, they were the founders of the Blackgaze movement that Deafheaven imported stateside, inspiring legions of copycats. In many corners of metal’s various subgenres, it’s impossible to escape the French pioneers’ influence. Their name has been printed on more hype stickers for other bands than just about anyone I’ve ever seen.

But amazingly, not only did they continue past that masterpiece, but they’ve released a few more since. While Shelter’s more subdued palette may have disappointed fans of their harsher side, each record since then offers a strong contention to being called their best.

Maybe it’s recency bias, but Les Chants de l’Aurore (French for The Songs of Dawn) might actually offer the most compelling argument.

Alcest has always united their black metal chops with a penchant for prettiness without sacrificing either side. But Les Chants is maybe the most gorgeous thing they’ve ever released. Synth choirs, organs, bells, post-punky clean guitars, pianos, and thick vocal harmonies play alongside aggressive drums, white-noise guitar distortion, and generous use of Neige’s screamed vocals.

And it is just the most affecting thing. From just a sonic standpoint, this is among the most beautiful records I’ve ever heard (which makes the apparent pressing defect on my copy all the more disappointing—I’m already emailing about a replacement). There is a Golden-Hour hue to the timbres (much like the album art) that comes from the same place as The Cure’s best work. I even recommended this record to a Cure fan saying it’s what Disintegration would sound like as a black metal record.

The spiritual and emotional power of this record is what all the big glitzy worship bands think they’re doing. But unlike Hillsong and the like, Alcest has no need for lazy and cloying lyrics to reveal the divine. The clouds part at the sound of their anthemic chord changes alone. And in truth, I guess the lyrics could be lazy and cloying, but because they’re in French or a French-like gibberish, I have way of knowing.

It’s almost become cliche to react to a new Alcest album with the assertion that it might actually been their best. That chorus accompanied Kodama in 2016, and Spiritual Instinct again in 2019. Cliche or not, Les Chants de l’Aurore offers no reason to stop the trend. And even if it isn’t their best record, it’s immediately cemented itself as my album of the year.