Réunion Island sits in the Indian Ocean, nearer to Madagascar and Mauritius than to continental France. It’s officially French, creole in everyday life. Its plantation past relied on forced labour, and the abolition of slavery in 1848 still leaves a scar. Crucial context when a metal outfit from Réunion crafts a sophomore record tackling bondage. Isolated scenes breed dense creativity; cramped practice spaces, rare gigs, a community running on sheer grit and shared hunger. Cut off from major circuits, forced to forge their own path. No room for half measures.
Surging forward with furious thrash ferocity, Sabouk Rouge grips its theme like a weapon. The title names the tool – the “sabouk,” the whip that tore skin – while the tracks fixate on one relentless nightmare: cruelty as routine, people as cargo, violence as bureaucracy. The “rouge” speaks clearly. Scarlet marks are undeniable proof of lives lost, while the crisp white sleeve murmurs denial.
I harbored unease that the sonic similarity between “Sabouk Rouge” (the opening anthem) and “Tantine Lo Clou” might constrain the album. It doesn’t. The group demonstrates range without straying from their core sound, weaving fresh, sharp ideas as the music unfolds. Much hinges on the guitars: blazing riffs and solos hurling you to ’80s Bay Area thrash, yet anchored by contemporary production where everything is polished and immediate.
“Meet Your Meat,” track three, ranks among the strongest here. A powerhouse, even if, truth be told, it doesn’t reinvent the wheel. And really, who does (or even aims to) in thrash these days? “Sanctuary” stands as another highlight: Slayer-esque, steeped in Reign in Blood’s spirit, but pacing itself: methodical, predatory, before striking hard.
The vocals on “La Haine” (hatred, plain and simple) drive it home. Lomor fear no experiment, stepping beyond comfort, yet crafting a dynamic thrash release; one that seethes, then erupts when it must, like on “La Pouss’.” It barrels toward a punishing finale with “Nevroz,” featuring S. Camhi, who also engineered the mix.
By the end of Sabouk rouge, the main theme never fades into obscurity. Lomor has the skill to sustain tension without slipping into preachiness. What remains? A dynamic thrash offering that breathes when it chooses, then snatches you when it pleases. Sharp, relentless. Moments of release, then the grip tightens again. An album that dodges predictability, straddling fury and restraint.
