Fleur De Feu is mostly the work of one woman – the splendidly-named Dominique Van Cappellen-Waldock who sang all the songs on Weep (P.O.G.O. RECORDS #187) and also played guitar loops, but aided by Tauk Henri on guitar and the production skills of multi-instrumentalist Déhà. Plus guest musicians Alinvosky, Rastelli, Safatly, De Backer and Andreni.
Belgian creator Cappellen-Waldock not only has a great name but claims her grandfather was a member of The Ancient Order of Druids…this esoteric fraternity isn’t exactly “ancient” – it started in London in the 18th century – but having a neo-druid in the family tree is certainly a great conversation piece for the next time you visit the Atlantis bookshop in Museum Street. Despite this, what we hear isn’t exactly what we might call “druid” music – instead, most of the lyrics come from a 19th century Native American magician of the Cheyenne tribe, known only to us as “Owl Woman”. Four of the six songs here are based on the writings of this Owl Woman, and Dominique intends this record as “a tribute to our ancestors”. I think it’s fair to say there’s also a strong pro-feminist slant to a lot of these gothy, slow, depressive anthems, which is something you might also find in the music of Baby Fire, the Belgian post-punk all-woman trio of which Dominique was a member, and who impressively managed to enlist two members of Crass to appear on their second album, The Red Robe, in 2014.
Full marks for the inclusive effort here, and you could say Dominique Van Cappellen-Waldock has made a heroic gesture in reclaiming and restating the artistic creations of an obscure proto-feminist from the past. The music production is too murky for my tastes, loaded with portentous percussion and over-cooked drone sounds; there may once have been solid matter in these performances, but it’s been mostly boiled into mush by Déhà’s excessive overdubbing and mixing. None of which really does Dominique’s singing voice any favours, but at least the intent behind this record is honest. (05/02/2025)