Bruno Karnel’s Villa Solitude is a record that thrives on contrast – not in a dramatic, high-stakes sense, but in its careful balance of tension and release. It moves between genres without fully committing to any one of them, borrowing the slow, brooding patience of post-rock, the intricate layering of prog, and the stark, unembellished directness of post-punk. But instead of a mere fusion, it plays with expectations, sometimes embracing structure, sometimes unraveling into open-ended, atmospheric passages.
The album leans more on instrumentals than Karnel’s previous work, allowing textures to dictate momentum. The guitars alternate between crystalline clarity and a rawer, overdriven edge, shifting fluidly over understated yet precise drumming by Basile Combes (Dislimn). There’s a sense of deliberation in how each section unfolds – never rushed, never indulgent, always with purpose. Occasional bass flourishes from Matthieu Gajewski and cello work by Artem Litovchenko and Polina Faustova add depth, but they never overshadow the album’s core identity.
Produced by Florent Morel and mastered by Thomas “Plec” Johansson, Villa Solitude keeps a natural sound, avoiding excess studio polish. This choice works in its favor, allowing the dynamics to breathe. Some moments are sparse, others dense, yet nothing feels forced. It’s a record that doesn’t impose itself but rather invites the listener to engage on their own terms.
The cover art mirrors this approach – a looming yet fractured structure, standing alone in an undefined landscape, dissolving at its edges. It suggests isolation but not emptiness, modernity but not permanence. Much like the music itself, it blurs the line between stability and disintegration, between presence and erasure. Just as Karnel constructs his soundscapes with layers that seem to shift in and out of focus, the visual counterpart reinforces this sense of ambiguity, making Villa Solitude not just an album but a space to inhabit.
Rather than pushing for immediacy, Villa Solitude rewards patience. It’s an album that demands attention through volume or theatrics. Instead, it quietly carves its own space, offering something compelling for those willing to meet it halfway.
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Released by Bitume Productions on March 14th, 2025
Music source for review – Grand Sounds PR
