Negative Frequencies is an event curated by Stephen Bessac (Night Wolf) which is named after a song from his Hardcore band Kickback. The second installment was located in Paris, France, featuring exclusive performances by Kristian Olsson, Vomir, Legion V.K, Scum F.C, SD.KFZ, Night Wolf, Imminent Death, Sanitation, Un Regard Froid, Venerance, and Pierre-Marc Tremblay’s Âmes Sanglantes, with a special guest—of course, James Light’s MEATPACKER. While fundamentally similar in spirit, ethos, and, in many ways, essence, PM (Âmes Sanglantes) and James (Meatpacker, Wounded Son, Agonal Lust, etc.) operate on different sides of the post-industrial spectrum.
While both are extreme, PM’s focus is more sonically rooted in his signature harsh noise, which he has been creating since the mid-90s—uncompromising in both sound and spirit. James, also blending harsh noise and sample manipulation, uses more ambient textures and rhythmic elements and, in some cases—such as this performance—is rooted in literal pain, where self-inflicted wounds pool blood (literally) around his feet while he screams in agony, confronting the crowd like a cement wall. Since joining the small sado-masochistic family known as Hospital Productions, founded by Dominick Fernow, roughly half a decade ago, the label has served as a home for a number of James’ projects. In comparison, PM and Fernow go back to the late ’90s/early 2000s, also sharing duties in the black metal band Departure Chandelier.
Considering the project was conceived in the mid-’90s, when PM was around 14–15 years old, and has since released hundreds of recordings, it is safe to say he is not only a veteran of the Canadian noise scene—just a few years behind, arguably, the king KNURL—but also a permanent fixture in the Hospital Productions roster since meeting Fernow. Captured here is a blunt, unfiltered slab of live harsh noise that prioritizes confrontation over composition. Rooted in a primitive cassette manipulation practice developed over three decades, PM presents a raw document of performance—partly improvised, unstable, and physically overwhelming. Thick layers of feedback and metallic abrasion blur into a continuous slump, emphasizing texture rather than progression. Like much of the project’s work, it reflects an underground tradition built on extremity and no-nonsense sensibilities rather than accessibility. For those attuned to the contemporary power electronics and noise underground, it’s a compelling snapshot of intensity; for others, it may register as impenetrable sonic hostility.
Emerging from a network of tape trading and ultra-limited CD-R releases, the project embodies the DIY ethos of harsh noise and power electronics: minimal promotion, scarce physical editions, and a focus on raw sonic impact over accessibility. Rather than building a recognizable “brand,” as many mistakenly prioritize, Âmes Sanglantes has remained deliberately obscure, with a discography that feels more like a scattered archive than a curated catalog. As a noise artist, Âmes Sanglantes leans heavily into dense, analog textures—feedback loops, distortion, and degraded samples layered into slow-moving walls of sound. The compositions tend to be long-form and immersive, emphasizing psychological endurance and subtle shifts over dramatic structure. There is little interest in rhythm or melody; instead, the work operates through pressure, saturation, and atmosphere. Titles and themes often suggest existential tension, urban decay, or provocation, but without clear narrative, leaving interpretation open. Critically, the project’s strength lies in its uncompromising devotion to the underground. Âmes Sanglantes stands as a genuine artifact of its era—raw, obscure, and unfiltered.
Modulated and reverberated metallic hits create an uneasy atmosphere, while crumbling, long-drawn-out drones are paired with the tension of high-end frequencies that contrast the entire performance. The pitched-down vocals echo where truly deprived and sinister evil resides, seemingly exorcising itself from James’ body, where his spirited pain meets an uncanny presence of doom. A more distinctive pulse of post-industrial beats pounds through, while distant screams of indecipherable cries hollow out the high-end abuse, providing an intensity that never relents. While the more concrete elements subside at times, there remains a consistent air of sonic destruction that blends each moment into the next—a warped sense of the unhinged that not just anyone can pull off. Where there is the dissonance of dark ambient drones, there is also the texture of harsh noise. The cassette manages to capture at least a portion of the viscerally devastating performance, creating an emersive listening experience. This is true underground post-industrial power electronics at its current peak.
Both performances sound as if they were prepared for a recording release, and while I was not there, I have heard with confidence that they were even more consuming under punishing sound levels—the atmosphere seemingly hostile, yet in reality a gathering of coherts uniting from across the globe. The release is housed in a custom Hospital Production “coffin” shell case (version 2, featuring the skeletal design and logo beneath the cassette), with artwork by James Light—reflective of his style and his label, Packing Productions, and in line with the broader family of Hospital Production releases. It also includes a download code, though you can hear the Âmes Sanglantes side on Bandcamp. It would appear it was available only though pre-order, although you can find copies at the Bandcamp link in the last sentence.
