He’s been all over the place these last few months with his different projects, and Philippe Petit is not willing to lose any ground: only a few weeks after the release of the album of his new project Strings of Consciousness, he’s back with no less than four records, as different as they are indispensable. Let’s start our journey with Fire Walking to Wonderland, the second part of his trilogy Extraordinary Tales of a Lemon Girl. We had left the Lemon Girl in a state of uncertainty at the end of Oneiric Rings on Grey Velvet, on the brink of an abyss that seemed to attract her against her own will. Philippe Petit has decided to push her for good this time, and unfortunately for her the fall is far from peaceful. While its predecessor managed to give its heroine a few calm breaks and oneiric refuges, Fire Walking to Wonderland is a total head-on threat made of clashing climates and contorted strings that tightly enclose it and drag it further down the depths of what appears more like a nightmarish land than a wonderland. Closer in this record to modern composition than to the soundtracks that underlay Oneiric Rings on Grey Velvet, Philippe Petit has added an incandescent barb-wired string to his bow. Much more tender in his tribute to his daughter Eugénie (fortunately for her), Philippe Petit is still not corny. Eugenie is sprinkled with traps, fortunately compensated by the gentle tones of violins and cellos that emerge from masses of noise here and go drown in sinister cracks there. With this record, Philippe Petit offers a remake of Bryar's Sinking of the Titanic with a plastic boat in a fish tank -- anything but a lullaby! With Una Symphonia della Paura, we find him on the side of brutality. The record, originating from a collaboration with justin Broadrick, is a massive and oppressively slow “Murmurs” (as if Mater Suspiria Vision had made the acquaintance of Sun O))) somewhere on the way) that opens the way for black and haunted outbursts. With its noise assaults, tribal percussion captured through tons of background noise, electric spikes, Una Symphonia della Paura overloads all the meters, and the subtle structures that Philippe Petit usually applies to his tracks are drowned in the mass to the benefit of a formidable efficiency, of the unavoidable progress of a massive and coarse block covered in protrusions like some unknown weapon. Finally, under the name Philippe Petit & Friends (the new friends including, among others, Nils Frahm, Rob Ellis, Aidan Baker, James Johnston (Gallon Drunk), Richard Harrison (Spaceheads), Reihold Friedl (Zeitkratzer) or Adrian Klumpes), we find him one last time with Cordophony, a polychrome record that mixes a neoclassic delicacy (“Eunoïa”) with a dissonant folk undertone (« The Sunflower who does not like to turn to the Sun »), with pieces for avant-garde piano (« The Modern Dance for the advanced in Age »), a tribute to the musical tradition (“Merlin’s Music Box” being presented as a tribute to Janacek), a tense-up soundtrack (« Oneiromancy »), and even a nightmarish lullaby (‘Lullaby”). Complex and fascinating from beginning to end, Cordophony is an extraordinary sound adventure that we would like to experience more often. All the more reason not to let it go!