[engl] Track 1 to 4 from the first maxi 45 Frustration on Blind Records 2004, recorded and mixed by Brieuc Bourgeois and Virgil Cohen at the Secret School. Front picture by Lanso Track 6 to 9 from the "Wait" EP on S-S Records 2006 recorded and mixed by Nicus at Jam Studios (8 tracks reel to reel). Artwork by Cat the Cat Track 5 from the CD release "Frustration" on Manic Depression 2005 recorded and mixed by Nicus at Jam Studios Track 10 recorded and mixed at home by Nicus (8 tracks reel to reel) All songs mastered by Mikey Young

[engl] Introducing them for the umpteenth time would be disrespectful. But reminding everyone of why they’re essential can’t hurt. They’re closely intertwined with Born Bad’s rise to fame, being their first ever release, they’re seen as the caring big brothers of the French indie scene. Their pathway in itself is symbolic: hailing from the garage closed circuit from the 90s, they gave up the tattoos and brilliantine rock to try something different –at the crossroads of punk and cold wave, of Métal Urbain, Killing Joke and Joy Division, while we were all rediscovering France’s synth-wave heritage with theBIPPP and Des Jeunes gens mödernes compilations. And five fellows not particularly renowned for their technical skills found themselves invested with a peculiar grace, becoming avant-gardist just as they were entering their forties, and showing the way to a whole generation of bands that suddenly became aware that it was possible, even here, in our star-crossed France. Critical acclaim, high sells, delighted crowd: the rest is history. Ever since, nostalgia has kind of lost its appeal. We grew fed up of reading in the rock museum press that nothing valuable had been recorded since 1967, and we figured out that all things considered, we probably had better things to do than picking the patterns on our wallpapers or our Italian ties. It was time to get back into the pit, not looking back, and getting numb on something that is ours. The excitement of listening to the latest garage hit boys has well faded (the next band trying to emulate Thee Oh See’s repertory can already consider itself dismissed), but it is intact when it comes to lend an ear to Empire of Shames, the third album by Frustration. It is “only” their third album in over 15 years of existence, the defining sign of bands that don’t ride any wave but would rather dig their very own hole in the wall of legends, and hang there their plaque of best craftsmen in the industry. They crushed mountain chains on Relax (2008), uncovered new continents and rainforests withUncivilised (2012), so it’s only logical they now project to terraform Mars planet with this album that celebrates their return to a cold hostility that echoes the one of punks going by the name of a Polish capital city. “Dreams, Law, Rights and Duties”, “Just Wanna Hide” and “Excess” are punches in the knees as signs of welcome from Fabrice, whose voice wanders from a Curtis-like spleen to a cockney spit. If “Arrows Of Love” sounds like the album’s break, this mesmerising Smiths-like ballad that turns into a proletarian anthem is one of the peak in the album. “Mother Earth in Rags” will undoubtedly be a hit, given its harangue as baroque and dramatic as a speech from Lenin you would hear in an opera about communism; “Cause You Runaway” shows that our lads have also listened to James Murphy; and “No Place” (a last minute addition) is a synth-punk-noise gem that will generate one hell of a pogo at the end of their next concert. Frustration is now this fully grown-up lion that has no intention of ending up as a bedside rug. The grouches that you only hear when the press hands them a megaphone, and that would be disarmed if their MacBook were taken away from them are still talking about the good old days. The king of the jungle is back to restore its order, reminding tourists that coming here as a casual observer is not an option, because this is no ordinary regional park. The great history of rock can take a hike because our softened nerves are yearning to be tense one last time, our voices get lost, and we want more of those poor attempts at stagediving if only we can see Frustration one more electrify a crowd like they did at the latest Villette Sonique, with their social-class comrades of Sleaford Mods. And this, is the only reason why we agree to give in to music, this intrusive thing that never asks for our advice. The rest is just a background noise of conceited babbling saturating the feed of our souls. Bollocks, basically.

[engl] During the 1990s, wherever you lived in France, you could see certain groups between 5 and 10 times a year - sometimes even without really wanting to. Guys who played so much, all the time, everywhere, that it was impossible to spend more than three months without being at one of their concerts. Right down to the depths of the Var or Jura, they pushed tons of kids to start their own band or fanzine, to access something different. It was more than just music. It was a spirit, an idea. A way of looking at the world. Rules are no longer the same. Music no longer has the same weight, the bands we come across between 5 and 10 times a year - sometimes even without really wanting to - are rarely the right ones, and the kids from the far reaches of the Var or the Jura have something else to do than formig bands or fanzines. But the spirit and the idea are still there. And in the last 10 years, in France, no group has played them better than Frustration. Like all these groups, Frustration we have seen them 5, 10, 100 times - sometimes without really wanting to. And because we're not quite the same either - more informed, more busy, more jaded, less easily impressionable - we always said to ourselves that we've gone around it, that their whole comedy is getting old. But with each new concert, each new record, we go back to the roots. Because the fire is still burning, because the passion is still intact, because they are not trying to pass for what they are not. Because somewhere in the heart of the Var or Jura, some kids still need to see the world differently. However, we were not expecting a record like So Cold Streams. At this stage of the championship, Frustration could have been satisfied with releasing a record that was essentially identical to the previous one, intense, abrasive, honest but without risk, and could have continued to fill the rooms without anyone having to complain about it by slowly moving towards an exit as dignified as it was inevitable. But from the first bars of "Insane", an insane electro-punk pounding that you'd think you'd just come out of a 1988 EBM EP, you realize that the scenario isn't going to go as planned. Instead of setting up a comfortable routine, Frustration recorded his fifth album as if it were the first, like a band formed 6 months ago that would have nothing to lose and a serious desire to fight it. If the post-punk cavalry is still present (martial drums, elastic bass, hit-and-run guitars), So Cold Streams surprises with its energy, the virulence of certain lyrics and the many risk-taking, "Brume", a nightmare with industrial sounds screamed in French, to the very pop "Lil' White Sister" which looks surprisingly at the Smiths and Echo & The Bunnymen, as well as the sinuous and melancholic "Slave Markets" on which the band invited Jason Williamson, the singer of Sleaford Mods - a band that played a lot in Frustration's new youth. "Sleaford Mods is a band that, musically and humanly, gave us a real boost," explains Fabrice Gilbert (vocals). It gave us a real sense of freedom, it allowed me to really say everything I wanted to say in my words, to talk about extremely intimate subjects as well as much more general things, whether it be political or social. So Cold Streams is, paradoxically perhaps, our most disillusioned, energetic and free record. This observation is perfectly summarized by the cover of the disc, signed like all the others by the painter Baldo, and which represents a machine tarring a road through a field of wheat. A painting made more than 15 years ago and which was originally intended to be the cover of Full Of Sorrow, Frustration's first album. For such a renaissance, the best choice could not be better. Especially since the image alone contains the whole disc: space, strength, light, rage and disgust too. The desire to destroy everything. To make a clean slate. To propose something different. A little more than music. A spirit, an idea. A way of looking at the world.