French group Les Discrets seemed to emerge in conjunction with the split with Alcest, which was a fine pairing of two bands’ similar styles of post-rock / shoegaze. Now, the release of Les Discrets’ first full-length album comes at the same time as Alcest’s latest, which furthers the notion that all the above mentioned are somehow the same band, particularly when considering the detail that Les Discrets’ drummer is the same from Amesoeurs, which is a practical alter-ego of Alcest. It’s like a collective of groups that make up one big behemoth.

Let’s not lose our minds, though. Suffice to say that if you like Alcest, you’re going to want to get Les Discrets. It’s probably all you’ll need to read.

Thus, analysis of Septembre et ses dernieres pensees will, fairly or not, be in reference to Alcest’s latest album.

Septembre et ses dernieres pensees is a highly accomplished, recommended album. It’s soft and delicate, nuanced, emotional, thoughtful music that channels loveliness, hardship, and nostalgia through a folky, post-rock medium that more than occasionally channels some metal in its delivery. The approach is closer to a feel of traditional French songs, but updated with a post-rock presentation. However, it is not nearly as good as Alcest. But you’ll still want to get it.

The production is delightful and organic, and the singing is excellent, but not as poignant as Alcest’s. It’s more mid-ranged in its feeling, and its presence is more of an emotional understatement. This applies to the songs in general as well: They are lovely, pleasant songs, but the emotion conveyed is blander.

Not that bland doesn’t have its place. Not every record has to be a huge roller-coaster of emotion. Septembre et ses dernieres pensees is like a gentler, more placid companion to Alcest, with no harsh vocals and much smaller musical swells — something to put on while enjoying a glass of wine, as opposed to contemplating one’s own frail emotional existence, past, present, and future.

Specific to this recording, the best moment occurs on the last track, where there is an amazing horn section that blows with a feeling of sweet contentment and comfort — this element is probably the one that sticks out the greatest as far as unique individuality.

Lastly, the art is also striking and beautiful... perhaps giving the impression that the music will be darker than it turns out to be, but there’s an element of a dark fairy tale narrative that is mirrored by the sonic element — what’s apparently sinister is actually misunderstood benevolence.

If you like Alcest (or even Amesoeurs), you’ll want to get Les Discrets, but only after you get Ecailles de lune. (8/10)