Like many artists operating in this area, Mathias Delplanque (of France and Burkina Faso roots) uses different names according to the fields investigated. In this occasion he chose to remain visible, having fathered a 47-minute piece that doesn’t actually put forward new crucial answers in the shadowy world of rumbles, roars, cavernous rivers and remote echoes but, overall, sounds quite impressive to these ears. In case it wasn’t noticed, you just read the ordinary modus operandi for this kind of submission; yet I did welcome “L’inondation”, as the reviewer’s objectiveness still manages to prevail on the urge of throwing everything away when the building blocks employed are too comfortable for factual improvement. What the composer features as a winning card is called “sound placement”: Delplanque is a man who has studied music seriously, and it shows. The imposing growth of those waves from the underground provides a feel of cataleptic bliss meshed with a sense of ineluctability disclosing a noticeable quantity of compositional awareness, usually not likely to be found in these regions. Also to be valued are the manifest contrasts between the domineering accumulation of aquatic frequencies and hissing fumes, and the high-frequency emissions approximating bionic crickets that emerge from the mix. In short, this is a classic example of non-pioneering but brilliantly conceived record deserving a dutiful analysis to individuate its strong points. There are several.