The second single from trait d’union’s upcoming full-length lands this week, slipping out exclusively via our pages like another piece in a puzzle that has been taking shape for the last year and a half.
“hélas” arrives as part of Il n’y a pas d’ailleurs, scheduled for December 12th via Frozen Records on 12″ vinyl, tape, and CD, continuing the artist’s steady push toward a colder, heavier tone.
“‘hélas talks about the everyday, resilience, and incomprehension,’” he writes, framing the song as a look at daily struggle and the small grind of repeating yourself into exhaustion. In English, he adds, “hélas is about struggling everyday, resilience and the underlying nonsense of keeping on trying.”
trait d’union formed in 2023 and worked fast. A debut album Adieu la fête and several EPs landed in 2024, establishing a sound planted somewhere between Syndrome 81, early Rendez-Vous, and Molchat Doma.
Synthetic chill, punk snap, and melodies that lean toward a dancefloor lit by tired neon. It’s music built from structure and repetition but written with a sharp tongue, staying away from decoration. He describes the goal as building a minimalist New Wave “where coldness becomes touching,” the kind of line that reads simple until you sit with it.
This new record was composed and tracked between Berlin and Toulouse from September to August, completing a trilogy of releases that began roughly eighteen months ago. If the earlier pieces circled fed-up frustration and escape, this chapter sounds more like the moment after the dust settles. “Il n’y a pas d’ailleurs” is positioned as the disillusioned peak of that arc. Darker lyrics, darker sound, a little less patience. The writing points to resignation, not drama, and the music follows: still danceable, but pulled toward a more industrial pulse, with brief flashes of metal weight and even pop sensibility in places.
trait d’union admits there’s “been a while since we said goodbye to joy,” and nothing here suggests he’s turning around to consider where it went. Instead, he tightens the frame. The melodies stay dry and clipped, the synths feel like frost on glass, and the punk rhythm section keeps things moving even when the mood drags at the edges. The shift is subtle rather than theatrical, but it adds up. The record is pitched as more thoughtful and coherent than its predecessors, varied without losing shape, surprising without chasing novelty.
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“hélas” sits directly in that space. It doesn’t spell out answers or switch the lights on; it just keeps walking. The nonsense of continuing is the point, and resilience here doesn’t sound noble so much as automatic. It’s the shrug of getting up again because you don’t know what else to do, delivered with a melody that could pull you into motion even as the message sinks a little deeper.
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trait d’union’s dance between melodic hooks and nihilistic disenchantment has always been part of the appeal, but this time the contrast feels starker. The energy is still there — you could move to these tracks — but the emotional core thins into a colder air. That’s what makes “hélas” stick. There’s no dramatic collapse, no lecture; just another day, and then the next.
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It’s a small world he’s building, but the details keep shifting, and the changes are quiet enough to feel real. Frozen Records is steering the release, and while the formats are classic, the tone that sits inside them avoids nostalgia.
All of this leads to December, when the trilogy closes, and whatever comes after will start from here. For now, “hélas” does exactly what it claims: everyday struggle, a little bit of resilience, and the faint suspicion that trying makes no sense at all — but you’ll probably keep doing it anyway.
