The genesis of Verset Zero arose from the abyss of electronic music. Deep rhythms, visceral atmospheres, tearing saturations. He traveled the world bringing his violence deep in modern cities.

But weariness came to him... A metamorphosis was necessary.

A return to the roots, but in an avant-garde perspective. A primitive melancholy had seized his soul.

His vision and ambitions had changed. Creating a world that was decidedly depressive and black, but both elegant and seductive. Play with oppositions: life, death, melody, noise, hope and destruction.

The deep strings tremble heavily as the cavernous and tortured voice is torn, the rhythm is martial, burdening like the last steps of a man before his fall to infinity. A declaration of love, dismembered by darkness. The notion of global art remains crucial, forged through various elements forming a single merciless image.

Hell opens under our feet as the unholy death knell rings out. Before our eyes, the banners of an ancient doctrine... a magisterial altar for a faceless preacher, everything is black, as if sadness were to last forever.

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