Flore Laurentienne - Volume III
Secret City Records
Released on April 10th, 2026
Moby meets Bach in the third volume from Flore Laurentienne, unenthusiastically titled Volume III. Influenced by the vastness of Quebec's St. Lawrence River and its surroundings, the album explores the often-untapped intersection of classical and electronic music. The artist’s website boldly claims the music is the "issue d’un mariage harmonieux entre cordes et synthétiseurs analogiques — nous entraîne dans un voyage intérieur aux frontières du sublime, où l’on se découvre à la fois fragile et puissant, suspendu entre vulnérabilité et émerveillement." Translated, this promises a "harmonious marriage between strings and analog synthesizers—leading us on an interior journey to the edge of the sublime, where we discover ourselves as both fragile and powerful, suspended between vulnerability and wonder." I found this to be entirely true for this outstanding album; it left me craving more from the composer and eager to see what this genre could become.
Volume III is the final installment of a trilogy. Unlike the first two albums, it was developed with the touring band before the final recording took place. It was intended to complete the cycle in the same way a plant completes its life cycle: finishing its bloom and creating space for something new to arise. To me, Gagnon definitely succeeded in bringing this vision to life. The album is lush and bold, driven by strong storytelling and evocative, profound compositions. It feels complete without feeling like a definitive ending—more like a new beginning.
Mathieu David Gagnon, the mastermind behind Flore Laurentienne, is a classically trained musician who grew up in Quebec and studied classical and orchestral music in France. Throughout the album, his experience and expertise shine—in the way he knows how to fill a room with sound, the way he draws you into listening to the record in its entirety, and the solid sense of personal style in his composing. The rich texture of the traditional instruments combines seamlessly with the synthesizers, creating a multi-layered listening experience that feels cohesive on every level. It is exactly as advertised.
“Fleurs,” the album's opening track, is a perfect introduction. The light, airy harp immediately transports you to a place of tranquility, like taking a seat next to a river and watching light reflect off the water. The transition between the string section and the synths is effortless, serving as an excellent teaser for what is to come. In fact, the main reason I chose to write this review was my first listen to this song. It was deeply reminiscent of playing a PS4 game from my youth called Flower—a soothing, gentle game where you play as the wind, collecting petals and bringing color back to a dead valley. The track gave me that exact same feeling.
“(À Travers Les) Chablis” was my favorite track on the album. The drama enters with a chaotic drum section that mimics raindrops on a roof, while swooping strings swirl and rush around the synthesizer. A sweeping crescendo draws you all the way up before gently pulling you back down to a romantic, fairytale ending.
As a whole, the album tells a vivid story. To me, it felt like listening to an ancient tree recounting its life from a single spot in the forest: growing from a sapling to a dilapidated, fungal log, enduring fierce floods and burning fires, until at the end of it all, something new emerges.
I loved this album from the very first bars. It is a beautiful, complete work of art; while the individual pieces stand alone, the project is stunning in its entirety. I immediately rushed to listen to the first two volumes, and I encourage anyone—even classical music doubters—to give it a try. Alternatively, if you find yourself hooked on the Moog synthesizer elements, you should definitely check out Mother Earth's Plantasia by Mort Garson.
