Traditional French pop music has always failed to cross
the Channel and create even a ripple of interest onto
the British public. Partly due to the Brit’s resistance
to anything not sung in English – the hype around
artists such as Air or Daft Punk, using English as their
primary mode of expression is a prime example of this
– French music has also for years suffered of
a serious lack of creativity and inspiration. To this
day, very few Gallic artists expressing themselves in
their native language have managed to be recognised,
even in the most elitist circles. Perhaps the only exception
to this is the late Serge Gainsbourg who has become,
over ten years after his death, a reference in what
French music should be. Despite the constant injection
of new talents, favoured by French law, which specifies
that every radio and television station plays at least
sixty per cent of Francophone music, Britain, and the
English speaking world for that matter, is still very
reticent to open its door to the more serious serious
continental artists.
Comes Julien Locquet, alias Dorine Muraille. A twenty-five
year old Frenchman who currently lives in Cherbourg.
Already responsible for an album for Artefact and a
series of 12” for a handful of other labels under
the :Gel moniker, Locquet teams up with Chloe Delaume,
a young poetess who was almost completely unknown until
very recently, but who’s second novel, Le
Cri Du Sablier (The Hourglass’s Scream) has
become a huge success in France after being awarded
one of the most prestigious literary prizes, to produce
one of the most daring records to come out of France
in recent years. Close to the bare sonic experimentations
of Fennesz or Oval, Locquet distil the popular musical
tradition of his native country with English folk elements
before perverting the lot by conscientiously cutting
it apart. Based on acoustic instrumentations (double
bass, piano and guitars), the sonic structure is then
processed through a variety of computer software before
finally being put back together. The addition of Chloe
Delaume disconcertingly abstract poetry and versatile
voice gives this project a fascinating twist. The treatment
she applies to her words is somewhat similar to the
process used by Locquet, and makes the simple notion
of understanding the ‘lyrics’ completely
redundant. Her remarkable diatribe becomes part of the
sonic landscape sculpted by Locquet, simply highlighting
the human touch that serves this astonishingly beautiful
record. Only the serious reworking of Brigitte Bardot’s
classic La Madrague seems to show some kind
of connection with the real world. The rest of the album
lingers in a state of semi-consciousness, shaping phantasmagorias
and creating sonic mirages with fucked up structures
and virtually no recognisable beat.
Far from the filtered radio-friendly disco that has
become emblematic of the French electronic scene, Julien
Locquet creates an exhilarating record, rivalling in
complexity with the work of the most forward thinking
musicians in this world. With Chloe Delaume adding her
tasteful creations and vocalise, Mani is a
hell of a poetic record.
5/5
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