Diving With Andy

5307060-7919958What’s the most perfect Autumn song? Les Feuilles Mortes? La Chanson de Prévert? The September of My Years? Celle qui by Diving With Andy certainly is a contender. It’s the only French song on the new (third) album by the duo. Remy and Juliette formed DwA in 2003, a trio then. They’re influenced by Elliott Smith, OP8 and Eurythmics, to name but a few. Juliette has a Sarah Cracknell-ish posh accent when she sings, the songs are delicate, well-crafted and very, very melancholic. Celle qui is the first DvA-song that’s totally in French – on the Benjamin Biolay-produced debut there’s an English-French duet with Coralie Clément. Also beautiful.

Diving with Andy – Celle Qui

Sandie Trash

If Charles Bradley is the Screaming Eagle of Soul, then Sandie Trash is the Screaming Siren of Chanson. She’s an FS-mainstaysandie-trash-gif, appearing on the first Filles Fragiles cd with her brilliant Jane B.-cover, Sandie just released a digital album and a beautiful double-10-inch vinyl record (one vinyl is blood red, yeah!) with her trademark electrofying French punque. It’s loud, people, really loud. But at times, Sandie gives the pedal a little rest, and shows her softer side. In this duet with Alex Rossi, for instance. Almost every French male-female duet has a Gainsbourg-Birkin ring to it. Which is nice.

Pendentif

Just a reminder, tomorrow the new album by Pendentif, one of the bestest French releases of this year, is officially out. Tho you can find it on Spotify already. Me, raving about that album, here.

Forêt

Regular correspondent SoCal Steve wrote a great piece on the Forêt album on his own blog – I stole it for FS:

And now to be added to the pantheon of “wow” and “what the fuck was that?” comes “Forêt”, the eponymous-titled debut album from the Montreal based duo of classically trained vocalist Émilie Laforest and musician / composer Joseph Marchand.

Similar to their Montreal-based compatriots Groenland and Hôtel Morphée, the duo have drawn back to a disparate past to put their stamp on the future. In the duo’s case they’ve distilled the complex atmospheric of acclaimed indie label 4AD stablemates The Cocteau Twins and Dead Can Dance, and mixed with the dark psychedelia of Portishead’s “Third”. The addition of Spanish guitar and subtle reverb weaves a surrealistic yet always edgy aural landscape.

Even upon a cursory first listen it’s immediately obvious that there’s a huge amount of love and attention been showered on this immaculately crafted album; Marchand’s flowing arrangements perfectly balance with LaForest’s haunting vocals, bringing life to award-winning Quebec-based poet Kim Doré’s atmospheric lyrics.
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The is perfectly balanced album, at times complex, at others, the very model of simplicity – slower numbers such as the ghostly “Je tombe avec la pluie” and the balladesque “Après la guerre” neatly complement “Le verbe amour” and “Corps maquillés”, where that aforementioned reverb hints at that slightly darker undercurrent that’s always present.

I mentioned a passing similarity to the early days of 4AD. Listening to this album, there’s a growing case to compare this album favourably with that label’s “super group” This Mortal Coil’s seminal album “It’ll End in Tears“.

High praise? Maybe… But trust me, this is a stunning debut album and it might well be that good…

Interviews here, here.

Scarlatine

When it comes to electro-pop, Canada has a great tradition, ranging from TransX to Mitsou to Fanny Bloom. Montreal-bases Scarlatine (nom de plume of Judith Brodeur-Rowe) paints a very moody picture, with several shades of black and grey. No wonder one of her tracks is called ‘Noir’. But Navire is the one to dive in to, building like a big wave, giving you the chills and make you want to get wet some more.

Dusty Springfield

I never turn down a guestpost, especially when it’s about Dusty. Adrian, take it away:

One of the great joys in life is being bowled over by a song that comes at you out of the blue, especially one that you’ve never heard before from an artist you love. Thanks to Joe Belock’s Three Chord Monte show on the mighty US radio station WFMU, I had one of those experiences this week.
9808-english-pop-singer-dusty-springfield-0x375-2It’s hard to believe that Summer Is Over by Dusty Springfield was consigned to the B-side of Losing You when it was first released in the UK in 1964. It’s quintessentially Dusty: a huge, barnstorming song that rises and falls, made even more thrilling by Ivor Raymonde’s sweeping arrangements. It was written by her brother Dion, under his Tom Springfield monicker, and Clive Westlake.
At this moment, giddy as I am, I feel it might be the greatest song ever recorded (even if it does rhyme ‘green’ with, er, ‘green’).
But, and here’s the thing, like many of her songs, and similar to other Brit girls of the 60s, she also recorded it in French. L’été est fini, with new lyrics by André Salvet, takes the English version and adds something of a softness to it, maybe because she was singing it phonetically in the studio. It was released in France on a four-track EP, simply called Dusty Springfield. The EP appeared in the UK, renamed, marvellously, Mademoiselle Dusty. Turn your speakers up, crank out both versions and wave summer goodbye.

Dusty Springfield – L’été est fini (Summer is over)
Dusty Springfield – Je Ne Peux Pas T’En Vouloir (Losing You)

Martini Ad of the Week

pinkcoverOf course they are as much an American band as Grand Funk once were. Nonetheless Portland, Oregon’s »little orchestra« Pink Martini will always be identified with their postmodernist faux French smash hit Sympathique, also known as Je ne veux pas travailler, which sold a few million copies around the globe. On their brand new album Get Happy, they broaden their ‘ollywood swing nostalgia world music style with lyrics in Japanese, Turkish, Mandarin and Romanian; they even start with a German lingo opener. You might’ve already guessed there’s also a wink and a smile towards France: Je ne t’aime plus is finest understated Gallic bossa easy listening. Even better, it features neo-chanson legend and enfant terrible Philippe Katerine on vocals, and goodness gracious, it doesn’t sound faux at all.

Pink Martini – Je ne t’aime plus