La Féline

Really not sure how this almost slipped through the net, but back in May I came across an intoxicating minimalist three track EP, "Adieu l'enfance", from La Féline. A project of Paris-based singer-songwriter Agnès Gayraud (who also plays guitar on the album) and named after both the Jacques Tourneur 1942 horror film and The Stranglers' 1983 album (rather apt then that the best known track is probably "European female"...), the band's EP - featuring as it does two amazingly different versions of the title track (no spoilers here - go and check them out for yourself) - served as a tantalising taster for an album that was eventually released last month.

The full-length album version of "Adieu l'enfance" is an intoxicating mix of eighties-influenced dreamy electronic synth-pop, guitar-tinged indie-pop all mixed with spell-binding vocals, and is yet another stunning example of how great music transcends language barriers... It is also an album that demands, indeed deserves, attention especially in the way that it seems to breaks down into distinct - yet conjoined - movements. Even the bonus track, "Nordet", a wonderful instrumental that is throwback to the early synth-pop rhythms of Depeche Mode and OMD is not only well worth waiting for, it also very neatly completes this album's circle.

"Les fashionistes (au loin)", the album's opener sets the benchmark. Ostensibly a wry observation on the 'sameness' of the Fashion police (or the 'Whitstable Trendies' of my youth), the surreal video (below) hints to the view of surroundings by someone who feels as if they are on the outside; looking in at a world they don't feel part of. Featuring as it does the dystopian vision of the socially deprived and changing landscapes of the banlieues of Paris (Bobigny, Bagnolet...) the song's hypnotic beat and Agnès' breathless vocal style creates a compelling soundtrack for the visuals of an at-times alien landscape...

 

I love the repetitive rhythms and the analogue synths of this track - it's very eighties and sounds like a popified version of  Chloé Robineau's (Robi) "Où suis-je" from her album "L'hiver et la joie" - it really does colour the desolate post-industrial landscape captured in the video perfectly.

"Zone" also revisits Robi territory - there's this must exhilarating - pounding - industrial synth soundtrack, there's extra bass resonance - and then about half-way through you notice the seamlessly added throbbing guitar and how the song has transformed into an indie-rock vein; there's some glorious vocal refrains - the whole effect is deeply reminiscent of Hannah Lew's  Cold Beat.

There's some seriously wonderful synth-pop on display here; "La ligne d’horizon" features yet more dreamy synth pop rhythms - and I was going to add a haunting brass refrain, but having checked the 'sleeve notes'  I'm guessing it's the rather trick programming of Xavier Thiry - the introduction of cello adds extra depth and poignancy to the coda... mirroring that of Agnès' voice. It's a song that feels like it should be primed to explode, yet somehow feels held-back or restrained, capturing the mood of the lyrics perfectly. However, it is the album's title track that is arguably the best. Kicking off with looped-vocals and the most gorgeous of synth-pop rhythms (that while they could have been written back in the eighties, sound arguably as fresh as if composed today). The vocals are breathless, spellbinding, the play between the electro-pop and more traditional indie and alt-rock, while richer than (say), Mathilde Forget is equally as effective. The chorus is uplifting, all heavenly multi-dubbed choirs and a song that does not so much regret the passing of a childhood moment as rejoice.

 

If this album was available on vinyl, then Face A would undoubtedly be the Electro-pop side. "Dans le doute" is the one exception to this rule - there's a deep penetrating monotonic bass that sounds like the steady fall of rain on the ground and which somehow Agnès' vocals manages to flit inbetween - it's deliberately downbeat and utterly compelling song that pervades the mind as Agnès wrestles with the dilemma, "I love you and I hate you..."

Face B is arguably more diverse. There are indie and alt-rock themes aplenty, and the beguiling a cappella "Rêve de Verre", a resplendent multi-dubbed choir and a hymn to the loss of innocence... Actually if I had this album on vinyl, I'd be seriously tempted to play the opening bars of "La fumée dans le ciel" backwards just so that I could work out exactly what Agnès is singing(!) There's a distinct electro-beat, but suddenly a gorgeous vibrato guitar transports us back to the sixties ('retromania' as Agnès might say?) The effect actually creates a timeless pop-song which expertly blends the familiar with the yet to be discovered...

And then there's "Midnight", a song that wouldn't sound out of place on The Cure's "Seventeen Seconds". Here is a song that I am fascinated by. It's depicts (to me at least) solitude and watching horrific images of social disorder and disturbance (in this case the Tottenham - North London riots - so there's an immediate resonance)
unfurl on TV, all the while waiting - alone - for a lover's return. Why the London riots in particular? I'm intrigued as to the back-story. Try as I might I haven't found an interview where Agnès explains this song - the closest I came was in the French blog Addict Culture and while my interpretation is pretty close to that of the interviewer - Agnès wasn't letting on!

It's my opinion that memorable albums are often personal and at times introspective. I've already decided that this is a great album - arguably amongst the best of 2014 - and from the quality of Agnès' lyrics I get the impression that this is a very personal album. The aforementioned "Adieu l'enfance" isn't just saying goodbye to childhood in general, it feels as if Agnès is recalling her childhood and that moment when something caused this idealised time to pass. Yet at the same time the sing isn't mournful, as if new challenges were there to be grasped. I'm also drawn to "T'emporter" - it's probably as close as this album gets to a love song - but one that hints at the enduring love that straddles the worlds of the living and the dead. There are some clever touches here, angelic - ghostly - choirs, haunting reverberations and a glorious refrain that's totally uplifting (and a bit Mylène)... And when I listen to "Le parfait état" I'm seriously running the risk of falling hopelessly in love with Agnès voice. This is such a beautiful and powerful, yet personal, song which just caresses and washes over you.

But to me the whole crux of the album is encapsulated by "Moderne". It's a song that is both melancholic and thoughtful; "I would like another cigarette, If I smoke I'll feel better..." There's a simple guitar accompaniment that just perfectly captures the moment. I love the air of indifference the lyrics help conjure; the constant background murmur from disassociated voices. But I'm intrigued by the idea that 'new' is in fact the old and newness is just a reinvention of the past. Agnès touches upon the idea of 'modern is old' in the pages of her Modern it's Already Old blog. The blog is a fascinating read - and I strongly recommend that you read it. Agnès writes about music, her influences, fellow artists, her thoughts and theories. I don't pretend that by reading this blog that I know her, but it helps me to not only have a better understanding of her music, but to also identify with Agnès as a person as opposed to La Féline, the band.

From her bio and Bandcamp page, Agnès has been making intriguing and innovative music for the past few years (which obviously hadn't filtered into my Stateside conscience) - I'll definitely be checking them out...

Frankly I'm blown away - touched - by this album. It is most definitely Year-Listed and arguably a serious contender for Album of the Year. Outstanding...

La Féline Website
La Féline's Bandcamp page
"Adieu L'enfance" (Bandcamp), (iTunes




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