Josianne Paradis

A couple of years ago I wrote about the Montréal-based auteure-compositrice-interprète Josianne Paradis after I stumbled across her EP "De Lorimier" which, with its four slices of perfectly-formed contemporary adult-pop, led me to not only snaffle her back catalogue but also left me hoping that the EP would serve as a precursor to a new album. And while I may have to yearn a little while longer for that album, Josianne is back with a brand new recording - "Face A, Face B" - that recalls those double-sided singles of yesteryear...

It only takes a few seconds and the opening bars of "Au présent de ma vie" to make me fall hopelessly in love with Josianne Paradis all over again. Her introspective texts are woven alongside beguiling guitar, the richness of the double bass, the warming orchestral notes of the clarinet and trombone, and  sparse piano keys to create an image of tranquility and solitude - a moment of contemplation set against the vastness of a cinematic vista. Cleverly, Josianne leaves it to the listener to conjure up their own vision of this idyllic paradise - perhaps a deserted beach, waves gently lapping along the shore; a windswept hinterland or perhaps the mysticism of the arid desert... However, the beauty of this song is that the physical location isn't important, this is all about finding a spiritual belonging - the place where Josianne is at one with the world; "...Quand je l’aurai trouvé ce lieu, ce monde entier, J’espère pouvoir y habiter ..." / "...When I will have found this place, this whole world, I hope to be able to live there..."

But if "Au présent de ma vie" is the 'Face A' and a song that alludes to inner calm, the "Tant bien que mal" of 'Face B' portrays body and spirit in turmoil. Noticeably darker, Josianne further develops this theme of solitude, but turns everything upside down. Here seclusion equates to the nagging pain of emptiness, an aching longing created by absence - perhaps of a lover, love itself or the shattering of a dream. The song's melancholy score - heightened by mournful and sombre brass - reinforces this air of despair. Josianne's sorrowful vocals are  married to intelligent - poetic - lyrics ("...Mais toujours ce silence, Sentir,  L’étau lourd de l’absence, Mais toujours en silence, Choisir le pas de la patience... / ..."But still this silence, To feel the heavy stranglehold of absence, But always in silence, to choose the steps of patience..."

On her website Josianne describes "Face A, Face B" as a diptych - a hinged painting which can be folded in on itself - but in many respects "Face A, Face B" is a two-way mirror. In her reflection Josianne sees the image of solitude she  portrays, looking through the mirror reveals the alternative... More importantly it confirms Josianne Paradis as one of Québec's most articulate, elegant and effortlessly personable of singer-songwriters...

I'm guessing that I'll have to wait a little while longer for the album?

 Josianne Paradis (Website)
"Face A, Face B" (Bandcamp)