Véronique Bilodeau
At the time I remarked that I couldn't believe that Véronique hadn't been snaffled by one of the Province's record labels and indeed I'm slightly saddened that it has taken her two years to put together the funding for her debut physical release - or as Véronique refers, her 'calling card' - the five-track EP "Les croches et les côtes."
This EP doesn't stray far from the folk-tinged pop of Véronique's earlier singles - which are revisited here - but the truth is, when every song is expertly arranged and constructed with melodic guitar, piano and rich orchestral strings that are all topped-off by the most perfect of crystalline vocals, why fix something that patently isn't broken?
The EP's opening track "J'ai tout mon temps" can be interpreted as Véronique's manifesto. Rallying against being a manufactured pop-idol ("...A face on the screen... who is replaced all too easily and forgotten with time...") Véronique is here to leave her mark on her terms - "...Mon âme n'est pas à vendre..." / "...My soul is not for sale..." - which leaves me wondering as to whether the Québec labels have been knocking, but their offers were one that Véronique felt she could refuse (just - I hasten to add - wild conjecture on my part...) It's a seemingly effortless tune - the song's verses find Véronique accompanied by just an acoustic guitar, but as steel guitar and piano join forces the melody erupts into one of those uplifting refrains that drew me to her compositions in the first place.
When I first heard "Sans les mots" I remarked that here was an achingly-beautiful folk-tinged romantic ballad that touched on that telepathic relationship that couples share. There was that combination of velvety-smooth vocals and harmonies, all fleshed out with acoustic guitar, piano, accordion and double-bass. Here - revisited and reimagined - stripped and slower tempo, the song adds even more focus on Véronique's voice. It's a test she easily passes. There's a deftly-struck balance between acoustic guitar and her delicate and seductive tones (just check out the whispered Rien on the penultimate verse...); orchestral strings add a touch of solemnity and depth and the song sounds as fresh as when I first heard it a couple of years ago.
When Véronique posted "Moncton" on her Bandcamp page I wrote that for all the underlying sadness, the song was actually a statement of intent. Véronique didn't so much run away to this New Brunswick town but rather to regather her thoughts; to reassert herself and start afresh. Like all of Véronique songs it's incredibly autobiographical and features her by now trademark soaring chorus with a new found confidence to her voice. In fact the importance of this song is explained by Véronique in her intimately personal blog. "Plus rien à donner" is again autobiographical and introspective. The tone is slightly subdued - arguably this is Véronique at her most reflective, as occasionally tinged with self-doubt she reflects upon the issues that ultimately would come to ahead in "Moncton." But even here there's that upbeat refrain, accompanied by the warming tones of the cello. In an interview, Véronique suggests the song came about through the result of constant questioning of her projects and plans, and whether it was worth continuing. I suspect this EP answers that question...
The EP closes with "Respirer" and a song that perhaps best encapsulates Véronique's life - escaping from the goldfish bowl of Montréal for the 'real life' of Acadia - driving along the winding Route 132 (at just over 1000 miles, the longest road in Québec, fact fans) to the coast and the freedom and release to be able to write and as the song's title suggests; "...J'apprends à respirer..." / "...I'm learning to breathe..."
I consider Véronique Bilodeau to be amongst the Nouvelle Vague of Québec artists and to be honest I'm dead chuffed by this EP, one which I heartedly recommend...
Véronique Bilodeau (Website)
"Les croches et les côtes" (Bandcamp)
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