There’s always an added frisson when listening to music in a foreign language. Extra-sensory antennae and deeper levels of attention are demanded in order to attempt to understand the words expressed and the concomitant emotions and feelings being transmitted. The desire to empathise with the messages being communicated necessitate rigorous engagement and fully focussed consumption. How to best articulate the results is a mission I gladly accept. Mais bien sur.
Into this fray step Montréal’s French-singing Choses Sauvages (Wild Thing) with album nombre trois or III. Naturally it follows albums I and II. Straightforward, no messing about.
Sonically it’s a panoply of psyche-punk-funk and hipped-discordant-disco: metronomical mental melees, nerve-tingling noodling and jerkbop-clanging abound. Nine languorous earworms that will linger longer than most indie-pop longueurs.
Opener ‘Fixe’ (‘Still’) is anything but as it bounces in, flounces around and pounces upon the listener like a benevolent face-hugger from Alien, at once warm and soothing.
The A.I.-popalyptic ‘Incendie au paradis’ (‘Fire in Paradise’) addresses (I’m assured) the ever-surmounting existential issue of artificial intelligence, ‘its’ inhuman officious perniciousness and refusal to remain quiet (like an obstinate traffic warden) rendering the strong-willed amongst us edgy and gleefully embracing the tactile and the real, blissfully dancing the plight away.
Talking Heads’ ‘Remain in Light’ phase of horizon-chasing exploits inform both ‘Faux Depart’ (‘False Start’) and the standout track ‘En joue’ (At Gunpoint’), the latter broken up two-thirds in with an electro-segue that is crying out for a 12” remix. What’s Jacques Lu Cont up to?
The closing ‘Big Bang’ slows the (s)pace, a kosmische meets jazz resetting of the consoles for the art of abandon. Turn up, tune out, drop in.
The French-Canadians are coming. Get your Duolingo on the go.
