Review Summary: The child that you’re too busy to pay attention to but you love with all your heart.
Generally when someone has a broad range of musical tastes they will find an album, listen to it, and then move on, placing it amongst the other dozens that have come before it. Occasionally you find something that you like so much that you come back to it regularly and it sits in your “regular rotation” list for months on end.
This is not that kind of album
This is the kind of album that you ignore for weeks, sometimes months, and dismiss because you have “too much other music to listen to”. Once it has your attention, however, it will take weeks for you to get over it. This is the kind of album that has you asking “why did I ever forget you?” because every time you come back to it you remember just how beautiful it was, just how much passion, emotion and energy is conveyed through the 20 tracks, only 3 of which are over 4 minutes in length.
The vast majority of this album is contemporary French folk music, the kind of thing you could envisage a band of buskers playing on the bustling streets of Paris. It’s largely due to Yann Tiersen’s proficiency with, and passion for, the accordion. Its notes dominate much of the album and it blends into the orchestra gorgeously. From the opening “J’y Suis Jamais Allé” (translated to “I’ve Never Been There”) Tiersen paints a portrait of France’s capital: culturally rich and lively. J’y Suis conjures images of the city beginning its morning routine, with a quiet string opening which rises into an accordion arrangement complete with a tinkling glockenspiel. It’s a short-lived piece, like much of the album’s tracks, but it’s nevertheless memorable. The more upbeat pieces, like “Le Banquet” are a pure joy to behold, making the listener feel as if they are not only within the world Tiersen conjures, but that they belong there.
Repetition is kept at bay by the inclusion of Yann’s other, obviously favourite, instrument, the piano. With its sweet, emotional tones and a zeal unseen in contemporary classical music (yes I am aware that is an oxymoron). The three songs that are purely devoted to the ivory keys, (“Comptine D'un Autre été: L'après-midi”, “Sur Le Fil”, and “La Valse D'Amélie" (Piano version)) are all passionate and beautiful. In particular the first of the three, with its back and forth rocking bass chords and sparkling lead, creates a somber mood filled with an ardor that soothes the soul. In contrast “Sur Le Fil” is dark and heavy, a slower, more depressing piece that picks up speed in the final minute and a half, but still retains its miserable feel.
Picking up speed, however, is a technique Tiersen uses time and time again, almost to the point of abuse. Its effective, that fact isn’t up for debate, just listen to “La Valse D’Amelie” (Orchestra Version) and tell me the final 40 seconds don’t entrance your ears and steal your soul with their beauty. It is a short lived high, unfortunately, yet another trend the composer seems to like; bringing you up to soaring heights and then bringing you down with a jolt. Some might say it is a bad thing, but I actually find it keeps the album interesting. The jolts stop me going to sleep when I’m basking in the space and time that the album transports me to.
