Anti-
Yann Tiersen makes pretty music. Perhaps too pretty. Best known for his work on the Amélie soundtrack he’s an instrumentalist at heart working with harpsichords toy pianos and lots and lots of strings. Singing in English for the first time the words still barely register — his voice is used more as just another tool to add to the soundscape.
Tiersen knows full well how to pile on the sounds for maximum effect. His singing is another nice touch at times layering his vocals like Brian Eno or speak-singing in a low Tindersticks croon. He even throws in some heavier tones and fuzzed-out feedback periodically dipping into something resembling post-rock with its ever-mounting crescendos. But it always manages to find its way back — the inevitable resolution of soft pianos flutes and a nice big choral finish. Again very pretty.
The opening track “Amy” with its sweeping organs and softly plucked guitars manages to set the blueprint for the rest of the album. The eight songs float about rising and falling smoothly into one another like mini-movies. And with each song at five-plus minutes they are cinematic in every sense of the word. As such the album finds its happy ending in the rather sweet closer “Fuck Me” a duet that sounds more like an innocent invitation asking over and over to “make me come again.” Cute sure. Pretty yes. But definitely played just a bit too safe.
