Welcome back to Split Record Review! This week will be a bit out of the ordinary for James and me. If you’ve been reading this column for our introspective analysis on lyrics, you might be disappointed to find out this week’s record hasn’t got a lick of English.
Stromae, born Paul Van Haver, is a Belgian singer-songwriter with several chart-topping pop and house songs under his belt. Known mostly within the francophone world, his rise to fame came from his unique blend of French house and pop, singing and rapping in his native French.
His debut, “Racine Carrée,” topped charts around Europe. The record captivated audiences with its catchy hooks and poignant lyrics dealing with personal struggles and politics. Following this release, he entered a quiet period without many releases for the rest of the 2010s. He continued to be active in the music and fashion worlds, though a new release and live performances eluded him.
In 2022, the singer released “Multitude,” his first new release in seven years. The record brought a stylistic shift in Stromae’s catalogue. The classic house sound became overdone by the end of the decade, with many musicians and producers looking for ways to spice things up. For Stromae, this came in the form of incorporating styles from different cultures.
The record’s lead single, “Santé,” illustrates this stylistic divergence perfectly. A mandolin line uneasily leads the song. The track is wonky and angular, while still maintaining a danceable heartbeat. The heavy syncopation and Latin backbeat clash heavily, creating a rhythm that sounds almost incorrect, though it’s unbelievably precise.
“La solassitude” is a straighter forward pop track, taking a mellow break from the previous track’s energy. Stromae’s lyricism returns to introspection, dealing with themes of loneliness and isolation. “Fils de joie” takes the sullen mood up a notch, increasing the tempo and introducing a chamber pop feel over the same wonky Latin-influenced beat as “Santé.” The strings cut and stab through the track, taking center stage during the chorus. A harpsichord enters the instrumental during the grand outro, concluding one of the richest songs on the album.
“L’enfer” continues the ethereal and grim groove as the previous few tracks, opening with an uneasy choir singing a clashing chord. It returns during the chorus, with electronic stutters in between larger-than-life la-la-las. Synth horns blare throughout, sounding like a siren under Stromae’s voice.
“Pas Vraiment” opens with a flute line inspired by Arabic music before dissolving into staccato marimbas and a booming drum beat. The instrumental is much more barren than previous songs on the record, serving as a sparse break in between grandiose string sections and choirs.
“Mon Amour” might be the most syncopated track on the album, as it is nearly impossible to follow musically. One of the biggest strengths of this record is its effortless ability to use incessantly complex rhythms and phrasing while not alienating an audience used to pop and electronic conventions. While unmistakably “off,” it’s danceable and catchy in ways that even the biggest music theory progressive rock nerds struggle to pull off.
The album closes with “Bonne Journée,” a track that features trap elements and folk instruments. It has a uniquely Western-European feel, while incorporating elements from Latin American and African music. This marriage of cultures is found all over the record and is most interestingly unusual here.
The unconventional blend of styles and rhythms on this record make it one of the most unique and unmistakable releases of the decade so far. Stromae proves his seven-year hiatus didn’t come without bearing fruit at the end. While he had been known to combine French pop with house and world music, Stromae outdoes himself on this record, blurring the lines between house, pop and folk music in a confusing yet intriguing blend.
Rating: 4/5
Featured photo by Erik Mclean/Unsplash