.jpg)
Here we are with the second part of Split Record Review! If you missed it, Henry reviewed “Multitude” by Stromae, an eclectic Belgian hip-hop and electronic musician. The French J.I.D. is now notable for his contributions to the “Arcane” soundtrack, yet he’s been in the game for 25 years now.
The 2022 album sees Stromae evolve for the first time in nearly a decade since his previous album, as health complications delayed him from releasing music and touring. While my vision of French pop is shaped by soft-spoken French singers from the 1950s and ‘60s crooning over orchestras, it was enlightening to hear the language in a modern musical context, especially with Stromae borrowing from other cultures to cultivate a unique sound.
Concerns about the quality of this record were brought on by “Undefeated” and I’ll be using the English translations of the titles. Stromae should’ve given this introductory track up to the royalty-free gods because it uses the drum beat and rap cadence of a half-baked motivation song, complete with a young choir. However, the second track and lead single, “Santé,” all but evaporated my worries.
“Santé” is partially inspired by a Colombian style of dance music called cumbia, making for a great blend of traditional and modern styles, as the mandolin juxtaposes the EDM-influenced chorus. The second verse is very passionate, and the rhythm easily carries the track to the end. As someone confused by how different artists can be distinctive in genres like reggaeton, which “Santé” is akin to, the track has merit.
On “Son of Joy,” another single, Stromae gets a bit sassy with vocal inflections that continue throughout the record. The less digital and grand ending is welcome. As Henry mentioned, there’s a harpsichord that gives the monotonous track a second wind. “Hell” is the epitome of 2010s future bass, and while the lyrics add substance from what I’ve read, one can tell Stromae’s sound palette is dated.
A falsetto-esque delivery is used on the following “It’s just happiness.” For being such a flagrant person, Stromae’s voice does get flat from time to time, so the extra whimsicality here is a plus. On “Laugh,” though it doesn’t use that same delivery, Stromae projects his voice in the chorus while his background vocals are similar to those of James Blake.
“My Love,” which the Spotify version includes twice with a remix featuring Camila Cabello, includes many of those isolated grunts, gasps and inflections that make the track comparable to one by Bad Bunny or J Balvin, from what I’ve heard of their music. The tropical vibes are a boost in mood for “Multitude,” complemented by the music video for Cabello’s remix.
Henry talked about the closer, “Good Day,” so I’ll shout out the previous track, “Bad Day,” for its excellent use of brass in the chorus along with a more straightforward rhythm. Disregarding the lyrics, the brass and whistling help build to a defiant finish, yet the generic trap style of “Good Day” feels misplaced as a result.
There is more to chew over sonically on “Multitude” than the formulaic French pop of times past, but I prefer the prestigious regality of that era over Stromae’s efforts. This album was an engaging listen, yet he’s been creating for almost three decades now, so I expect more. Hopefully, he’s in better health and spirits these days; maybe his next album will be worth checking out, but it isn’t worth waiting many years for it.