SMOKE & MIRRORS (vinyl)

Description

Summer of Love: they didn't experience the first, they thoroughly studied the second, and they're brewing the next. Bryan's Magic Tears releases their fourth album, Smoke and Mirrors, via Born Bad. The Parisian band, who maintain their reputation as "wide-eyed troublemakers" by elegantly demolishing their compositions live, will have their work cut out for them with this new series crafted in the studio with Marc Portheau, which should withstand their assaults. Still present in their previous albums, 4AM and Vacuum Sealed, the garage/noise culture is moving away without being forgotten. Benjamin Dupont (guitar/vocals) collaborated with Lauriane Petit (bass/vocals) on four tracks, but it's by recording each instrument that he confirms this pop coming-out. This strange animal is capable of getting excited about the most cutting-edge shoegaze while confessing an unexpected kink for All Saints. Aptly named, this new album playfully engages with stadium music while respecting its codes. It can be appreciated from various distances. But literally, yes, it's as if Shaun Ryder ate Liam Gallagher. With all shame gone, it churns out hits, backed by a wall of sound jointed by Raphaël Berrichon & Nicolas Boursier (guitars). The album is structured by that typical 90s shuffle beat, a syncopated two-flavor of drums-loops that Bryan was already flirting with... but now they're civilly partnered, and it's present in two-thirds of the tracks. The synth opening Crab Kiss will feel to some like an acidic reflux of Underworld's Born Slippy, which shows how heavily it leans into the nineties. It avoids crossing the Channel - and time - to seek baggy-compatible music. There are also many pockets on the synths, which complete this very textured melodic work (Fancy Cars). But Bryan's Magic Tears remains a band of versatile guitarists, capable of playing a My Bloody Valentine-esque glide, stacking compressed power-chords like Jenga, or setting perfectly mastered guitar-drum traps for the audience (the excellent Stalkers, which should allow drummer Paul Ramon to pull out all the stops). Lauriane & Benjamin share pretty much the same vocal style, alternating rhythmic phrases crafted like riffs (Death Row) and sweet, dragging, harmonious layers (Deep Blue). There's less Velvet than Ride in this album, a rounder sound, made for head-bopping, arms outstretched, stomping the ground with sneakers at a festival (Side by side). The album ends with Lady D, a clever slacker's dissertation on the subject 'Musically translating the expression "it's too much." 500 words, 3 minutes.' Acoustic guitar intro, strings on the chorus, warm melancholic-core vocals, flanger on the drums when lighting lighters... and placing spoons above. Because yes, it's still music for taking drugs to make music for taking drugs to listen to music. But it also works sober.