 Air No other album that came out in 1998 gave me more pure enjoyment. Moon Safari is not a perfect record or anything, but I'm constantly drawn to it and play it a lot, and that says something, right? Right??? Anyway, ahem, ahem, the record offers a plethora of aural treats that alternately appeal to the mushy cheeseball, the music nerd, and the closet prog-rock fan in me. And let me set this straight – Air is not "electronica," (whatever that is) although they do use many electronic instruments, and predominantly keyboards. The sound is much more organic than most bands that have been labeled as such. If you have to go for a label, I suppose "chillout" is fine … you labelling fuckwit. But enough splitting hairs, what's important are the songs, and Monsieurs Jean-Benoit Dunckel and Nicolas Godin give us plenty of good ones. The album is one of those rare anomalies in 90s pop and rock: solid from beginning to end. Things start off boldly with the instrumental "La Femme D'Argent" (which you may have heard in some L'oreal commercials). It has all the choice bits … big whooshing synth sounds, mellow organ, Rhodes, a tasteful Moog solo, a fluid, occasionally funky bassline anchoring it all, soothing, synthesized "vocals," a real piano, tambourine, even good ol' handclaps, everything layered beautifully, slow-brewing and building, pulling back and kicking in just when you want it to. It's amazing that a pop instrumental can captivate me for a full seven minutes, but this manages, and leaves me begging for more. After this first musical facet, which I can only describe as a surprisingly unmessy combination of Mike Oldfield and Burt Bacharach, they come at you with the first single, "Sexy Boy." It opens with a low, croaky, distorted synth part that would be ominous if it weren't so over-the-top and the music weren't pure bubblegum. Then the vocals come in, with the title phrase being chanted over and over through a talk box. Can't fault that approach. The refrain is lighter, with French lyrics sung soothingly over the pulsating beat. Actually, I wish I had a French dictionary on me to translate, but I don't. F'UCK A'LL Y'ALL™! By this point Air has displayed both their prog-meets-pop and moody dancefloor-anthem tendencies, and here comes yet a third approach (perhaps the best of all) on the very, very pretty "All I Need." Co-written and sung by American Beth Hirsch, the result is a kind of folk/techno combination, but far more sincere and less obviously studied than other collaborations, such as the merely-okay, less tuneful combination of Beth Orton with the Chemical Brothers. Here, a strummed acoustic guitar is interspersed perfectly with the now-expected washes of keyboards. Hirsch's vocals are wonderful, not sung in a standardly pretty way but with simple and succinct directness, oddly but endearingly over-enunciated. It's the first very human moment in an album that thus far was filled with nothing but electronic (if wonderful) sound, and it really stands out. Let's hope Air continues further in this manner on albums to come. From here on out it's all variations on these separate approaches, but to the band's credit the quality doesn't waver. "Kelly Watch the Stars" was the second single, and betters "Sexy Boy" … it's full of bouncy exuberance, full-fledged vocoder-treated vocals from both Dunckel and Godin, and a breezy rollercoaster of synths and synthetic strings. Doesn't have a lot of heart-tugging substance, but that's okay in this case. "Talisman" is a rather moody instrumental, more in the background music, soundtrack vein, with a full orchestra and a quite dramatic climax, and is good contrast with its surrounding songs. The wonderful "Remember" follows, with the dual vocoders are used most prominently, and an organ pounded on in near-"96 Tears" style, plus surprising dashes of distorted guitar (there are great drawings of Dunckel playing a Flying V in the lyric sheet), and sampled drums straight from The Beach Boys' "Do It Again." It's catchy as hell. Beth Hirsch appears again on "You Make It Easy," which isn't quite as strong as "All I Need" but is still a treat. The instrumentation, as everywhere else, is always full of pleasing surprises, and the lyrics are refreshingly straightforward. The bridge is great, with glockenspiel, harmonica, and the orchestra reappearing, all to great effect, and then there's a weird, calliope-like keyboard near the end that swoops in and out of the mix, yet never gets in the way of Hirsch's affecting voice. Splendidly produced. The album closes with three instrumentals. "Ce Matin La" is a guilty pleasure: the homage to Bacharach on this one is pretty obvious. But the orchestral arrangement is great, and when the dueling tuba parts come in, followed by strings and harmonica (again!), and then wah guitar mixed with the wash of keyboards, I get chills of pleasure. They even use a shaker as a prime percussive tool, the bastards! The effect is like eating tons of cotton candy and not getting sick, which is fortunate because I've been trying to kick cotton candy to avoid that very problem. "New Star in the Sky" is next, and though it took a while to grow on me, it's now one of my favorites. Slow and languid, with breathy vocoder vocals coming in about mid-way, singing simply "My baby blue/Is a new star in the sky," it's perfect falling-asleep music. Quiet piano, lightly strummed guitar, samples of children playing, and a mix of Rhodes, Moog, and Mellotron sweep the song gently along. It gives me a sense of being very content, bringing back hazy memories of pre-school. After this, "Le Voyage Penelope" is a bit anti-climactic, but would still stand out on many other albums. It seems to be just a touch more concerned with style than substance, a balance that was nearly perfectly achieved elsewhere on the album. Still, it's a fitting closer, and a little more straightforward from a rock angle, with guitars and clavinet as the main drivers here, in addition to handclaps recorded so high they practically distort, and a not-unwelcome air of (very slight) menace. It ends rather suddenly (not in an Abbey Road way or anything, they're not that obvious about their influences), and the effect is kind of strangulating after so many songs that wrap themselves up so neatly, or that stretch themselves just enough without getting redundant. Some moments on Moon Safari are slight, coasting by on coolness instead of greatness. Still, I enjoy each song and all 43 minutes. The album manages to be winning and sincere despite belonging to a post-modern genre that is all-too-often self-aware to a fault. Air acknowledges their influences with a smile rather than a knowing nudge, an obsequious bow, or a winking and smarmy slap on the back of the head. A stunning, spellbinding debut.
Review by HIP |