Raphael

La réalité (Capitol, France)
by Michael McCarthy

When I saw Raphael opening for Vanessa Paradis in concert two years ago, he rocked. His debut album, Hôtel de l’univers, also rocked. His sophomore effort, La réalité, however, does anything but rock. Produced by Jean Lamoot, the often piano-driven album has the vibe of a slow, droning Western movie. There’s also something very beautiful about it, the songs getting inside the listener’s head like unforgettable poems. With everything from the harmonica to Moog to Grand piano to Mexican bass, it’s a very textured work with lots of nuances you don’t hear until you’ve listened to the album many times. As if the wide variety of instruments weren’t enough, additional details are painted with samples. What I love most about the disc, which I suppose I’d ultimately end up classifying as folk somehow, is that every sound comes across as deliberate and vital. None of the textures seem pointless, and you get the impression that the songs all came out sounding exactly as Raphael heard them in his head. Lovely music for a mellow, contemplative Sunday afternoon. Although it just might inspire you to get up and travel aimlessly, particularly if you understand French.