I was going to start this by saying something along the lines of ‘what looks good on paper doesn’t always sound good on a record’ and then toss in a few triumphant examples by way of explanation. You know the sort I mean, The Raconteurs, Velvet Revolver, Electronic, Band Aid, the Liberal Democrats, the United Nations – something where the sheer weight of expectation grossly off-balances the end product. Something that looks pretty good at first glance, but sounds shit on closer inspection. But there weren’t any quite simply. Sure, I could have tossed in some idle dig at the Traveling Wilburys or Tron, both of which somehow managed to combine neat studio trickery with a complete dearth of ideas, but let’s be honest, nobody really expected that much of them in the first place, did they? But when someone tells you that Jarvis Cocker, Air, Nigel Godrich and the Divine Comedy’s Neil Hannon (well okay, a bit of a Tony Thompson figure, I confess) will all be appearing not only on the same record, but on the same songs, wearing the same jeans and sharing the same toilet facilities, then there’s few better reasons to start wetting yourself in my book, and few better reasons to start expecting huge explosive outcomes that promise to change your life forever. And though few things really ever live up to expectations (with the exception of standing in front of train, perhaps) the rather simple conflation of talents often yields something of value in itself and Charlotte Gainsbourg’s new album ‘5:55’, featuring all of the luminaries above, at least doesn’t disappoint in that respect, even if it’s not the last word on cool that many of us would imagine.
Recorded in Paris with seriously savvy English producer, Nigel Godrich in the Captain’s chair (Radiohead, Beck, Travis, REM, Paul McCartney), ‘5:55’ is the louche, low-key follow-up to the even loucher ‘Lemon Incest’ written and recorded with Charlotte’s father, Serge Gainsbourg and sung by the then 13 year old Charlotte in the hushed, semi-spoken, coquettish and gently worrying manner you’re likely to expect of such a project. And bar the ghoulish subject matter, ‘5 :55’ is really no different. Dreamy, chic and lathered in the rich, frothy bubbles of a chocolate foam bath, tracks like ‘5 :55’, ‘Tel Que Tu Es’ , ‘Beauty Mark’ and ‘Morning Song’ ripple with the moist, slippery ether of Air’s gentle keypads, nylon strings and characteristic liquid-bass patterns and unravel with the lyrical equivalent of smoke. That’s before you even get a whiff of the album stand-outs, ‘AF607105’, ‘The Operation’ and ‘The Song We Sing’ ; each of which boast the darkly humourous and larconic, thinly perverse observations of Messrs Cocker and Hannon in abundance and which peak with the wistful, spirally nursery rhymes of ‘Little Monsters’.
If it doesn have flaws (beyond the thoroughly analmolous, ‘Noctunral Intemission’) it’s that it sounds like a Jarvis Cocker solo-album without that lanky old wit on vocals, and with Gainsbourg herself occasionally struggling to keep the pace. But that’s only to be expected. Gainsbourg is an actress, and it’s only natural to be upstaged by such a fine, supporting cast. Especially if you’re just mouthing the words for someone else.
That said, ‘5 :55’ is a warm, embracing album, as delicate as egg-shells and star-studded as an Orion’s Belt. But is it the best album in the world? Is it ‘eck. But it’s a little Bobby Dazzler alright.