Francoiz Breut: swollen with quiet emotion

Melissa Swingle and her country cohorts in Trailer Bride have done it again. High Seas, their newest release on Bloodshot Records, walks down Main Street like a lanky gunslinger who’s never missed a shot. It’s not too ironic, it doesn’t overdo the whiskey talk; in fact, there’s no bullshit at all to be seen around these parts. Trailer Bride’s the real thing, and they’ve simply honed their sound for a solid new album.

Stereolab: c'est -- how you say en anglaise? -- "boring," peut-Ítre?

Want less Americana, more Francophonia? By all means skip the latest Stereolab effort, Sound Dust (Elektra). After kicking off with a couple encouraging instrumentals that show curious avant tendencies, this poor CD thuds to a dead stop. Self-consciously quaint pop arrangements and too-cute country twinges make me yearn for the group’s early days on Too Pure. Put your francs down instead for the beautiful, haunting Vingt a Trente Mille Jours by heartbreaking chanteuse Françoiz Breut (Bella Union). Subtle, but swollen with quiet emotion, Breut’s voice and inflection mesh perfectly with dreamy arrangements that range from sparse to flowery. Melancholic mood music should always be this delicious (especially the songs "L’Affaire d’un Jour," "Silhouette Miniscule," and "Le Verre Pilé").

Breut is the best thing since Serge Gainsbourg sang his "Bonnie & Clyde" with Brigitte Bardot, but Tori Amos is also hip to the B&C vibe, looking fabulous in her retro-Bonnie outfit. She’s taken on a bunch of songs by guys like John Lennon, Boomtown Rats, and Depeche Mode with her new release, StrangeLittleGirls (Atlantic). It’s not genius and it’s not consistent, but it is good fun. Of particular interest are her super-creepy, whispery version of Eminem’s "’97 Bonnie & Clyde" and a swooningly gorgeous "Raining Blood" that makes my retro-Gothic soul cry aloud for another glass of absinthe to go with that last dropperful of laudanum. (It’s a SLAYER cover!! How cool is that?)

That’s it for this issue’s Quickies. Now, go buy yourself a whole bunch of lovely new compact discs (it’s patriotic to consume, after all). And remember to support your local music community! Go see a show. You’ll feel a lot better than if you stay home and watch re-runs of "Touched By An Angel." I promise.

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