The Marseille troupe drive their infectious dance from the center of the olde worlde across the globe.
Tracing back the modern culture, especially the groovy one, one can make a point of its Mediterranean roots. And if a lazy siesta houses the anticipation of a moonlight serenade and crepuscular frenzy, this band keep the tension high on their sixth album, even when an unhurried sensuality is deployed as it is in the title track. Delivered in French and Langue d’oc to thrown an arc across the Atlantic to Brazil, the record puts forward the ensemble’s geographical origins in the mandolin-rocking “Occitanie Sur Mer” and the almost lachrymose “Tentacules”, where Blù’s acoustic lace nicely complements Tatou’s rich vocals that pack a quiet revolution in “Te’n Vas De Matin”. And if the hoodoo jive if “Tout Mon Temps” could have easily come from The Latin Quarter of both Paris and New Orleans, there’s a Balearic buzz to the gaucho-lassoing opener “Embarcatz!” and a Gallic undercurrent to the heady blues of “Mistral”.
Some other sort of hypnogogic keeps “Mon Drapeau Rouge” in check before it gains pace and its drone becomes dizzily frantic – only to fizzle out with a yé-yé girl ditty and seague into “Fada Republicana”, arguably the most serious song on offer. This kind of coming down after the relentless humor of the album’s first part is a perfect move, one of many to be discovered – and felt – here with repeated spins that “Artemis” rightfully demands.