Lazarus Heights 2024
Papillon
Out of Dordogne to spread their wings over the world, international troupe flutter to the sun.
When a band issue their debut album after almost two decades of existence, this record had better be good, and not only because there’s a classic “make it or break it” case in play, but also because a lot of effort put into the opus must eventually pay off. More so, since the quartet in question hail from France yet include two English musicians, the ability to cross borders, creative and otherwise, is in the ensemble’s blood, which should make their oeuvre rather interesting – and contradictory too, in terms of both content and context, as well as sonically. Of course, the results of such an approach are bound to reflect human nature, and applying an occasional faux-orchestral passage to heavy riffs and folk sensibilities will work wonders even when lyrics suggest certain indecisiveness.
This pretend diffidence might come to a head on the reading of “Next” that circles back from Alex Harvey’s histrionics to Jacques Brel’s hysterics once Dick Grisdale’s “Au suivant” roar and six-string flourish bring the piece to a close, and on the taut cover of Alain Bashung’s “Fantaisie militaire” that stresses the group’s Gallic roots but, in fact, the hesitancy is on offer from the start here. While titular cut sculpts a nervously pulsing, arabesque-decorated soundscape and strips hazy effects from vocals to bare the vulnerable confession of “I kiss your lips if I dare” before Paul Mouradian’s ivories deliver a cosmic solo and choir chants up the ante, the jovial, effervescent “Fall For You” reveals vibrant pop surface to emphasize the defiant refrain with “I won’t” prefacing the number’s tagline. Yet if “Murder Blue” that Simon Pearson’s bass and Jeff Gautier’s drums propel to rapture adds blues to the album’s arresting blend of styles, Grisdale’s guitar chiming in with jazz figures, the symphonic “Dry Martini” expands the platter’s scope further and wraps cinematic panoramas around a sometimes-stark groove until the sweetly painful “Drive” introduces demonic balladry to the proceedings to let the songs’ protagonist fly again.
However, there’s a different of drama packed into “Waterfall” that’s as boisterous as it gets for a romance to take off, and into the spaced-out rock ‘n’ roll of “The Joker” that’s alluringly gloomy. And though “The Living Room” is filled with seductive light and is soaring to embrace the ensemble’s elegiac leanings and dynamic range, the insistent “The Pleasure” goes for the jugular, aiming for the spot the record’s opener left exposed. And then, the mini-epic “Lazarus Heights” ties all these varied strands together in one vertiginous travelogue of a human psyche – a fitting finale for something worth waiting for a score of years. A mighty set.
*****
