Demob Happy

FIRST PUBLISHED AT THE LINE OF BEST FIT

French windows

4/10

In 1994 a law was introduced in France by then culture minister Jacques Toubon protecting the French language. One of the outcomes of this globalisation-resisting move was that two out of five songs on French radio must be sung in la langue maternelle . It was a move that was seen by some as a kind of censorship and others as a way of promoting and protecting French talent and culture against a tide of (largely American) English-language influence. It is no coincidence that successful French artists who have found success abroad in recent times - Daft Punk, M83, Air, for example - have chosen to sing in English in order (I assume) to find a wider audience. This is a shame. While the language barrier may hinder English-speaking fans from appreciating Serge Gainsbourg’s brilliant word play, for example, it shouldn’t stop us appreciating his gifts as a sonic innovator. It is also typical of Anglophone fans to look upon non English-speaking music as simply ‘world music’ - a category that lumps an enormous spectrum of styles into a reductive and condescending pigeonhole. This is changing: music from French-speaking Africa in particular - long-embraced by the French, who have a tradtionally had a more inclusive attitude to the sounds of the African continent - is getting greater recognition in the UK: from Amadou & Mariam’s fusionistic pop to Toumani Diabeté’s soul-stirring blues. Meanwhile, fashionable indie artists (admittedly from the US) from Yeasayer to Vampire Weekend are employing a more pan-global sonic palette. However, French pop itself - cited as an influence on many artists from Feist to Stereoblab - is in a fairly sorry state. I would like to see more French music sung confidently in a language thought by many throughout the world to be the language of love but which is not recognized as such in a globalised music industry dominated by English.

All this in a round-about way brings me to Orouni: a kind of playful, folksy French psych-pop band from Paris who sing - and here’s the rub - in English. There is not a moment on the rather unfortunately-titled ‘Jump out of the Window’ [insert bad album joke here] that I don’t wish Orouni had stuck to their native tongue. The over-ennunciated vocals and whimsical, sugar-coated merry-go-round approach to melody grate over the course of a whole album. “Mr Baby wants to see you face to face, he’s the one of the best in the human race” begins the particularly annoying ‘A Greased and Golden Palm’, as I reach quickly for the skip button. OK, many native English-speaking artists have written worse lyrics but the general affected air of twee cuteness is somehow sharpened by the fact Orouni are not singing in their native tongue. They invite you to “try and imagine if The Shins were babies, or Leonard Cohen was happy” - neither of which is a particularly pleasant prospect nor really helps define what Orouni sound like. Rather they recall a Belle & Sebastien (’Air Hostess on a Mission’, particularly) bedecked with a candy-coloured Syd Barrett-meets-The Magic Roundabout ‘psychedelia’. Ourouni are at their best when they let a little cloud into their sun-filled universe - on the melancholy chamber pop of ‘The Only Pictures I’ve Got’, for example - but most of the album is steeped in Fisher Price melodies and sickly whimsy. There is a fine line between quirky and irritating, and it is a line that Orouni flirt with dangerously throughout ‘Jump out of the Window’.