5 out of 5

I own a lot of albums I love. But, admittedly, a lot of that love comes with an asterisk: that I had to learn to love something in some way. There’s also an ephemeral quality to that love; not so much that my tastes change completely, but certain singles may overwhelm the overall vibe of a listen until the sheen wears off, and it goes from love to like.

So the rarer version of this is probably obvious – it’s an album that I just unequivocably love. I don’t have to build it up or frame it; and it’s a tamer feeling compared to the latter scenario above: the music plays, and you just kind of calmly realize that it’s exactly what you want.

The Un Je-nai-sais-quoi label has a great trackrecord with me, but it’s not one I can predict. They are, to put it kindly, pretty artsy-fartsy, and that has a tendency to rub me the wrong way… except that their selections mostly successfully marry that spirit of experimentation and “meaning” with musicality. It’s stuff I can actually listen to, and then get doubly rewarded by finding my own meaning within the material, and combining that with my feeling of the artist’s intents. Some of the members of Le Grand Couturier are part of the UJNSQ family already, and have been subject to this unpredictability; I enter into the listen of the trio’s debut with zero expectations.

Le Grand Couturier is noisy. But it’s a kind of noisy that can pass for beauty; that can pass for accessible. That does not mean it’s not those things, but there’s an amazing push and pull within its application of Hawaiian / Polynesian rhythms and motifs and post-rock / free-jazz skronk that really pushes it into unique territory: sway gently to the tunes, but you’re also kind of sweating and uncomfortable while doing so. I love that dichotomy, and it’s very masterfully tuned to different ratios throughout the album, starting out fairly playful – almost easy listening – until midalbum Adventures in Paradise masks that same playfulness in a wash of noise, and things start to get more broken and less “human” in the tracks thereafter.

As wanderingly alluded to, though, even during those playful sections, it’s not just that; you don’t have to wait for midalbum for things to get more challenging. It’s just the framing of any individual song, and how safe you feel in its rhythms before the band breaks out. Opener Fanta Cinq logically starts out very familiar and chill, though the production which emphases a sharp low end may indicate some things to come, as experimental keys / sounds and repetition kick up towards the song’s conclusion. Followup I Ku’u Wa Li’i Li’i is another take on a similar progression, with the vocals and music feeling pretty traditional, spreading the traditional elements more thinly as the second tick by. Maneki Neko introduces less shiny emotional notes, while I One Huna Ka Pahu is suddenly like you’ve tuned into a poorly broadcast radio station. Then its time for Adventures…

Le Grand Couturier takes us on a brilliant journey, fulfilling some of the bandcamp copy of stepping from the Exotica movement into the violence of today’s world, echoed in fascinating cover art from Marion Jdanoff and its patchwork colors and symbols. At the same time, you don’t have to read that or see that to be on the journey: such is the strong, guiding hand of the musicians that I believe most anyone can get swept up in its initial gentleness, and onward to its emotive explorations.