a little bit o' Blue for the dads

I've just heard the new Sébastien Tellier album, or rather, I listened to his message (as he requests: "N’écoutez pas mon disque, écoutez mon message...").  On his new long-player, Monsieur Tellier seems to have swapped Sex for Religion, with maybe a bit of sex on the side (he sings of volcanoes, golden ladies, and a magical hurricane...). Or maybe Sex IS Religion?

The title of this latest opus is My God Is Blue, and Sébastien appears on the front, swathed in an azure glow, looking like the second coming of Jesus. Or possibly Dennis Wilson at his beardiest.

We find Sébastien adrift in a topographic ocean of the deepest blue, such is the expansive nature of My God Is Blue. The slick synth soundscapes of Sexuality have given way to great, big helpings of bombast: ecclesiastical choirs, fugual organs, prog-tastic arpeggiators, filmscore strings, and slick guitar histrionics.

In getting across his "message" he gifts us choral overtures, smooth mellotron confessionals, space-y disco musik (Cochon Ville), synth-rock operatics, pastoral folk with glass harmonica (Magical Hurricane), gently parping synthesized brass, and mournful piano. And Sébastien's voice drifts over it all, whispering sexual sweet-nothings in your ear.

Yes, like all great Frenchmen he takes his art seriously, but I also get the feeling Mr. Tellier had *whisper it* fun making this record. There are points when I've found myself almost laughing out loud at the brazen ludicrousness of some of the music: surely anyone who can follow the epic, Bolshevik-strings fuelled Russian Attractions with the syrup-y, lounge-soul of Mayday must have their tongue quite firmly lodged in their cheek?

In an era of quick fix mp3s and 2-second attention spans, you've surely got to have some balls to release an expansive concept album as ridiculous, pompous and brave as this. But that's just the way we like a Sébastien Tellier record.

[you can buy My God Is Blue direct from Record Makers]