(02.18.05) Antoine Bédard has seduced M83; it is his string compositions
which grace their recently released Before the Dawn Heals Us (Mute, 2005). Now,
with his second release as Montag — Alone, Not Alone — he’s out to
entice the rest of us with his delicate micro-symphonies and elegantly
weightless pop. Shining with a digital polish, his analog melodies
and orchestral flourishes caper and cavort like Disney-fied animals in
a field of sunflowers while he and his vocalists (Amy Millan on two
tracks, Ariel Engle on one) wander through the trackless fields of
flowers in a haze of wistful nostalgia. Taken as a thematic
statement, the title of the record captures the dichotomy of the
modern creative process: the digital abstraction which huffs and
squirts and whispers across the tracks arrayed against the bountiful
echoes of the collaborative aspect of pop songs wherein the writer
directs a band, a string ensemble and a bevy of vocalists.
The slow brush of percussion and the wandering woodwind section of
“Figures of a New Color” paint a rain-swept city street (Paris, in my
mind, naturally), populated by the slumbering motion of forgotten
lovers, their nostalgia for their lost companions gently pushing them
along the water-stained streets. The melancholic narrative voice of
“All I See” drips with heartache, a palpable resonance behind his
words and the delicate and wry melody. Processed field recordings
sneak in for the last two minutes of “Perfect Vision” and drain away
all the Mazzy Star-esque heartbreak that has lingers in the wake of
Amy Millan’s voice. Clavecin, organ and brushed cymbal spin into the
early twilight in the penultimate “Exit Mélodie” as the
solitary odes of Alone, Not Alone draw to a conclusion; this final
fade is tempered, naturally, by a re-visitation of the song for the
last track by the combined percussion, strings and winds who have
provided material on preceding tracks, an affirmation of the belief
that not all solitary travelers are alone.
Alone, Not Alone is the sort of pop that I can still find enthusiasm
for: unobtrusive, wistful, innocent and filled with organic textures.
Antoine Bédard ‘s Montag clears my head as I consider how
transparent orchestral pop heard over my headphones seems like it has
been written just for me. The rest of the world can easily pass you
by while you pause to listen to Montag. That’s not a bad thing, and
you’re not alone while you step off the path. “Your life hasn’t
started yet,” Ariel Engle sings of “Grand Luxe.” Nor is it over yet,
either.
Alone, Not Alone is out now on Carpark.
