La Maison De Mon Rêve is one of these
records that you either love or hate. Nothing can really
prepare for the dilettante approach adopted by CocoRosie
here, and the decidedly amateurish finish of a record
that has far more to offer than can be appreciated at
first. If the term lo-fi needed to be defined, it would
be by this album.
Although she trained as an opera singer in high school,
and despite receiving praises from the world of classical
music, Sierra Casady, who had began singing gospel and
spirituals as a child, wanted more than just belting
out pieces written by others. Composing new classical
material while performing is not always seen very well
in the sometimes precious world of classical music,
and Sierra decided that what she was looking for was
to be found somewhere else. Equally, Bianca spent years
trying to find a way to express herself, finally ending
up in Paris with just her sister’s phone number
in hand. After leading completely different lives for
some time, Sierra and Bianca were reunited through music.
It was only a matter of time before the pair started
playing together.
Recorded during the spring and summer of last year in
a tiny Parisian flat, this album is far more colourful
and, in part, disturbing, than it’s innocent title,
which translates as ‘the house in my dream’,
would lead to think. La Maison De Mon Rêve
resounds to the sound of blues, gospel, early jazz and
folk, yet everything here appears deceptively simple
and childish. The density of CocoRosie’s songs
is the fruit of the chemistry that exists between the
two sisters. The melodies have the kind of innocence
and sweetness of little girls’ playground songs,
the guitar lines are almost too plain to be taken seriously,
and the approximative beats and noises found scattered
here and there only accentuate the amateurish feel of
this record. Yet, it would be easy to dismiss this collection
of poetic blues/folk for something totally unsubstantial.
Between Vanessa Paradis and Billie Holliday, Nina Simone
and Maria Callas, the sisters’ voices whirlwind
around each other, play hide and seek, tease, twist
the mood and destabilising. CocoRosie’s lyrics
are as perverse as they appear innocent on the surface,
with tortuous tales of love, faith, devotion or sex
splattered all over By Your Side, Jesus
Loves Me, Tahiti Rain Song or Lyla,
and it rapidly becomes difficult to resist their little
universe becoming yours, if only for a moment.
This album sometimes proves difficult to sustain, even
over forty minutes. CocoRosie haven’t made things
easy for themselves here, crafting a strange and disconcerting
record out of almost nothing. La Maison De Mon Rêve
can only be appreciated under certain circumstances,
preferably when the mind is relaxed and slightly out
of focus. When the mood is right though, it becomes
precious and reveals its hidden beauties. If just for
these moments, this album is simply splendid.
4.5/5 |
