The most anticipated album these days is a piece in French, European and mestizo languages, with timbres provided by electronic brushstrokes, Afro-Latin rhythmic pieces, strings of the Belgian National Orchestra and instruments such as the Portuguese cavaquinho, the Chinese violin. or Andean charango. Paul van Haver is the beautiful spherical pop puzzler where Stromae banishes nightmares and runs an evil grape while still pushing us onto the dance floor. Crowd comforts their famous second album Racine carrée in 2013, which glorified Stromae as a continental pop sensation and marked a tortured past in 2013: Papaoutai’s success marked the absence of a father figure, having lost his father figure at the age of nine. in the Rwandan genocide. It took almost a decade for Stromae to feel strong enough to overcome his confessed mental problems and finally release his third album, which seemed conscientious and conscientious, with celebration and endurance (barely punctuated by some camera roles and collaborations like Arabesque with Coldplay). blame..
alive and invincible
After two beautiful songs released in recent months, Santé (a number with a magnificent rhythm for the greater triumph of the working class) and L’enfer (a chorus of Greek tragedy and a crescendo that accompanies his song about loneliness and suicide with ominous squeaks), now another recital continues with ten survival and challenge songs. With its Bulgarian-style songs (from the Orenda Trio) and fighting tempo, under the overwhelming leadership of Invaincu, it is in keeping with a text in which he proclaims his cure for extremism: “As long as I live / I am invincible.”
Stromae manages to convey the catalog of sincere concerns in the Multitude without sounding like an obvious stance, conveying believability and mastery, and avoiding both sensation and frivolity. That’s what caught us in another time, and it continues to do so now, with that cross between frank confessional lyrics without vulgar vocabulary and a musical language that is both imperative and refined.
To la sense of solitude (against a perpetual dissatisfaction: being single makes you feel lonely and life as a couple wears you out), you should go to the syncopated rhythm with Fils de joie’s magnificent string arrangements. mother when they insult a son of a bitch) or the braggart Riez, whom he mocks at those who doubt his artistic potential. More elaborate, layered, and nuanced than their first two albums without sacrificing freshness, Multitude reaffirms Stromae’s strengths as a major pop creator as well as sincere. And above all, Bonne bets on the light in the epilogue called journée, where she confesses, despite all regrets, that “the glass is half full”.