Yann Tiersen
Skyline
Available now on Anti- (April 17, 2012)

Listening to Yann Tiersen’s Skyline feels a bit like catching up with an old friend. Perhaps you haven’t heard from this pal in a decade (the Amelie soundtrack), or maybe it’s only been a couple of years (Dust Lane). Either way, like a childhood companion you’ve run into on the street, you’ll find Tiersen aged but recognizable. And though you might have to get reacquainted, chances are you’ll enjoy doing it.

At first, Tiersen allows us to hear the side of him that we expect. “Another Shore” opens with a toy piano melody seemingly pulled from the past. That lasts for about three seconds, and then Tiersen begins to layer on percussion and guitar. Within the first minute, he has constructed a dynamic, instrumental rock track, cresendos retreating into softer, timid moments only to build up again.

But Tiersen has done more than find a new formula. On Skyline, experimentation abounds as he draws from a range of influences (think Air and The Books swapping stories with My Bloody Valentine and Do Make Say Think). “I’m Gonna Live Anyhow,” “Monuments,” and “The Gutter” are filled with layers of idiosyncratic sounds, alternately quirky and beautiful. That combination is well-trod territory for Tiersen, even as his choice of genre continues to evolve. 

On the whole, Skyline feels expansive and agreeably surreal. The notable exception is “Exit 25 Block 50,” with screams, hoots, and howls that seem an apt accompaniment to a small-town haunted house. These sounds eventually morph into something more tolerable, almost pleasant. Whether the listener will make it there is uncertain. Still, tracks like “Hesitation Wound,” “The Trial,” and “Vanishing Point” confirm that Tiersenhas found a balance between grit and transcendence. There is distortion, there is melody, there is aching and redemption.

If Dust Lane was Tiersen’s foray into the depths, Skyline is his emergence, changed but triumphant. It is a transformation that can’t be described as good, bad, or even stunningly original. But it is authentic.

 
Congo Sanchez
Volume 1
Available now on ESL Music (April 17, 2012)

There’s a hotel in Palm Springs, California, where the stars of mid-twentieth century Hollywood went to escape fame. Poolside, they relaxed in the sun, put cocktails on their tabs, listened to the latest breed of jazz. Still in operation, the getaway has perfected the art of retro-modern. Today, the young, hip, and rich sit in chairs designed by Eames and Saarinen, listening to an endless supply of remixed lounge. This summer, they will be listening to Congo Sanchez’s Volume 1.

But here’s the secret: Sanchez sounds just as good in a lawn chair by a kiddie pool. As with other albums from Eighteenth Street Lounge (home to Thievery Corporation and Ursula 1000), the music of Congo Sanchez surrounds its listener without necessarily drawing attention to itself. Sanchez claims a blend of Afro Latin dub, but that’s more of a garnish on ambient-electronic tracks like “Democrazy” and “Ghost Dance.” Cuban influence is more distilled in the rhythms of “Oleada Calor,” while the horn section of “T.E.T.O. (strut)” is clearly inspired by Afrobeat. All of this blends together in a seamless, worldly carnation of jazz.  

What we have here is practically a soundtrack for running through the sprinkler and grilling burgers. It’s as relaxing with a lemonade as it is with a gin and tonic. It is made of familiar ingredients, and yet you’ve never heard it this way. The percussion energizes, the bass line grooves, the synthy melodies and echos offer relaxation. My only complaint is that, at four tracks adding up to just over 17 minutes, it ends too quickly.