Italy-based Canadian artist CECILIA (aka Mélissa Gagné) finally follows up her 2018 Halcyon Veil debut with a suite of sublime "ego-free solo jams" she sculpts into sensual, moonlit rituals.
Yet again, CECILIA's powerful voice carries her sophomore album. Chanting, freestyling and howling at the moon, CECILIA drops all pretenses on 'CHOEUR', channeling "the poetry of different lives that might have been her own or might have only existed in dreams." Her production this time around is relatively sedate, produced spontaneously last year in a flurry of activity. The record slips off the timeline repeatedly: on 'Birth', she coos over garish slap bass twangs, chopped police sirens and detuned Badalamenti-style organ vamps while industrial rhythms hover somewhere in the distance, and on 'Extase Du Soleil', mouthes words in French into a blackened smoke of cinematic woodwind gasps and staccato piano stabs.
It's an album that sips its lifeblood from classic French and Italian songwriting, but flat-out refuses to take an easy path, confusing its arrangement with dissociated, vaporized electronics and theatrical excesses. And while it's not an easy listen, it's never dull.
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Italy-based Canadian artist CECILIA (aka Mélissa Gagné) finally follows up her 2018 Halcyon Veil debut with a suite of sublime "ego-free solo jams" she sculpts into sensual, moonlit rituals.
Yet again, CECILIA's powerful voice carries her sophomore album. Chanting, freestyling and howling at the moon, CECILIA drops all pretenses on 'CHOEUR', channeling "the poetry of different lives that might have been her own or might have only existed in dreams." Her production this time around is relatively sedate, produced spontaneously last year in a flurry of activity. The record slips off the timeline repeatedly: on 'Birth', she coos over garish slap bass twangs, chopped police sirens and detuned Badalamenti-style organ vamps while industrial rhythms hover somewhere in the distance, and on 'Extase Du Soleil', mouthes words in French into a blackened smoke of cinematic woodwind gasps and staccato piano stabs.
It's an album that sips its lifeblood from classic French and Italian songwriting, but flat-out refuses to take an easy path, confusing its arrangement with dissociated, vaporized electronics and theatrical excesses. And while it's not an easy listen, it's never dull.
Italy-based Canadian artist CECILIA (aka Mélissa Gagné) finally follows up her 2018 Halcyon Veil debut with a suite of sublime "ego-free solo jams" she sculpts into sensual, moonlit rituals.
Yet again, CECILIA's powerful voice carries her sophomore album. Chanting, freestyling and howling at the moon, CECILIA drops all pretenses on 'CHOEUR', channeling "the poetry of different lives that might have been her own or might have only existed in dreams." Her production this time around is relatively sedate, produced spontaneously last year in a flurry of activity. The record slips off the timeline repeatedly: on 'Birth', she coos over garish slap bass twangs, chopped police sirens and detuned Badalamenti-style organ vamps while industrial rhythms hover somewhere in the distance, and on 'Extase Du Soleil', mouthes words in French into a blackened smoke of cinematic woodwind gasps and staccato piano stabs.
It's an album that sips its lifeblood from classic French and Italian songwriting, but flat-out refuses to take an easy path, confusing its arrangement with dissociated, vaporized electronics and theatrical excesses. And while it's not an easy listen, it's never dull.
Italy-based Canadian artist CECILIA (aka Mélissa Gagné) finally follows up her 2018 Halcyon Veil debut with a suite of sublime "ego-free solo jams" she sculpts into sensual, moonlit rituals.
Yet again, CECILIA's powerful voice carries her sophomore album. Chanting, freestyling and howling at the moon, CECILIA drops all pretenses on 'CHOEUR', channeling "the poetry of different lives that might have been her own or might have only existed in dreams." Her production this time around is relatively sedate, produced spontaneously last year in a flurry of activity. The record slips off the timeline repeatedly: on 'Birth', she coos over garish slap bass twangs, chopped police sirens and detuned Badalamenti-style organ vamps while industrial rhythms hover somewhere in the distance, and on 'Extase Du Soleil', mouthes words in French into a blackened smoke of cinematic woodwind gasps and staccato piano stabs.
It's an album that sips its lifeblood from classic French and Italian songwriting, but flat-out refuses to take an easy path, confusing its arrangement with dissociated, vaporized electronics and theatrical excesses. And while it's not an easy listen, it's never dull.
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Italy-based Canadian artist CECILIA (aka Mélissa Gagné) finally follows up her 2018 Halcyon Veil debut with a suite of sublime "ego-free solo jams" she sculpts into sensual, moonlit rituals.
Yet again, CECILIA's powerful voice carries her sophomore album. Chanting, freestyling and howling at the moon, CECILIA drops all pretenses on 'CHOEUR', channeling "the poetry of different lives that might have been her own or might have only existed in dreams." Her production this time around is relatively sedate, produced spontaneously last year in a flurry of activity. The record slips off the timeline repeatedly: on 'Birth', she coos over garish slap bass twangs, chopped police sirens and detuned Badalamenti-style organ vamps while industrial rhythms hover somewhere in the distance, and on 'Extase Du Soleil', mouthes words in French into a blackened smoke of cinematic woodwind gasps and staccato piano stabs.
It's an album that sips its lifeblood from classic French and Italian songwriting, but flat-out refuses to take an easy path, confusing its arrangement with dissociated, vaporized electronics and theatrical excesses. And while it's not an easy listen, it's never dull.