Portico Quartet. Efterklang. Even Maroon 5. The influences of jazz on pop music might fly largely under the radar, but they’re not insignificant. Some of the proponents of the kind of blended tones that encapsulate the setup – the magnificent Portico Quartet in particular – are amongst the more interesting, sometimes less-heralded artists of the last few decades.
Manuel Bienvenu, formerly of a duo called ELM, is big, as per the cliche, in Japan as well as his native France. His writing has elements of distinctly French soul, the playfulness of jazz, as well as a sultry, tropical romantic vibe on his new album ‘Oh Do We’. It’s a record that features vocals, but layered relatively deep in the mix, their use as much instrumental as they are wittily poetic. On ‘Summer Rains’, for example, he transports with a vaguely loved- up track featuring a rain-drop percussion chorus and a vibe that transports straight to a midsummer love story, the feel of bright sunshine and upbeat melodies.
Bienvenu’s style is one that can come across as almost off-the-cuff, like he’s throwing in new layers to the sound, for fun, in the middle of a stage performance, but has the delicate musical sensitivity to ensure he only adds textures that provide both depth and enchanting detail.
The big single is ‘Combini’, though picking out a single in what is a playful mix of work, a recorded experiment, is not an easy thing. ‘Combini’ has elements of Morcheeba’s ‘The Sea’ in its beach-side feel, and others that evoke a street-side orchestra. The track’s twisting direction places Bienvenu on the margins having his own fun, serving up an almost trippy feel to the bigger picture, like 3am in a club sideroom where the beats are toned down to a head swirling space.
‘Here Comes’ feels almost like an interlude, with robotic spoken word over the top of Bienvenu’s more typical delicate refrains and indie-pop guitars, while ‘Nureta Bara’ is the slow-build moment, a darker refrain loaded with playful twiddling. It comes together at its heights almost like one of Sigur Ros’ quiet corners, before trailing away in a whirl of jagged vocals.
On ‘1493’, which opens with a piano piece that feels a little like a francophile version of ‘When The Saints’ before its overlaid with beautiful multi-language lyrics, is unlikely to ever pop up on your local radio station, but is about as good an uplifting head-clearing track as you might hope to hear.
At nine tracks and 45 minutes, Bienvenu is hard to pin down. He’s willfully odd, relentlessly transporting, and seems to make a point of twisting his music in all kinds of diverse directions to keep it interesting, perhaps as much for himself as his audience. He clearly doesn’t particularly set out to please, and the whole thing feels like it breaks many of the ‘rules’ of conventional pop composition. Strung together, it’s not always brilliant, but it is amongst the most interesting albums we’ve heard in some time; a beguiling mood enhancer.