Charlotte Gainsbourg, IRM [Because Music]
Reviewed by: Christian Hagen
One of Charlotte Gainsbourg’s first major acting roles was starring as the title character in Jane Eyre, and, like the abused orphan who struggles for equality in Charlotte Bronte’s novel (thank you, SparkNotes and Wikipedia), Gainsbourg seems to be struggling to define herself.
No doubt, she’s had her share of shadows under which to creep; the daughter of British actress Jane Birkin and French singer-songwriter Serge Gainsbourg, Charlotte Gainsbourg comes from a long line of infamous artists. She recorded her first solo album in 1986 when she was only 15 (the first song she ever recorded, incidentally, was a duet with her father entitled “Lemon Incest”).
Listening to IRM, one gets the distinct impression that she still hasn’t figured out how to be herself. All but one of the songs were written and produced by Beck, so diversity in styles isn’t an issue. The songs move deftly from percussion-heavy droning (“Master’s Hands”) to electronic whirs (“IRM”) to classic piano-rock stomp (“Heaven Can Wait”) and even a hard-edged blues punch (“Trick Pony”). Musically, Beck might as well have done the whole thing himself. Really, all Gainsbourg has to do is lend her vocal chords to a few Modern Guilt throw-aways. But the act of donning characters while living up to her parents’ reputations appears to have worn her ability to create a distinctive vocal sound.
After 13 songs, with a master songwriter and producer behind her, I still don’t know what Charlotte Gainsbourg’s voice sounds like. At various points, she sounds like a breathy Feist, particularly on the gorgeously string-laden “Le Chat Du Café Des Artistes,” a more heavily produced Kimya Dawson (or perhaps Nico) on the playful “Me and Jane Doe,” even M.I.A. on the grating “Greenwich Mean Time.” But other than breathy and pitch-challenged, I’m not sure how Charlotte Gainsbourg sings.
None of this is to say that the songs themselves aren’t good. In terms of songwriting, the arrangements ebb and flow and the production slides beautifully from shining to growling, though never raw enough to become familiar with the singer herself. The combination of the beautiful and longing “In The End” and the rollicking, catchy single “Heaven Can Wait” (a duet with Beck, actually) is well worth a listen. Really, the songs themselves are beautiful, and it might have been a treat to hear the actual songwriter take a crack at them himself; in each track, one can hear the influence of Beck’s finest work, from Sea Change to Mutations and through his more recent albums. Hear the pain the simple guitar and lush orchestrations of “Vanities,” as the lyrics pour questions and possibilities from a wondering soul: “You could have it all/You could pawn it off/You could learn to crawl/where you used to walk.” It’s the closest we come on the entire album to seeing into the heart of the actress through her voice, though she only sings for the first half.
Now, Gainsbourg’s voice isn’t unlistenable. In many ways, it’s somewhat sweet. But sweetness is lost in breathiness and a monotonous lack of range. Thus, IRM fails in the same way that many actor-to-singer projects do; it’s not for lack of trying, but actors aren’t used to baring their inner selves, but rather pretending to be someone else entirely. Music thrives, even lives and dies, on the notion of the personal, of the power of honesty. It’s the reason that singers like Bob Dylan and Stephen Malkmus and Patti Smith and Karen O can evoke an emotional connection in any given listener. Actors, by their very definition, are dishonest for a living. The evocative nature of acting is not in its honesty the way music’s is. This is made all the worse when you sing music and lyrics that someone else has written for you, rather than something you’ve written yourself. Multiply that by Gainsbourg’s need to escape from her family legacy, and you’ve created an album that might mean something to someone, but to the listener, it’s mostly meaningless.
Rating: 69%
OMD: 71% (↑ 2%) Admittedly, a few if the songs are a better than I gave them credit for. Beck’s songwriting goes a long way to cover up the problems of this record. Still, Gainsbourg’s voice negates almost all power the songs have and renders many of the emotional moments flat and dull.