Daniel Bélanger: Rêver mieux
Rêver mieux is the latest release from Québecois chansonnier Daniel Bélanger, and is only his third studio release in a decade of recording; his last studio album was 1996's Quatre saisons dans le désordre, though in the interim, 1999's superb three disc live set, (an impressive feat for a man who at that time had only two albums to his name!) Tricycle, was released to tide us over. As a result, each of Bélanger's offerings is long anticipated, and each of his releases is a major event. I should probably preface an assessment of the album by a few comments on the genre in general. It is not uncommon for non-francophones to dismiss the entire range of French or Québecois singer-songwriters out-of-hand, based, I believe, on misconception and a failure to perceive some fundamental differences of approach. Singers like Bélanger are working from a slightly different tradition than the bulk of anglophone pop singers. The French chanson, rooted in medieval minstrelsy, most associated with mid-century French singers from Edith Piaf through Jacques Brel, puts by far the greatest emphasis on the lyrics; unlike anglo pop music, in which the words are all too often a mere afterthought, this is poetry set to music. As such, the latter often takes a backseat; while melody is certainly critical in delivering the poetry, the rest is, to some extent, mere accompaniment - it must not, above all, interfere with, or draw attention away from, the lyrics. As a result, some lesser artists pay less attention to the music than perhaps they should, and are satisfied with rather tepid settings and arrangements; as often as Anglo pop is easily satisfied with utterly moronic lyrics, as long as there's a great riff. This is what, I think, turns off some non-francophone listeners: used to basing an immediate judgment on the musical side, we perhaps turn away before allowing enough time to discover the lyrics. It is in this context that we should consider the achievement of a singer like Daniel Bélanger. He is, without a doubt, one of the greatest singer-songwriters Canada has ever produced; and anyone interested in exploring contemporary Québecois pop would do well to start here. Bélanger's music, centered on his acoustic guitar, is extremely engaging and beautifully crafted, but without ever being allowed to distract from the lyrics. This is, perhaps, a slightly smoother production than some might be used to; but the listener would be well-advised to hold steady. As one begins to absorb his lyrical bent, the depth and the edge inherent therein bring an immediate reassessment of the entire work, the music is seen within its rightful context, and the power of these songs begins to be felt. Let's continue, then, with a discussion of the music on Rêver mieux before looking at the lyrics. Bélanger's music has always been of a guitar-based, rock-oriented approach, with careful attention paid to creative production and engaging textures, but without pushing the envelope too far or being too overtly experimental. Each album pushes the production a bit further than the previous: his superb debut, 1992's Les insomniaques s'amusent, featured an impressive array of musical styles, changing constantly between simple acoustic guitar accompanimnet, rock, piano balladry, radio-friendly pop, blues, and more, but remaining accessibly within the bounds of each genre; Quatre saisons dans le désordre, while for the most part centered more around a traditional rock line-up, allowed more space for creative production touches - carefully constructed (but never intrusive) ambiences, constructed of atmospheric guitar, and particularly of far-ranging vocal brush-strokes, as well as some occasional creative use of strings, keyboards, and loops. It is here on Rêver mieux, however, that he takes his surest, most confident step with the production, and the album benefits greatly from it. It is clear that he takes great pains to ensure that each album bears a strong, unified, and unique sound, that each be clearly differentiated from the previous in terms of production. On this album he has done this by shifting radically from a band-oriented approach to a more low-key, electronic sound. The songs here, while retaining for the most part their base in his acoustic guitar, are fleshed out using beats, loops, and electronic textures, that constitute a firm step into the present, and make this by far his hippest album to date. The production is light and evocative, with ambient and trip-hop influences, going as far as including a full-on chill-house styled instrumental (a rare inclusion from a singer-songwriter), "Fugue en sol inconnu". Bélanger has an incredible sense of melody, is a phenomenal (and remarkably versatile) singer, and has a strong, immediately recognizable voice as a songwriter, both lyrically and melodically; it is thanks to this that he is able to explore these various and widely differing production approaches album to album while remaining unquestionably and recognizably himself. Another central element to the arrangements on this album is the shades of Burt Bacharach that are regularly evoked through effective, slightly campy use of trombone-based horn arrangements. All of this, then, makes for a rich, and very contemporary, palette with which to couch the songs; never intrusive, always allowing pride of place to the voice and the lyrics, but an engaging, and worthy, environment for his poetics. There is one exception, unfortunately - the ballad "Dis tout sans rien dire", a strong piece which is sunk by its somewhat tepid accompaniment, a straight piano-thumper more characteristic of saccharine love-songs than someone like Bélanger. But again, the song is too easily dismissed as a result; one automatically assumes the lyrics to be the traditional love ballad one would expect with such a setting, and indeed this would be an utterly forgettable piece were that the case. However, we should know better, considering whom we're dealing with: on closer inspection, the lyrics are a bleak, anguished cry, torn apart with the impossibility of communication, of any hope of succour in a profound solitude which is revealed through the song to be increasingly unhinged and unstable, sung to some unnamed figure - brother, sister, lover, stranger, or, maybe even more likely, directly to the listener - who is barely perceptible or identifiable from the misty depths from which the singer is unable to reach out. The shock of the distance, of the seeming incongruity, between the despair of the lyrics and the dead-straight ballad accompaniment, is rather disconcerting; and while one might still have preferred a more interesting setting for the song, it is largely redeemed as a result. Which draws us into some discussion of the lyrics. Bélanger (or so the legend has it) is an insomniac, who writes many of his songs at night, in the strange, slightly surreal mental space in which he then finds himself. His songs are suffused with this sensibility: there is a certain amount of anguish, of despair, sometimes with a light, nostalgic touch, sometimes bordering on the suicidal; but most of all, there is a feeling of complete solitude, of being utterly alone in the world, untouched, untouchable, torn apart by the need for contact, for intimacy, for understanding, but faced with the utter impossibility of ever achieving these. Typical is this sentiment from the song "Dans un spoutnik": "Six milliards/ Six milliards de solitudes/ De seuls ensemble" ("Six billion/ Six billion solitudes/ Alone together"). Like I said, there is still a broad range here: some songs are deliberately and outrightly funny (though they are perhaps not the most convincing of his songs), but they retain a certain melancholic sense of solitude, at best delayed for a time. Others offer no relief, and are direct and honest in their desolation - although Rêver mieux is free of the sort of despair of the closing track of his last album, which presented an open contemplation of suicide, which is finally put off, but without conviction. Bélanger's greatest gift - and it is remarkable indeed - is the fine line he is able to walk between clarity and abstraction. His lyrics are rich with images and assertions which are thought-provoking and profound, but these are balanced by an ability to appeal, with great precision and very concisely, directly to the listener, delivering the singer's plea in painfully beautiful, but by no means uncertain, terms. It is this balance that makes his songs as deeply affecting as they are: he is able to maintain a very personal, very immediate and direct voice in addressing the listener, without sacrificing any of the overpowering depth of his message. This is an all-too-rare virtue, for it is much easier to convey depth in vague, suggestively poetic terms, than as personally, as directly, as Bélanger often does; one runs the risk of sounding merely trite, a pitfall Bélanger clears with deceptive ease. It is this directness which makes his songs as personal, as effective, and as terribly affecting as they are. This ability also accounts for his remarkably wide appeal. Many of his songs are quite accessible given a perfunctory listen, but reveal a breathtaking, melancholic depth to those interested in delving deeper. He is the sort of singer whose songs you may hear again and again, whistle on your way to work, sing in the shower, before one day suddenly clueing in to a couple of lines midway through that had previously escaped notice, and which stop you in your tracks, like a sudden blow, and entirely change the nature of the song. There are some fine examples of this effect on Rêver mieux; for example, the opening track, "Te quitter", which appears at first to be a rather sad, not quite bitter, love song, in which a couple continue together more out of dependence and fear than love - which makes for a powerful enough song as it is; but, tucked away near the end of the song we find the following lines: "Le temps qui nous suit se chargera/ De faucher nos vies sans trop d'embarras/ Regarde ça sera lui qui viendra nous désinventer" ("The times that follow us will take it upon themselves/ To swipe our lives without much trouble/ Look, it will be he who will come to disinvent us.") A beautiful song, somewhat sad, but not terribly demanding, until one comes up against this rather more disturbing sentiment. Or "Tu tombes", a beautiful, nostalgic pop song, with a captivating melody, but with some somewhat darker lyrics - "Cesse un peu de jeter de l'ombre sur le jour/ Avril est mort, les neiges fondent, c'est le cours/ Du printemps dans ce qu'il a de triste/ Et tu en rajoutes un peu plus sur la liste" ("Stop for a moment casting your shadow against the day/ April is dead, the snows melt, it's the course of/ Spring, in all it has of sadness/ And you add a little more to the list"). The song also, however, contains some strange imagery of doctors running in the streets, which lends a even more sombre sense to the chorus: "Essaye de comprendre/ C'est fort, plus fort que moi/ Je tombe" ("Try to understand/ It's strong, stronger than I am/ I fall") - maybe the album is not as free of references to suicide as I previously suggested. A number of the songs here stand out as particularly memorable. The previously mentioned "Te quitter" is certainly one, as is the glorious "Tu tombes". Another is "Chante encore", a smooth, slow, r&b -tinged song (which cries out for plentiful radio airplay), another anguished pop masterpiece, with such lines as "Les jours passent et se ressemblent et se confondent les uns aux autres/...Ma vie, une course folle et aveugle, sans même l'écho/ Du coup de départ" ("The days pass, and ressemble one another, and are confounded... My life, a mad, blind race, without so much as the echo/ Of the starter's pistol"). "Dans un Spoutnik", one of the more electronic-flavoured songs, paints a picture of solitude, and of longing for a sense of connection and communion, couched in the light and amusing image of the singer tucked inside a satellite, making for a light, yet painfully melancholic, almost nostalgic, piece. "Intouchable et immortel", clocking in at a full eight minutes, contains a long, meandering instrumental excursion, of flute solos and ethereal effects over a steady, house-flavoured beat, bookended by another melancholic/nostalgic piece praising long, solitary wanderings by bicycle, which would be treading dangerously close to being merely cute if it were not so accurate in its imagery. The title track, again deceptively lovely, masks particularly bitter lyrics, directed possibly towards the media and the press, but maybe instead (and, if so, much more distressingly) towards a friend or a lover, berating the addressee's constant and invasive inquiries, which the singer resolutely resists. Finally, there is the Bacharach-style pop swing of "Comme des amants", whose light charm again hides painfully honest lyrics, ruminating that if it's possible to leave without suffering, without lies, the couple should part "as real lovers do" - making ample use of the conditional to underlie the artifice, the play-acting or 'make-believe' quality of the relation, that to some extent is in answer to the fear and immobility of the album's opener, "Te quitter". The song builds to a dramatic coda, which acts more or less as the climax of the album, leaving the closing track "Revivre" as a more thoughtful denouement, that recommends a sort of death of the self - desolate and alone - in order to be reborn stronger: "Que peut-il se produire de pire que rien?" ("What worse could happen than nothing?") - another somewhat discomfiting consideration of death. On the whole, Rêver mieux is a superb and powerful album; the production is terrific, the performances strong, and the lyrics deeply moving. I am delighted to see that Bélanger has chosen to move in this direction; the more electronic, beat-oriented production, steered away from a band environment, is well suited to the intensely personal nature of his songs, allowing him to be even more direct, as well as granting him greater control over the shape of his music, and helping make this his strongest album to date. I hope he will continue in this vein; in fact, his songs are strong enough, his voice undeniable enough, that they would hold up under an even more experimental approach, and may in fact benefit from musical forays further afield, to help underline the remarkable depths of his message. So pick this album up, and should you sometime find yourself awake at night, unable to sleep, and alone, put on Rêver mieux; you will find it a beautiful, painful, and deeply transformative experience.
Daniel Bélanger: Rêver mieux. Audi Records, 2002.
Review by James Andean, Bad MonkeyX. 5th issue, March 2002.