This is Belgian chanteuse, Melanie De Biasio’s second album, and it’s an absolute scorcher.
She approaches her music with an abstract brush, sketching ideas and leaving much whiteness, her fellow musicians coming across as consummate team players, allowing the performances to breathe deeply, shallowly, and with a touch of emphysema.
The sounds explore the underside of melancholy - a thrilling blend of smouldering insight and wonder evoked by clusters of bunched piano voicings, shimmering swirls of cymbal and Di Biasio’s own gossamer vocal and flute lines.
The sound of cigarette butts crushing on wet cobblestone, of sultry gazes through the night’s shadows, of the intertwined extremes of possibility and regret.
The notes played and sung are so select, so beautifully restrained, they fill the room with the spaces in between, like sentences that reveal more by what is left unsaid.
This is a magical, quirky, mysterious album of unusual elegance.
The kind of music that has the power to hypnotise and draw you into its charms completely.
It inhabits a dangerously attractive universe where less is more and once you’re in its graceful hold, you won’t want to leave.
Musician, actor, singer, music reviewer, Phil’s interests cover a lot of bases and this is reflected in the music he writes about. From blues to soul, ambient to electronic, Phil writes about artists he feels are interesting, true to their craft and worthy of your ears.