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Clément Jacques – India

Review

Clément Jacques

India

Genre
CD
Label
Music Mansion Records
Datum
02.02.2016
Autor
King Kraut
8 /10
Mr. Jacques sat in his cabin and looked at his mixing console. He had been hiking for days, nearly eaten by a bear, and his guitar had fallen into a ravine. But he had made it. In the middle of nowhere, surrounded only by trees, he would be able to reflect entirely on himself. He would be able to listen to the sounds within him, undisturbed by the madness of people, the cities, the advertising jingles on YouTube. An epic was slumbering within him; he had already felt it quietly, that Wagner would put him in his place. Everything was ready, the microphones adjusted, three years of musicology studies embedded in Mr. Jacques' vegetative nervous system as surely as breathing.

If... yes, if that American hadn't knocked on the door. "Indians," some called the indigenous people, as proof that their thinking was 500 years behind. Indians! To good neighborliness, the man had said. He was the medicine man here, for the people and animals, and had lit a pipe adorned with intricate carvings. Well, I don't want to offend a local, thought Mr. Jacques. And he took a deep drag from the offered calumet.

This is certainly not how it went down, dear readers. Only the situation with the session far from any civilization is described in the booklet. The rest grew under my scalp as I listened to the album "India." Admittedly, I was skeptical at first because Clément Jacques was briefly mentioned by the promo agency on the same flyer as MIRACLES as their opening act. However, this is absolutely independent Francophone rock somewhere between the BEATLES and NIRVANA. Sounds unlikely? From the former, the psychedelic elements and the melodic-phlegmatic vocals, from the latter, the love for the simple raw sound of a strummed guitar. From both, the love for radiant, vivid lyrics. Yes, it is truly beautiful what the man has composed and recorded here all by himself. When the chorus of "Manège" kicks in like the carousel at the fair. When "le chat," the cat, drags us into a scratched guitar solo. And such a poetic, simple love song like "dauphins," just voice and the out-of-tune guitar – I believe that would suit John Allen well too.

Then there's the ethnic touch. Twice, the Indian gets to dispense Indian wisdom, parables from nature, and how we should ideally treat the latter. The concept of eco-hippie romance is nothing groundbreaking, and I could do without it. However, it doesn't bother me further, so that's fine. By the way, I don't understand what the man is talking about. On top of the really strong accent, there's a slight distortion. Whatever. Clément Jacques had a beautiful introspection in the underbrush, and the songs that Brother Hare, Brother Fox, and Brother Sasquatch sang to him are definitely worth spinning more intensively.
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