Tellier, Sebastien : L'Incroyable Vérité

There's no beats, very little bass and it's the brainchild of a long-haired Nietzschean. In theory, it's everything disco should destroy. In practice, it might just be the new sound of Paris. Which is the sort of fucked logic that works in Sebastian Tellier's world.


The first signing to Air's Record Makers label, 'L'Incroyable Vérité' is only nominally connected to anything that duo have ever done. While they do share a taste for contemplative psychedelia, Sebastian Tellier plays disjointed head games with these retrograde grooves (the agreeable 'Face Au Miroir' ends with blood-curdling screaming) where his paymasters build layers of tasteful slickness.


Reference points are so fluid that pinning down Tellier is as exasperating as nailing jelly to a wall. So abandon pigeonholes and sink into rich Broadcast synths, kazoo-heavy jazz and a trilogy of numbers about dogs. Naturally. It's wonderful to hear someone skip past musical fashionistas so joyfully. You'd think filling Neil Young full of downers and recording his vocals underwater is no recipe for sonic manna, but the funereal slowcore of 'Universe' proves you wrong.


This probably won't strike big with the legions who lapped up 'Moon Safari', but Sebastian
Tellier won't care. And neither should you.


Noel Gardner