French quintet Lazuli have long mastered the art of turning emotion into musical art, sculpting their sound to reflect their own unique poetic universe. On this their 12th studio album Et Ne Plus Être they refine that gift into something even more luminous. From the opening moments of the title track, the swirling textures and flowing arpeggios of Romain Thorel weave a hypnotic spell. The chorus—powered by Claude Leonetti's unmistakable, entrancing Léode—blossoms into something huge and enveloping, with subtle guitar motifs and elegant piano lines shining bright at the edges. Chaque Jour Que Soleil Fait is a love song that genuinely radiates sunshine. Domi Leonetti's emotional delivery sits atop a beautifully paced rhythm, the French horn adding warmth before the whole piece erupts into a glorious Léode ‑driven instrumental surge. A breezy lightness blows through Sourire, a charming ukulele‑led ditty where Domi sings and plays into an almost quirky Queen‑like idiom while Arnaud Beyney threads in some lovely guitar lines. The mood darkens for Matière Première, a solemn chant built on Vincent Barnavol's mournful marimba, Thorel's brooding French horn working with the equally moody Léode. It's a pointed reflection on exploitation—people used and discarded by the machinery of tyrants and organisations—and the arrangement carries that weight with a quiet, haunting power. One of the album's melodic treasures, L'Eau Qui Dort, begins with acoustic guitar and bass before opening into a shimmering, water‑lit soundscape. Keyboard lines ripple like light on a river, the chorus swelling into one of the most beautiful moments Lazuli have ever recorded. Voices broaden, the Léode floats along and the whole piece feels like drifting downstream in slow motion. Une Chanson Cherokee continues the acoustic thread, a delicate melody carried by piano and Léode, while Quel Dommage shifts gears entirely. Thorel's classically tinged piano leads into something darker, with strong Beatles overtones—think I Am The Walrus refracted through Lazuli's prism. Beyney's urgent, driving guitar shows just how deeply his style has shaped the band across the past two albums. L'Instant strips everything back to Domi's beautiful, searching voice and acoustic guitar, a meditation on time and fleeting moments. It's spine‑tingling in its simplicity, proof that the band's emotional impact doesn't rely on scale. L'Homme Sur moves with a slower, more deliberate speed, a song about taking life at your own pace. Another sweeping chorus rises, with echoing Léode textures and a gorgeous Beyney guitar solo adding depth and atmosphere. There's a gentle shuffle to Mon Body Se Meurt, its wailing Leode lines giving it a low‑key melancholy before the track suddenly lifts off halfway through. Les 4 Raisons brings orchestral, symphonic colours, a chorus of voices celebrating the turning of the seasons—sublime, radiant, and deeply moving. The album closes with the epic Au Bord Du Précipice. Thorel's delicious arpeggios and distant Léode create a dramatic, storm‑brewing tension. Chords build, atmospheres develop, and halfway through, everything falls away to leave just Domi's voice and piano. Then Barnavol pushes the tempo forward, the Léode cutting through before the guitar joins the ascent. It's a magnificent, moving finale. Beautiful and captivating to the last breath, Lazuli once again prove their uncanny ability to capture your heart and send your senses spinning. ***** Alison Reijman Where to buy? |
