Probably the most wistful music you'll hear this year is on this debut album by Casino Versus Japan, which takes us back to the good old days when electronica wasn't afraid to be beautiful. Tracks like "The Possible Light" and "Summer Clip" have the same kind of warped grandiloquence as the Aphex Twin and Global Communications a decade ago: delicate melodic flakes magnified through a cosmic amplifier. On tracks like "Moonlupe", Vangelis is even brought to mind—and there's nothing illegal about that.
He helped Audrey Tautou steal your heart in Amélie, and Tiersen, like that film, evokes the passing of French iconographies (Pernod, madeleines, poujadisme) and the culture's quiet assimilation of change, with or without accordions. The slyly sentimental, Nyman-leaning postmodernism of "A Quai" and "Bagatelle" absorbs genres from Rai to post-rock but remains uniquely French. Zazou and Eno, watch your arses.
Sandwiched, chronologically, in between Jules Et Jim (1962) and Fahrenheit 451 (1964), La Peau Douce (The Soft Skin) is an intriguing anomaly in the François Truffaut canon. A neo-Hitchcockian tale of infidelity, it methodically observes the extra-marital deceptions of apathetic intellectual Pierre (Jean Desailly) before rashly culminating in a bizarre shotgun shootout courtesy of Pierre's hysterical wife. For Truffaut completists.
Playing while standing on a runway with planes roaring overhead in "Beautiful Day", introducing the Flys V Lemons Championships in "Stuck In A Moment...", and playing with cartoons and Batman footage in "Hold Me, Thrill Me, Kiss Me, Kill Me", U2 are as entertaining as they are enormous and serious. More intriguing, though, are the visits paid behind the scenes as U2 play Sarajevo, bribe Larry with a mermaid and film three videos for "One".
