Labyrinthes

Five years ago, Malajube would probably not have been given the time of day by even the underground media outside their hometown of Quebec. Who knows, they might even have succumbed to pressure to appeal to the Anglophonic masses by deviating from singing solely in their native French. Something about this album – the band’s third - says they wouldn’t have - perhaps it’s the unyielding confidence so apparent in its tone - but who knows. Either way, Malajube are reaping the benefits of two significant movements that music has experienced in the past half decade. The first is the all-powerful realm of downloading, making music that would typically have been confined to a local market (due, in part, to the restricted vision of now unnecessary major labels) available globally and thus more accessible to a much wider market. But you know this already. The second movement, perhaps as a knock on effect of the first, is the wave of Canadian indie-rock that came crashing mercilessly onto the shores of the English-speaking world. Led into the mainstream by Arcade Fire’s debut, ‘Funeral’, the rest of the free-thinking world are now wondering what the hell those damn Québécois are putting in the water. Where Malajube differ from the likes of Arcade Fire, Of Montreal, Wolf Parade and Broken Social Scene however, is that they are the only Francophone band to have broken through to the Anglophone mainstream with an album that is sang entirely in French. To be able to convey the multitude of strong emotions that exude from Labyrinthes through the barrier of a common language is no mean feat but, amazingly, to comprehend them is effortless.

The album kicks off with the lilting piano keys of ‘Ursuline’, which takes tentative baby steps before blindsiding you with instrumentation that pulverises the delicate cadence with violent drums and full-throttle guitars which then level to a steady, confident constant. ‘Ursuline’s’ six-and-a-half minutes makes for something of an epic introduction to an album with an intensity that doesn’t let up throughout its entirety. There are some quieter moments, for instance on the shimmering jingle-jangle of ‘Dragon De Glace’ but the overriding forcefulness of the tempo and rhythm is ever-present.

One thing that presents itself immediately is the competence of the musicians at work. With all of the meandering twists and turns that “indie music” has been taking of late with complicatedly layered synths and obscure noise-makers, it’s refreshing to listen to a band that are still fairly cut-and-dry in their instrumentation choices. If Malajube weren’t as confident and accomplished as they seem to be, Labyrinthes could easily have turned into another bland indie-rock offering, regardless of its chosen language. Thankfully, Julien and Francis Mineau, Mathieu Cournoyer and Thomas Augustin are masters of their craft who know where their strengths lie. Labyrinthes is considerately arranged and skilfully executed with melodic vocals that stop it from becoming too harsh. It may also encourage you to learn French.