A second album for Charlotte Rampling, 20 years later like a woman, what a funny idea ! Selling idea, you can imagine: this voice! This muffled timbre, this quickdraw of flow, this game so little played that you get caught in it with your feet, your body, your head. Ah! Find the Charlotte of our lives, the Rampling of Georgy Girlof Night porterof Stardust Memories until Dunes of our Denis Villeneuve! How not to be seduced in advance, so to speak. The problem is there: telegraphed, this project. Too good a promise, not kept. Léonard Lasry is not Étienne Daho. Do not carry a delicious disdain that wants. Daho had the stature that Jeanne Moreau demanded. Lasky, the composer, only manages to “gain” for all it takes a shoddy melancholy, without the art of variation, so that it’s all in the same tone. Elisa Point’s texts, nicely turned, barely rescue the fortune teller placed on a Récamier imitation loveseat. Factitious fascination, leaded paving. To be honest, we say no.
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