Melody’s Echo Chamber, “Emotional Eternal”


Melody’s Echo Chamber
Emotional Eternal

There’s a particularly special song on the new Melody‘s Echo Chamber album. “Alma”, named after Melody Prochet’s daughter, is a celebration of birth and rebirth, a jubilant momentum and a radical final movement. “I am so happy and so proud,” she beams against suspended chords and bountiful strings, temporarily letting go of her mother tongue to unequivocally share that joyous feeling, a true moment of screaming from the rooftops. Without “Alma” – and without Alma – 2018 have a nice trip would have announced not a stay but a definitive farewell, because it was during the first night away from his newborn daughter, in search of a way to soothe her anxiety and expel the emotion, that Prochet crafted the first cathartic song from his third album, Emotional Eternal.

Soon after, Prochet reunited her co-writing/co-producing duo of Fredrik Swahn and Reine Fiske, with whom she worked on have a nice trip— and headed for Stockholm. Here they experimented with the EBow guitar techniques of Sigur Rós, the long-necked lutes (or bağlama) of Ottoman classical music, the Mellotron of his Middle England muse Broadcast and the theta waves of the ubiquitous meditation music of his partner. The result is more contained than his previous album – a whirlwind of psychedelia and sharp Tropicália with incongruous Auto-Tune and Swedish screams – and more sophisticated than his fiery echo-pop debut. Clarity permeates every track on Emotional Eternal. The songs breathe. One is even titled “A Slow Dawning of Peace,” an apt summary of one person’s listening experience.

Part of EternalModesty comes from space – the space of Prochet’s previous works but also that granted to her by the natural sanctuaries in which she will console herself and thwart disillusions. “When something disenchanted happened, I took refuge near my house on the peninsula under the pines, a natural sanctuary where I sent wishes to the shore, I was soothed by its beauty”, he said. she stated. said of “Personal Message,” illustrating his peaceful relationship with the earth and his contemplative, unhurried approach to life and creation. “I need some mind space,” she sings on “Looking Backward,” a song inspired by a man at the airport using his watch to creatively reflect sunlight. It is this attention to subtlety that makes his music purgative, providing we with space, and redirect the meaning of life to simple details.

Like Lætitia Sadier of Stereolab before her, Prochet’s vocal language oscillates between French and English. The added layer of intimacy allows him to delve into more personal feelings and experimental imagery. On “Pyramids in the Clouds” – the only song sung exclusively in French – she sings of black waters, wildflowers and reappearing islands, tying in with nature but drip-feeding abstract vignettes. “The Hypnotist” invites comparison to Cassandra Jenkins with a sympathetic pep talk that roughly translates to: “Ten, nine, eight, you close your eyes, you breathe / Seven, six, you walk down the stairs in the dark / Five, you’re in the cedar forest, you’re fine. This language barrier also keeps our attention not only on the lyrics, but on how the words sound. Music can flow through us and surround us without requiring unintended lyrical analysis.

The melody is driven by improvement – nature, love, tranquility. She’s not interested in turning her sonic consolation into a business, ignoring industry release schedules, and creating mostly for herself. This approach invites us to slow down and live more deliberately, because Melody may never give us another album – we were lucky to have this one. It deserves our attention and will reward us as long as we lend it.


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