Charlotte Gainsbourg - IRM

The reason Charlotte Gainsbourg’s new LP sounds just like a Beck record is because that’s almost exactly what it is. The one-time shearer of Lucifer's barnet has his paws all over IRM (a backwards reference to the scan that detected Gainsbourg's cerebral hemorrhage in 2007).

Gone are the ethereal overtones and lilting mews of 5:55, replaced by Mr Hansen’s penchant for woozy urban blues, bulging with percussion and reverb. In some ways it’s a minor success; heavenly cuts Me and Jane Doe and La Collectionneuse find the French songstress carefully ladling her gentle purr over each polished arrangement. But below this dazzling swoosh is the painful reality of somebody craving mainstream popularity.

The shiny veneers of Heaven Can Wait and Greenwich Mean Time freeze glacially, each lacking the warm, earthy glow that Gainsbourg once emitted. Instead of rendering a canvas on which she can excel, Beck paints a disjointed portrait of a conflicted chanteuse. [Billy Hamilton]