The Franco-American-Algerian musician opens up and bares her soul, weaving together R&B, exotic detours, and French chanson.
“Oh ! qui fera surgir soudain, qui fera naître/Là-bas, tandis que seul je rêve à la fenêtre/Et que l’ombre s’amasse au fond du corridor/Quelque ville mauresque, éclatante, inouïe/Qui, comme la fusée en gerbe épanouie/Déchire ce brouillard avec ses flèches d’or !” These verses by Victor Hugo, taken from his poem Rêverie, had already announced Lolo Zouaï’s eponymous album.
Opening with the track 100, which revisits the famous line “I don’t need anyone in a Harley Davidson” by BB, this record is arguably the bilingual and most intimate release of the artist to date. With a team that is itself Franco-American (Joey Wunsch & Al Von Staats, LucasV), Lolo Zouaï has given free rein to her desire to “mix things we’ve never heard together: French chanson à la Edith Piaf with New York drill, or writing in the style of Serge Gainsbourg over West Coast rap production.”
Dinos, Disiz et Lous & the Yakuza en invité·es
“I’m seeking contrast rather than ease. Because that’s where things become interesting.” Not forgetting to rekindle her Algerian roots, especially on the sumptuous Desert Rose pt. 2, and cultivating her familiar R&B garden, from ballads (Angel, Give Them Hell; Hiver, j’espère; 3AM in San Francisco, a nod to the city where she grew up) to the more energetic: Drive, crafted with the American songwriting and beatmaking duo Take A Daytrip, or Les Mots, shared with Dinos.
She is one of three guests on the album, alongside Disiz on the romantic showdown of Coquelicot and Lous & the Yakuza on the sharp beats of Lemon Squeeze. Both remind us that being a female artist does not mean bowing to the games of appearances: those of a patriarchal context as well as a music industry that Zouaï refuses to cede too much power to—evidenced by her emancipated and audacious Baggy Jeans.
Moreover, this project also serves to pay homage to a best friend who passed away too soon, a presence Zouaï exorcises with the ghostly, poignant Tu me manques. Between stripped-back rhythm and vocal effects, the record also opens up to a tropical escape with Toute seule à la plage and closes with a mid-song-to-pop-hybrid finale on Si j’avais des ailes. Reverie, then. But with eyes (and ears) wide open.
Reverie (Because). Out on April 24.
