Charlotte Gainsbourg – IRM Charlotte Gainsbourg – IRM

Charlotte Gainsbourg - IRM

This is music for adults, listless and well-dressed. Stilted by their own success. Intellectuals in tortoise shells and turtlenecks who rely on four years of French in high school to justify keeping their library copy of À la recherche du temps perdu on display beside the Hi-Def television they only bought to pacify their parents on the dreaded anachronism called XMAS (If you knew anything you’d understand that Jesus must have been born in the summertime otherwise Mary would have never survived an unwanted pregnancy [read, rape] in a manger. XMAS as it is celebrated [gag] today is nothing more than two thousand years of mistaken patriarchy doing it’s pederast best to obscure the faith of so many indigenous people [sniff] and that’s just sad really because it means that the philosophy of a MAN named Jesus Christ, who I believe might have taught around the time of your “savior” will forever lose his simple but, admittedly, relevant [pshh] philosophy to cheap consumerism and an annual massacre of our Evergreens*) and only otherwise use to entertain documentaries and the early Criterion works of Michael Haneke**.

Maybe Family Guy…but ONLY when high and even then only ever in high quality streams from Net Flix because who could bear the thought of adding one more plastic wrap to the North Pacific Gyre and besides anything your life can do my Mac can do better*** so why bother with any other invention from that dead century.

That is to say this record is pretty. It is. Why not? Charlotte Gainsbourg is a frail thing who whispers and drolls in a way that is disinterested and almost profoundly inoffensive which may or may not be a play on her father’s renowned sexuality but if pressed I bet you could give two shits. She rests this adequacy in the culture-debasing production of Beck**** which should alert you that not only is Charlotte’s “sound” unnecessarily inconsistent (not quite as dismissive as Blur’s once single-handed reign on the fuck-albums-here’s-some-songs thin British abuse as postmodernism aesthetic but definitely fucking verging) but that she’s counting her thetans somewhere with Giovanni Ribisi wishing they had enough to escape the Coppola/Von Trier Hollywood Horrorshow racket (Isaac Hayes is there too. Greta Van Susteren, Bijou Philips, Jason Lee*****).

But IRM****** is pretty in that simple vapid way that pretty Emma Peel looking chick from class shows up at your party and just fucking buzzkills everybody.

And you don’t get laid.

So I guess it sucks, really.

*This conversation happened.

**Dear fuck, I hope these don’t actually exist. Benny’s Video is bad enough the way it is.

***Steve Jobs is a prick.

****When not getting high with my uncle, Beck used to work at Video Hut in Silver Lake. He saved me a copy of License to Drive on VHS when I was ten. I will always be grateful for this.

*****Fuck Scientology.

******I GET IT! IT’S MRI BACKWARDS BECAUSE YOU HURT YOUR HEAD! Well get on line, sister. We’re all one hemorrhage away from fame.

Track Listing:
1. Master’s Hands
2. IRM
3. Le Chat Du Café Des Artistes
4. In The End
5. Heaven Can Wait
6. Me And Jane Doe
7. Vanities
8. Time Of The Assassins
9. Trick Pony
10. Greenwich Mean Time
11. Dandelion
12. Voyage
13. La Collectionneuse

Charlotte Gainsbourg - IRM, reviewed by Charles on 2010-02-05T10:06:39+00:00 rating 1.5 out of 5



3 Responses about “Charlotte Gainsbourg – IRM”

  • bootsie says:

    I actually think she rocks.. definitely more than just pretty

  • rowe says:

    sounds like the fuckin soundtrack to “Garden State 2: The Garden-ist State”. This is safe yuppie music.

  • Charles says:

    I actually kind of dug that song she did with Air a while back. But you’re dead on Rowe. Also, I blame the Shins for so much that went wrong in one particularly intoxicated period of my illustrious career as a heterosexual. Fuck Zach Braff.