The new album by the French ’60s fetishists Air is a departure from their last four (five, if you count their Italian spoken word project) albums. It’s such a departure that it comes right back around to the same airport, hangs around for a bit, and makes small talk with the girl at the duty free counter about perfume. It’s just kind of boring. This time around, Air makes music that wouldn’t be out of place in an airport coffee bar.
Which isn’t to say that it’s not good. Air knows how to craft a song, but all but two of these tracks lack any discernible hook, or rather just keep repeating the same (good!) hook over and over until the (now bad!) hook is tired. This reminds me somewhat of Daft Punk’s “Human After All” album, where they too were accused of not putting hardly any effort into it before touring with it and thus transforming the lackluster album into a live spectacle. Maybe that’s what Air will do, too, because right now all this sounds like is spy music for people that don’t want to get their hair wet, or make-out music for the interior design office party.
Hell, Air are probably banging French models all day long to really care too much about how this album sounds. And that’s what it sounds like. It sounds like they brought 19-year-old models back to their apartment and played them this to get them into bed. It will probably work for you, too, but if you’re looking for … how do you say in eengleesh… “depth”? Then this won’t be for you.