Air
Love 2

An album nobody needed.

I could just end it here, but it wouldn't do justice to the record nor touch decency as a reviewer (oh dear...). "Love 2" comes out just two years after (in my humble opinion) the underrated "Pocket Symphony". Not that it was something transcendental either, but ultimately the only transcendental works by Air are "Moon Safari" and a bit of "Virgin Suicides" ("Playground love" is eternal): otherwise great albums for relaxing with a good Champagne (always Champagne!) sprawled lazily on your favorite couch (even your mega-chair will do, I know you have one) and dozing off happily and carefree. But I digress... The album! What can be said about this latest, precious effort?

Eh...

Air, with their naïve and melancholic aura of seasoned t(r)ombeur de femmes "perpetually in love" are actually likable... Not that I find the French particularly likable, eh... Quite the opposite. But look at that! If we want to say the French are all pompous with their noses in the air, then we should say all Sicilians have a flat cap on their heads and a shotgun under their arms. Heaven forbid!

This album, it's worth noting, starts really badly, and unrepentantly, goes wrong again. I'm referring to the insipid (and for the first time also gaudy) "Do The Joy" which sounds like it's straight out of the OST of the worst spy movie by the worst director in Hollywood. An unpleasant sensation further heightened on track number four ("Be a Bee") which I won’t dwell on further: we had enough with Moby for scoring James Bond films. But some errors can be forgiven in the end, to Air. I'm not a bad person. But it's also not my fault if the rest of the album remains at unprecedented levels of flatness even by their standards. Alas, those who considered "Talkie Walkie" as the first sign of stagnation will now be able to miserably sink into the mire with ship, lifeboats, and crew...

And it’s not all that traumatic, in the end. The death of inspiration is sly, it beguiles you with sweet promises. After all, there are still the dreamy songs, the ones that make you wonder "if you don't like them, why the heck listen to Air"? We are back, to be clear, in dream-psychedelic-easy pop territory (???) with softly whispered little guitars, plush electronic synths, and clear, now hyper-effected solos. In this, Air makes a leap back nine years, to "Virgin Suicides" days (listen to "So Light In Her Football" and you'll understand) without even showing the will (a bit of effort, for heaven's sake!) to surpass themselves. And then there are the instrumental tracks, which are among the most insipid produced in eleven years of an honorable career. A good deal of "suspension of disbelief" is needed to appreciate most of them, and this saddens me a bit because personally I was always content just laying comfortably on the couch and I was good. Take the title track, for example: rhythm section dating back to the first album, bass line as old as time, the usual synths and vocoder. And it is one of the better tracks. In the worst cases, out comes an "Eat My Beat" like this. I don’t think I can find the right words for such unjustified havoc, so I humbly ask for forgiveness, I'll just say: "BUT WHY??"

Because if you can forgive Air's brazen recycling of ideas (if they know how to do this, let them do it!) you CANNOT forgive them for starting to make kitschy tracks, completely pointless... UGLY. In doing so, the two blond figures have seriously risked spoiling even that little goodness the reheated soup still has to offer, and as far as I'm concerned, they succeeded completely. Although, in the end, there is some tasty bit if you care to find it: "Tropical Disease" for instance is a little lounge gem that starts fast, slows with a delicate sax, and then gradually builds up to explode in a final solo. Or not to mention the pleasant electronic lineup of "Missing The Light Of The Day" that pops up when you least expect it. But it's only competence, nothing more. Nothing revealing a shred of passion, desire to question themselves... And damn it, you almost can't feel that proverbial romanticism anymore that permeates any (I mean any!) work by Air, and we are talking about an album called "Love 2", for crying out loud...

A flat album that ends flat, moreover: an acoustic "African Velvet" (which has nothing African in it) bids us farewell with three splendid instruments, Sax, acoustic guitar, and bass. It should be included in the manual "how to make a piece bland despite good premises".

I've spent too many words on this stuff already. We're not yet at the levels of "once upon a time there were Air" but if they continue this way, we're really close. For now, they're on probation. Let's trust them, after all, it doesn't cost anything.

ps: "Pocket Symphony" in comparison seems more and more like a masterpiece. I think just saying that would have been enough to convey the idea. Sure, I wouldn't have touched decency as a reviewer (oh dear...) but thinking about it now... Justice is not for everyone.