Brisa Roché
The Chase

In the musical realm, I am hopelessly subject to love at first sight. I am fickle, capricious, and above all, reckless. It takes only 30 seconds of pre-listening for me to completely lose my mind. A sort of bipolar disorder that combines obsessive-compulsive listening with moments of uncontrolled exhilaration.

Currently, the object of my desire is named Brisa Roché. She lives in Paris but was born in California. She's produced by Blue Note, but she is decidedly Rock and unequivocally Indie… “The Chase” is her extensive debut album, recorded in 9 days at Studio Plus XXX in Paris and revisited by the talented Michael Leonhart. 19 tracks that demonstrate impeccable eclecticism, flaunting jazz backgrounds, rock roots, and a touch of cinematographic sensationalism.
Apparently, the guiding line seems to have neither head nor tail. But perhaps that's the charm. Billy Holiday comes to mind playing poker with PJ Harvey, occasionally challenging Bjork. She is, moreover, a singular and alluring creature. Slim and supple, elf-like and serene, she seems like a Lynchian character, veiled with a subtle exoticism.

Listening to her album exudes a cosmopolitan atmosphere. There are musical backdrops reminiscent of French chansonniers, a roaring 60s Californian heritage, and rough 90s Seattle. The album opens, in fact, with “Airplane”, bare and elegant like “Baby Shut Your Eyes”… sparse chords, synthetic melodies, and anesthetic lyrics. On the same wavelength follows "Warned", which timidly opens on tiptoe, then transforms into a hypnotic sixties refrain that evokes Suzi Quatro and Pleasure Seekers. “Torchlight” and “Dial Me Up” chain in where a Mod aftertaste is felt. "Billionaire" could easily be a leitmotiv of a 70s Spy-Movie: squared riffs, invasive brass, and mariachi innuendos: Calexico having coffee with Anita O’Day…
There is also an original jazz vein, the legacy of a brief stay in the Big Apple and its grids patterned clubs. The authoritative influence of "Lady Sings The Blues" is heard in "Now That It’s Long Over". That unmistakable vibrato, plaintive and intense, makes the performance so intimate and generous…clinging to the note and holding it to the heart, almost at the point of strangling it… But the lady doesn’t shy away from measuring up to the pretentious French musical heritage. “Dans Le Vert De Ses Yeux” and "Du bout des yeux" wink at Monsieur Gainsbourg. Lyrics and arrangements on par with the repertoire of the muses of his harem. "Mistery Man" is the track that made me surrender. Just a few notes were enough to unsettle my synapses and unleash an obsessive acoustic loop. A suave and carefree ballad, dressed in a retro-chic arrangement. Chosen, not by chance, as a single strategy…

An elegant, biting, and “cinematic” work, but my instant crushes last only a moment, and for a couple of days now I am on the hunt for another 30 seconds capable of revealing to me another new, sensational, and shocking listening experience… and with a tinge of nostalgia, I remember when, until a couple of years ago, I had a new CD in my hands that was enough to appease my musical cannibalism spree for at least a month…