Digitalism
Mirage

Mirage not quite in intentions, we might say. Digitalism really gave it their all in their third, gigantic album, a whopping 15 tracks for a total of almost 80 minutes (!), sizes fit for a collection, double or triple album, epic anthologies. Ironically, the concept of the album seems to be just that, a compendium of the universe of the German duo, a collection of unreleased tracks capable of best expressing the group's nature. A nature clearly indebted to the French electro sound forged by Daft Punk and their offspring. But Mirage also throws other ingredients onto the track, I'd say very close to the indie circuit: dirty sound, a certain expressive freedom foreign to commercial logic. This is the case with the wonderful Shangri-La, already heard in the FIFA 17 soundtrack and fortunately present in all its splendor here as well.

The problem is that Mirage is basically a somewhat tiresome album that cannot quite sustain its excessive ambitions; 80 minutes is a lot, folks, and this comes from someone who is certainly not a professional musician but who produces something for pure personal pleasure in his little way. It takes a lot of ideas and above all the ability to produce pieces capable of justifying the length. In short, the temptation of filler becomes all the stronger the more space there is to fill. This does not mean the album is bad, mind you; it is a very well-produced work, but the pop-retrofuturist brilliance of Shangri-La remains an isolated episode in an album that is frankly never-ending. Vaguely synth-pop numbers alternate with fairly sustained dancefloor stompers that are dangerously thin on content. The result is an extremely moody album: from the instrumental opener Arena, of blatant Daft Punk influence (revisited in the concluding Blink), to the pop-indie Battlecry, very catchy and characterized by a refrain as sly as needed. Go Time ventures into Phoenix territory (still in France, unsurprisingly), coming and going without leaving much behind, while in the risky Operation Breakdown, they play the card of endurance, with its mighty 8 minutes and a sufficiently dynamic structure to keep attention alive until the end. Sung in an Empire of the Sun style, with an eighties atmosphere beloved by the indie circuit, featuring heavily processed electric guitar riffs that compose a complex fresco in the instrumental second part. Not too exciting an episode, but essentially successful. Power Station, Open Waters, Dynamo, and No Cash explore the realms of house and techno. Not to mention the daunting title track, offered in two parts, which proposes itself as a manifesto of Digitalism's experimental ambitions. 12 minutes of electronic prog that tries to reconcile Alan Parsons Project and Jean Michel Jarre in a new and personal context. Whirling synths crescendo into increasingly complex mosaics toward the sky. The second part even references John Carpenter's soundtracks, giving it an almost cinematic stamp. The whole thing feels slightly pretentious, totally detached from the rest, and probably not really necessary, but the craftsmanship is there and undeniable. The Ism even ventures into hip hop, yet always stylistically compatible with the good Christo and Bangalter. None of this measures up to the ideas, personality, and beauty of Shangri-La, which when it arrives, really feels like a refreshing oasis; after all, there must be a reason why it was the track chosen by the very talented scouts at Electronic Arts.

An album that deserves a passing grade, if only for the considerable effort, but the results are inconsistent. The flashes are limited to a few episodes (with Shangri-La standing out fiercely), it does not always flow smoothly, and the listener is forced into avoidable efforts. Apparently, the prowess is not there yet to produce such a long album without relying on fillers or very, too derivative solutions (too similar to Daft Punk at times). Perhaps give it a listen, but without too many expectations; it might work.