Louis Philippe
An Unknown Spring

Approaching the works of Louis Philippe is extremely simple. Yet, from the purely eighties coolness of beginnings with "Les Disques du Crepuscule" (leading Border Boys and Arcadians) to the Shibuya hype marking his subsequent solo productions on cult labels like - among others - "él" and "Siesta", he has always been confined to a rather limited fan base. The minimalist trends of our times and an inexplicable reluctance from insiders to highlight his qualities have meant that even the illustrious collaborations that dot his more than twenty-year career have done little to increase his visibility. The latest see him as a brilliant supporter of The Clientele and the last Stuart Moxham of the reformed Young Marble Giants, and if that isn't enough to pique your interest, I inform you that Philippe Auclair, to whom J. Coe's "Circolo chiuso" is dedicated, is none other than Louis Philippe.

Simple, I said, because Louis is simply among the most gifted pop authors of his generation; a lucid, inspired, and prolific composer respecting the best cultured popular tradition (from F. Poulenc to the magnificent obsession B. Wilson, passing through the European and Brazilian new wave), technically impeccable, with a sublime voice as well as an excellent producer and arranger, his latest work confirms him as a Master at the top of the most uncompromising and sophisticated pop.
Self-produced for his "Wonder Records", "An Unknown Spring" is indeed another marvel, the reflection of a pure soul mirrored in a sequence of tracks imbued with rare lyricism that exalts, as in the previous "The Wonder Of It All", in the celebration of pure melody, a gallery of snapshots candidly snatched from our romantic imagination and perfectly framed by an artist never resigned to giving up the touch of elegance that has always distinguished him despite adopting the DIY ethic.

Nothing new, then, the ostracists and more cynical followers might object. Are you alluding to the cloying exercises of self-indulgence and theatrical emphasis, sophistic rather than sophisticated, right? Sure, AUS also lacks in this regard, but we all know it to be the stigma of those fated to be in a state of relentless grace. The important novelty compared to the past, which clearly emerges from listening to A.U.S., lies in a rising and palpable sense of disillusionment, evidently matured in recent years, which tempers the usual vocal and instrumental exuberance in intimate interpretations exposed to the stripping down of arrangements. Exemplary in this sense is the album's conclusion ("I Didn't Like The Film", "Wild Eyed And Dishevelled"), where Louis works by subtraction and gives us pop ballads of touching and unprecedented immediacy. 

Even those not familiar with Louis's cult, if interested in exploring some of the most intriguing chapters in true pop music history of the last twenty years, are warmly invited to listen to A.U.S. and, above all, to recover his entire discography. They will not be disappointed as the epic includes indispensable masterpieces (hastily labeled here and there as new wave, C86, indie pop, lounge, easy listening, chansonnier, etc., such is Louis's polyhedral uniqueness), to be discovered in a dizzying journey back in time capable of reshuffling the cards and resetting certainties.

P.S.: The original and autographed review appeared on the website Losingtoday.it; the author proposes it here to guarantee the artist greater visibility.