Tonaaaaaaaaaaaaiiiiiiiiiight…
[Video][Website]
[5.55]
Jonathan Bogart: It’s apparently from a new soundtrack to a newly hand-colorized version of George Méliès’ Journey to the Moon, and it sounds like it: atmospheric, baroque round the edges, self-consciously retro. But the galloping drums are a reminder of the fantastic amounts of energy needed just to float in space, burning off fuel at rates measured in heartbeats.
[7]
Michaela Drapes: Cinema is my first love, even over music and I have a very sentimental attachment to Méliès’ Le Voyage Dans La Lune (I mean, I go out of my way to walk past this NYC landmark as often as I can.) And, naturally, I also can’t help but think of the Smashing Pumpkins’ riff on the same material, which one can hear occasional tiny echoes of here (the smoothly dry and even rhythm bits, easily). It also makes sense to have a guest vocal by Legrand, given her familial connection to one of the greatest soundtrack composers of our time; Air certainly aspires to those lofty heights here, too. This odd mélange of references, which could have crumbled in lesser hands, is certainly potent and successful. Though I’d like to think that I’m too sophisticated to have my head turned by such blatantly tasteful and baroque pop, I’m secretly happy to know that’s not actually true.
[8]
Katherine St Asaph: Dissolve nostalgia in this Air and let it filter away from France, and it’ll become chillwave. Little wonder these guys reunited now, when floatiness is next to godliness and Beach House singer already decorates her voice like Lisa Papineau. But this go-round will probably be exactly as substantial as the first few.
[6]
Iain Mew: Very much in the same territory as Goldfrapp’s floatiness (and hey, they were flying to the moon as well!). Air sacrifice total weightlessness for a single more defined and uplifting take off sequence, but the twinkling keyboard squelches are magic and I could sink into Victoria’s sumptuous voice all day.
[8]
Anthony Easton: Gossamer-thin and fairly insubstantial but extremely well made. The spoken sample (especially with the space theme) seems to be a 90s xerox of 60s nostalgia, which you know, seems to be a questioning of diminishing returns.
[6]
Brad Shoup: A ponderous psychedelic exercise in finicky sonic layering. Maybe it’s stirring with film accompaniment, I dunno, but by itself it sounds like one-fourth of a suite I don’t have the urge to finish.
[4]
Alfred Soto: These French pastries boasted tasty fillings in 1998 and 2004; the rest is crusty nothings. The singing is best described as indolent. The Pepe Le Pew sleazo doing the countdown is the only louche touch in a track that’s rather too proud of its attenuation.
[3]
Andy Hutchins: Those drums and the bass deserve to be attached to something with a more ambitious destiny than aimless MMU usage, and space launches sound better and are more dramatic in musicians’ studios than in person. At some point, the thing goes up, and THAT is what is really cool.
[5]
Alex Ostroff: This would work as a soundtrack for impressive visuals, but on its own it doesn’t really do enough. The ominous tone that dominates from the outset begins to make more sense as the countdown for a rocket launch is intoned, but there’s not enough energy in the blast-off to escape earth’s gravity.
[5]
Matt Cibula: Trop de foreplay pour moi, trop de pistolets a accroché sur le mur et n’a jamais mis le feu. Probablement bon pour des bandes sonores mais en tant que simple je ne m’amuse pas.
[4]
John Seroff: My first thought was “Oh, right! Air!” followed shortly by “Oh. Right. Air.” This isn’t the playful air of “Sexy Boy“ or the 10cc rip-off of “How Does It Make You Feel“ or even the Euro-cool Air of “La Femme D’Argent“; it’s the noodly Air of The Virgin Suicides, the Air forever in search of a musical or a Cirque to affix not even a concept but a breathy theme. “Seven Stars“ is inoffensive, but only by dint of being barely there.
[5]