The musical rollercoaster of Angèle’s Nonante-Cinq.
The name “Angèle” likely sounds unfamiliar to the American pop consumer. Angèle’s relative anonymity makes sense: as a Belgian singer-songwriter who releases music almost solely in French, she’s accessible to a fairly specific audience. While she has gained some popularity in America with her featured vocals on Dua Lipa’s tropical deep house song “Fever,” she is mostly unknown internationally.
The first time I listened to Angèle’s breakout song, “Balance ton quoi” (transl. “Denounce your what”), I was awestruck. While the song’s lyrics tackle sexism, feminism, and the #MeToo movement, the music itself is breezy and playful, featuring buoyant synths, a catchy beat, and laid-back vocals.
Upon a further dive into Angèle's discography, it became clear that every one of her songs is a juggling act that blends the melancholy with the delightful. Her lyrics are often nostalgic, wistful, and bittersweet, but her melodies and instrumentations are effervescent, lively, and danceable. To the international listener, French lyrics seem to pose a problem. You may be thinking, “I don’t speak French… I’ll never grasp the full experience of an Angèle song!” Certainly, this language barrier is a valid concern—after all, lyrics are an indispensable part of most pop songs. Angèle’s lyrics are sophisticated and integral to her music. But never fear! The true magic of Angèle’s music is that you don’t necessarily need to understand French to enjoy it; each song is still infectious and emotional without full comprehension of its poignant lyrics—take it from someone with minimal French skills.
After two months of exhaustively listening to her first studio album, Brol, and its extended version, Brol la Suite, on repeat, I moved onto Angèle’s 2021 album, Nonante-Cinq (transl. Ninety-Five). The album is about the tragedy of love and heartbreak, and yet it is comprised of what Angèle does best: playful takes on Eurodance and French house music. Nonante-Cinq’s cover art features Angèle on a rollercoaster, and the album most definitely makes the listener feel as if they’re on one, too—a musical one and an emotional one.
Nonante-Cinq opens with “Bruxelles je t’aime” (“Brussels, I love you”), a spunky love letter to Angèle’s hometown. The lyrics of the song touch on homesickness and the rising political tensions in Belgium, but the music itself is light and poppy. The next three songs add to the fun, catchy ambience of the album. “Libre” (“Free”), is an anthem of personal independence set to a Tame Impala-esque bass line, complete with funky synths and disco beats. The album’s content veers onto a slightly new course with “Solo”, Angèle’s declaration that she will never love again. But in true Angèle fashion, these sentiments are complemented by bubbly instrumentation and whimsical vocals. “Pensées positives” (“Positive thoughts”) sticks with the heavy-hearted lyrics, but differentiates itself from other tracks, using staccato elements to create a more minimal sound. The song’s lyrics center on mental health in the digital age, and the music reflects this subject with electronically manipulated backing vocals and video-game-like instrumentation.
It is with “Taxi” that Angèle completely diverges from her typical sound, trading in upbeat basses, beats, and synths for a lone piano, playing deep, minor chords beneath a higher, mournful noodling. She repeats, “Qu'est-ce que tu m'as fait?” (“What have you done to me?”), launching the listener further into the spiral of heartbreak. It is the first track on the album that truly sounds like a sad song. As soon as it’s over, Angèle snaps back to her old sound, but this time with a bit of a darker tone. “Démons” is built around an organ-like synth that plays a jarring chord alternation in the dissonant minor second interval of D# minor and E minor. The song also features Damso, a Belgian-Congolese rapper, whose deep, raspy vocals stand in stark contrast to Angèle’s higher, clearer tone. The organ in “Démons” remains a central motif throughout many of the subsequent songs on the album.
Angèle continues on her throughline to darker music with “Plus de sens” (“More sense”), which has an underlying chord motif that sounds like a slightly more upbeat version of Yeah Yeah Yeahs’ 2009 hit “Heads Will Roll.” Angèle searches for meaning and sense after lost love, but ends the track with eerie, echoing vocalization rather than any semblance of closure.
Unfortunately, there are a few songs on Nonante-Cinq that feel fairly forgettable. I wouldn’t be able to hum the melody of “On s’habitue” (“We get used to it”), “Tempête” (“Storm”) or “Profite” (“Take Advantage”) if my life depended on it. While the songs mirror the emotional sentiments and musical elements inherent to Angèle’s music, they fail to stand out in comparison to the other, more unique pieces on the album. It isn’t the fault of the songs themselves, rather, it’s the impressive nature of their counterparts that makes this trio so nameless. Nonante-Cinq comes to a stronger close with “Mots justes” and “Mauvais rêves” (“Bad dreams”). Both songs harken back to “Taxi,” but have a jazzier feel, leaning away from pure sadness and toward more ambiguous emotion. While these songs are unsuspectingly mellow, they call attention to the message at the heart of the album, which is that love can be painful, but it can also be beautiful.
The final song on the album is a live orchestral version of “Démons” that combines melodramatic swells with plucky strings, operating at the confluence of tragedy and hope that Angèle seems to love so much. This new version of “Démons” leaves the listener with an optimistic ending. It’s easier to believe Angèle’s insistence that “j’évolve” (“I’m evolving”) when you hear the progression of the entire album: from gleefully concealing heartbreak, to spiraling into sadness, to becoming angry, to finding some sort of bittersweet resolution. Ultimately, Nonante-Cinq is a remarkable rollercoaster of music, in which Angèle fuses familiar with unfamiliar, acoustic with electronic, European house with American indie pop, joy with sorrow, love with loss, and awful with awesome.
edited by Maria Kravtsova, Social Media Director.
artwork by Laura Sams.
album artwork believed to belong to either the publisher of the work or the artist.
