Cosmophono by Lo'Jo

This French collective have been with us now for more than a quarter of a century, but although they have an absolutely identifiable sound, each of their albums has had its own unique character. For example 2006’s Bazar Savant, saw them going for a crisper, more dance orientated feel.

Released last week, ‘Cosmophono’ is, if anything, a return to the mood of earlier works. Electronic and natural percussion sounds stutter, threatening to stall, but somehow move forward, organs wheeze as if not long for this world, a muted trumpet keens like a distant car horn, and various other exotic musical instruments have their moment before disappearing like spirits in the night. But it’s the world-weary Denis Péan who, as ever, brings everything into focus by virtually talking his way through each song, leaving the two Algerian sisters, Yamina and Nadia to emphasise the melody with their full, warm counter (rather than backing) vocals.

But the arrangements are starker and more finely etched here than on some of the grander, richly layered works they’ve produced in the past, and the mood is more introspective. But if that doesn’t sound terribly inviting, fear not. The usual preoccupation with idiosyncratic instrumental textures is to the fore, and there are plenty of the quirkily dysfunctional chansons which Lo’Jo do so well. This is a group of musicians who have truly created their own sonic world (or should that be cosmos, given the album’s title) and this is another fine, dusty jewel in their splendid necklace of recorded works.