Tomorrow’s World is a brilliant album, full of novel and eloquent musical ideas. The brainchild of English singer Lou Hayter and multi-instrumentalist Jean-Benoît Dunckel of Air fame, this journey takes us through seasons of ambiances, with either or both of the members’ voices always present, and, more often than not, completely shrouding us, at once comforting and disquieting. The complementarity of their voices is showcased in songs such as “Pleurer et chanter”, where their juxtaposition highlights Dunckel’s signature French accent and lisp, more a charm than a blemish. Tomorrow’s World closes on its most ambitious and experimental piece, only five minutes long, yet resounding forevermore. This very intimate, heartfelt song seems to be the logical, yet paradoxically unexpected conclusion of the life story that the album took us through. It is a return to foundations the listener didn’t know of: finding oneself after an era of finding’s one way. This final destination — home, by all appearances — is decidedly the most humane locale compared to the other more frantic, distant stopovers. Yet, it doesn’t seem to manage to make the self-directed “I love you for your inside” and all it has for a response – timid volume variations in the listener’s steady heartbeat – meaningful enough. As our obsession grows, the leitmotiv repeats faster and faster, soon letting cracks appear on its facade. Eventually, the words lose all meaning in their exacerbation… Worse: far beyond mere semantic satiation, the timbre itself changes, distorting the medium in addition to the message. Previously unheard sharp, hissing consonants make their way to the surface, before being jumbled together with the rest into a vacuous brew.

Read here what I thought of the album the second time I listened to it — and if you’re interested in a track-by-track personal commentary, head over here! I also wrote about the track “Think Of Me” over here.