Malajube’s third album starts off with mystic “Moonlight
Sonata”-like keyboards on “Ursuline,” a seven-minute epic about the
historic Quebecois order of nuns. Labyrinthes quickly delves
into a miasma of dark religious references, positioned against a
background of dreamy, ethereal pop music. Think spiritual labyrinths
rather than David Bowie; actually, think both cathedrals and David
Bowie. Most tracks start off with a lullaby quality before delving into
a somewhat muted version of earlier recordings. It’s a similar sort of
mystic, skeptical romanticizing of the spectre of Catholicism that
haunts Quebec and its young atheists, as portrayed in Arcade Fire’s
2007 Neon Bible. Malajube is still unabashedly French-Canadian
and the wealth of Quebecois and Catholic mysticism alluded to in the
lyrics unfortunately has gotten lost on many foreign reviewers. It’s
also been lost a little in the music, which is more settled, less
catchy and danceable than 2006’s Trompe L’Oeil, which merited
them a Polaris Prize nomination. Though they’ve matured thematically
and musically, I could do with a little more of the snarky, irreverent
attitude of Trompe-L’Oeil. Either way, it’s a well-crafted set
of songs. Hopefully Malajube keeps stubbornly singing French lyrics to
anglophone audiences who can’t even remember the days of the week in
our other official language.
This article appears in Jun 4-10, 2009.