The Breton and Frenchman with the deep, distinctive voice, Bertrand Belin, returns with his eighth album, Watt.
Some compare Bertrand Belin to Alain Bashung. For me, what makes Belin so unique in the French-language music scene is his ability to make French “sound” like no one else.
A percussive, chiseled French, a sometimes strange string of words and ideas that only make sense when spoken aloud. For example: “I didn’t know the strangers in question personally,” the album’s opening line. It’s a bit jarring, isn’t it? A bit like some rappers do. For his part, Bertrand Belin sings, with gravity in every sense of the word.
Some might argue that this language is very French, with few connections to Quebec French, and features somewhat overused wordplay. Personally, I enjoy immersing myself in this undeniably French, yet surprisingly effective, world.
The title, Watt, comes from the electrical unit of measurement, the watts that come out of the loudspeakers, but is also the title of the novel by Samuel Beckett, written in 1953 in the south of France.
Musically, Watt continues the trajectory begun with Tambour Vision (2022). There’s less and less guitar and more and more synthesizers, strings, and electronics. The first guitar solo we hear is on the sixth track, Tel qu’en moi-même, and it sounds more jazzy than rock.
Belin seems determined to explore new musical territories, and the result is quite positive. The further you get into the album, the more you enter a meditative atmosphere, with slow, introspective rhythms.
We either embark on this Belin-esque or Belin-esque universe or not. Where there is talk of Data Rain, of Beatitude, of a Shepherd who is afraid of losing his flock, often with puns that are not always understandable.
Personally, I find Bertrand Belin very engaging, surprising, and impactful. Since we’re on the topic of “making French resonate,” I’ll contribute.
