What The Critics Say
Keren Ann Zeidel's international pedigree -- born in Tel Aviv, raised in Paris, now splits her time between there and New York -- served her well on her first four albums, but this fifth, sung entirely in English, is her most worldly yet. Chalk that up, one would suppose, to a busy touring life and a growing confidence to experiment both with identity and available musical tools. By self-titling the album, Keren Ann is by default making a statement that this is her statement. That means that the recording would have to be not only extra-special good but representative of who she thinks she is at the moment it is unleashed on an ever-growing audience. And it is that good: it's the singer/songwriter's most far-reaching, defining album yet. While her trademark wisp of a voice still dominates most of the album's real estate, it meets up here with a different, more aggressive and courageous Keren Ann as well: on "It Ain't No Crime," with its heavy blues thump and screaming distorted guitar, she sings in a compressed, insistent voice, "There are no victims/There is no truth/We take their money/They take our youth," something so surprisingly shivery the Keren Ann of albums one through four would never have dared go there. The record, at times, is a circus of sounds, an ornate hodgepodge of moody keyboards and skronky guitars, wordless angel chorales, ambient electronics, airy woodwinds and overcharged fuzzboxes. On the album's minimal, Velvets-ish opener, "It's All a Lie," a slow build sucks in droning bass and distant sonic chaos beneath Keren Ann's typically languid vocal. She barely rises above Cowboy Junkies lethargy, and the song never picks up the pace from there but, drenched in reverb, a climax sneaks up, the song finally sputtering around directionless like a balloon whose air has been let out. On "The Harder Ships of the World," over lightly plucked guitar, she manages to squeeze every bit of expression out of an almost non-existent range of dynamics, barely rising above a whisper but drenching every word in raw emotion. More so than before, perhaps, Keren Ann seems to be enjoying herself, directing her music less self-consciously than before and asserting her eagerness to shift moods and stretch the sonic easel on which she builds. Her enunciation, no doubt because of her geographic rootlessness, isn't always as clear as it could be, but that indistinctiveness ultimately serves to add an even larger air of mystery to the already mysterious. The six-minute tour de force "Liberty" spends its last couple of minutes dishing out a repetitive piano tinkle, disembodied vocal chorus and aimless, backwards looped instruments -- all of that vies for attention but the singer pays it no mind as she goes about her business. On "Lay Your Head Down," polyrhythmic handclaps and surfy guitar precede a half-spoken intro, which suddenly morphs into utter prettiness. Keren Ann never really says more than "Why don't you lay your head down in my arms?," allowing the various strings, harmonica and layered vocals to amend her thoughts. She doesn't need to: she's said all she has to say. Keren Ann fills all of the air and space here but the music never feels crowded and never loses its way. Only an artist who has run head-on into self-discovery can get away with that. ~ Jeff Tamarkin, All Music Guide
What The Critics Say
Keren Ann Zeidel relocated to New York between the release of Not Going Anywhere and Nolita (which, more than anything else, stands for moving just north of Little Italy). Nolita also marks her separation from creative partner Benjamin Biolay. While pre-production for Nolita began in France -- and indeed, half the tracks here are in French -- the album was finished in her new home country. She produced it herself. These songs are different than the hip lullabies of Not Going Anywhere. The music here is breezy still -- there's so much air and whisp in her voice and in the arrangements one can get the impression the music is literally floating by -- but there is weight in the lyrics and in the instrumentation. And while Zeidel's songwriting may be graced by the kisses of many of her influences, from Astrud Gilberto to Joni Mitchell to Serge Gainsbourg and Jane Birkin to Belle and Sebastian, her music here is her own, and it unwraps itself very, very slowly. The French cuts stand out, such as the dreamy, seductive ballad "L'Onde Amere," with Avishai Morin's trumpet playing Chet Baker to her Françoise Hardy. Likewise the Mellotron, bass and electric guitar saunter that introduces "La Forme et le Fond," feels more like samba meets backbeat conscious post-rock at a snail's pace. However, taken as a whole, Nolita is utterly beguiling. It is assured, statuesque, and fully realized. It captures moments, single moments, and stretches them out as it imprints on the mind and in the heart of the listener. ~ Thom Jurek, All Music Guide
'Not Going Anywhere'
What The Critics Say
Not Going Anywhere sees Keren Ann Zeidel operating in the same hushed tones as her previous albums and once again collaborating with Benjamin Biolay. While Zeidel has been compared to Dido and Portishead in the past, few would make similar comparisons this time around as trip-hop vibes really appear only on the playful "Sailor & Widow." Otherwise, the pace is held steady around 20 BPM and more frequently there are no beats at all. Instead, Zeidel frolics in a whispery, moody genre that might be appropriately labeled neo-folk, late-night lullaby. On the somewhat unsettling songs "End of May" and "Right Now & Right Here," Zeidel's voice is a dead-ringer for Lisa Germano, and since the music mostly consists of quietly strummed acoustic guitars, pianos, and violins, the music seems equally Germano-esque. On these songs, one can't help but note similarities to Mary Timony's dark lullabies as well. But where Germano and Timony traverse in adult themes, Zeidel and Biolay's songs would be a perfect fit for a toddler's nursery rhyme album. A very hip toddler's nursery rhyme album, that is. Elsewhere, a number of other influences are apparent, from the Belle & Sebastian-flavored title track to a series of tunes near the album's close that seem touched by the hands of Van Dyke Parks or Rufus Wainwright. Lush, minimal, and always gentle, Not Going Anywhere reaffirms Zeidel's gorgeous voice and should be a soundtrack for the hippest coffeehouses around the globe. ~ Tim DiGravina, All Music Guide
'La Biographie de Luka Philipsen'
What The Critics Say
Like Coralie Clément, Keren Ann may not have the widest range, but she makes the most of it. Her vocals are light, delicate, and pretty, as if she has found a way to combine talking, whispering, and singing into one fluid approach (and as if she has listened to a few Astrud Gilberto albums in her time). La Biographie de Luka Philipsen was the French singer/songwriter's debut and many of the songs were co-written with longtime associate Benjamin Biolay (Clément's older brother). Biolay also produced, played several instruments (guitar, trumpet, and trombone), and provided the orchestral arrangements. The pleasing results are somewhat like a modern-day Serge Gainsbourg-Françoise Hardy collaboration. They even duet on one song, "Decrocher les Etoiles." Consequently, Biolay has often been compared to Gainsbourg, and Keren Ann has often been compared to Hardy, but Keren Ann -- like Biolay -- is a multi-instrumentalist, as well, and plays guitar and clarinet on the album. In addition, she has written songs for other artists, most notably Henri Salvador. The Brazilian-sounding "Jardin d'Hiver," which appears on La Biographie (and was co-written by Biolay), first showed up on Salvador's Chambre Avec Vue. It became a big hit for the 83-year-old French jazz musician and would garner awards (like the prestigious Victoires de la Musique) and considerable acclaim for Keren Ann and Biolay. ~ Kathleen C. Fennessy, All Music Guide
What The Critics Say
French chanteuse Keren Ann follows up her La Biographie de Luka Philipsen debut with the dazzling La Disparition. It's a romantic songbook of moods and tones, and a delightful set of traditional pop songs perfect for any season. Ann's soft, wispy vocals are the main attraction simply because they're that lovely. From the innocent childlike love of "Coin du Monde" and "Surranee" to the heartbreaking sophistication of "Illusioniste," La Disparition flows without pretense and with an unspoken kind of beauty. What's even more enchanting is the more cinematic, dark-hued numbers like the sultry chill of "Sable Mouvant" and the samba-flavored "La Corde et les Chaussons." It's here that Ann truly shines as a vocalist -- a near vocal seductress is more like it -- and as a performer. She possesses similar grace to that of Astrud Gilberto and Ivy's Dominique Durand. La Disparition is a stylish look at Ann's work in progress; she's really coming into her own as a traditional pop artist. ~ MacKenzie Wilson, All Music Guide
