“Parachute: a device used to slow movement or a person’s fall”
Parachute is Mélanie Pain’s third album, one that defies gravity.
From the first words there’s a startling contrast, an illusion of lightness, chiselled lyrics. Melanie has widened her horizons, decided to explore new territories and move towards the light. These are songs for a new beginning. “What’s the use?” she asks in the first verse. Why record a new album? It’s a question every artist should ask before buckling down. Is it a question to be avoided? Not at all - rather an invitation to throw away your compass in a world sorely in need of direction.
To deliberately lose her way and regain her equilibrium, Mélanie Pain made one of her dreams come true: working with Gael Rakotondrabe, pianist of the highly-respected Antony and the Johnsons (as well as CocoRosie). Parachute is entirely piano-based, deliberately no guitar was recorded. Since the dawn of (musical) time; it has been said: restrictions open possibilities, they tighten their grip then set you free. Mélanie has left her pop-folk influences far behind. The style is now hard to define – hybrid and modern, classical, almost aquatic. Mélanie is at ease here, experimental and theatrical on some tracks, minimalist and organic on others… always filled with emotion - hers, ours.
Darker and more intense, Mélanie explores her fears, and these demons produce wonders: the sweet violence of passing time (On dirait), dealing with mourning (Dans une boîte). Next comes light (Pristine) : “Are you ready to burn until the very end?” Yes, a hundred times yes. Then the piano returns in full force (Le mot), the desire to shed your skin (Là où l’été) and its ode to being naked, a chic, organic invitation, both sensual and carnal: “You’ll find me there under a stone, you’ll find me naked, you’ll find me so far from yesterday, you won’t recognise me… any more”.
Piano and percussion start (Lèvres Rubis), a declaration that only love can vanquish fear. All doubts evaporate. The heart and body feel lighter, life resurfaces. It is never too late: “Even tears evaporate” (On Dirait).
We know, we can feel it – this disc has softly illuminated Mélanie’s life. It may also, song after song, listen after listen, illuminate yours too.