Album Review: Christine and the Queens, “Chris”
Channeling the mundane while challenging convention, Christine and the Queens delivers an album anyone can identify with, even if you’re not quite sure why
People love to compartmentalize. From a person’s talents to their desires, everything needs to match a specific definition or standard set in stone by someone before them. Even in art, where freedom of expression is assumed as part of the form, we interpret using the preconceived notions of others. Heloise Letissier, aka Christine and the Queens, wants to challenge such assumptions on her latest effort, Chris. Instead of providing answers, Letissier wants to provoke questions.
“Through desire, I get to explore many different identities” she disclosed to Fader earlier this week. Like Prince before her, whom she proudly tributed on the day of his death, Letissier does as she pleases, a straightforward approach that produces complicated results, albeit ones applicable to anyone who follows their gut.
Even the title suggests a more grounded atmosphere, one familiar and accessible to all: who among us doesn’t know a Chris? Where Chaleur Humaine felt soft and curious, Chris feels confrontational. The wispy and tentative approach of tracks such as “St. Claude” and “Ugly-Pretty” gets brushed aside as synths and funk sashay to the forefront.
One cannot listen to Chris without hearing Letissier’s dissections of sex and sexuality. “Girlfriend”’s groovy swagger belies a need to break free of conventional standards of lovers and partners. The “butch babe” of “Damn (what must a woman do)” expresses her vexation at the limits placed upon a woman’s pleasure: “Shame and isolation/crippled with lust.” Yet, Letissier still reaches for hope in “5 Dollars”, a wistful account of a sex worker finding strength in what ways they can. Stretching that dollar for its full value, she soars.
As much as it probes sex, Chris also delves into the everyday feelings of insignificance and uncertainty. Yet instead of defeat, defiance bursts forth, though at times tinged with hints of frustration and sorrow. “The walker” channels such frustrations, where Letissier pines for something upon which to direct her anger. Meanwhile, “what’s-her-face”, guided along by a cut-time bassline, recalls the hardship of teenage years, difficulties that, whether we want them to or not, reside with us years after. It’s in “Doesn’t Matter” she faces these fears head on, reclaiming her autonomy from a world determined to strip her of it.
“There’s pride in my singing” she announces on opener “Comme Si”, its arrival heralded by a glissando similar to the iconic THX sound. Special attention must be paid to Letissier’s voice, an instrument she uses with the expertise of a maestro. One moment it’s a Soundcloud whisper singer, the next it resembles a Gregorian chant – the chorus of “What’s-her-face” showcases this perfectly.
Gliding between French, English, and even a bit of Spanish, Chris’s linguistic combinations strongly resonate in a world with bilingual Jpop and Kpop icons. These leaps of language match Letissier’s own fluid identity and make for bizarre and wonderful rhymescapes. “When I was sixteen, everything was just like in this Goya/ Who came there to see, who is seen, and qui mange quoi?”, combining English and French to rhyme with a famous Spanish artist. Few artists are capable of such comparisons, but few artists possess the range of Letissier, who delivered a double album in two languages.
“From the congregation flames have been bursting for years” comes as a final battle cry on the Bandoneon-assisted closer, “The stranger”. Now, with a larger platform, Letissier can ensure that the pulpit hears her loud and clear. Taking such actions against convention and even what you know to be “true” makes for an intimidating experience, largely because it involves engaging in unexplored ideas and territory. But the opposite, complacency, is never an option for Letissier: “Scared as one should/but it still feels so good”. She recommends you take the plunge.
Grade: A-