Unlike the surname she’s chosen for herself, Laetitia Shériff is not one to abide by (or enforce) the law. She’d even rather belong to those who gleefully transgress it, as attested by the list of her former partners, all slayers of the musical self-righteousness (tremendous jazz saxophonist Jean François Jeanneau, punk diva Lydia Lunch, electronic music producer Robert Le Magnifique, experimenter Noël Akchoté, or polymorphous guitarist Olivier Mellano...).
Within ten years, with no pre-established career plan in mind, the singer/bassist has been able to leave her imprint on a handful of challenging records, under her name or some other (Trunks), but also on soundtracks for documentaries, movies, the theatre or dance performances.
However, Lætitia Shériff’s real achievement has been her capacity to successfully focus this lust for freedom, to channel her blunt boldness. In that sense, her latest record, “Pandemonium Solace and Stars”, is a wonder of radiant rage and vivid despair, which now allows her to follow in the footsteps of some celebrated predecessors, such as Scott Walker, Neil Young or Nick Cave. For sure, no doubt that albums by Sonic Youth, Dominique A or The Breeders also hold prominent places in her record collection. She shares the same obsessions, at least – and the art of slipping in insidious melodies, like that on the chorus of “The Living Dead”, which haunts you all day long.
Backed by her longstanding friend Thomas Poli (who plays the guitar in Montgomery and works with Dominique A), drummer Nicolas Courret (Eiffel) and violinist Carla Pallone (Mansfield.Tya), who appears on three tracks, Lætitia Shériff wanders between Sonic Youth’s “Daydream Nation” and Kristin Hersh’s “Hips And Makers”, when the brightness of the guitars would seem for a moment able to overcome the creepy growl of the bass. But whether she catches you to spit her “Wash” in your face, or overwhelms you with the intensity of her “A Beautiful Rage II”, the Shériff always stirs you deep within. Because the grain of her voice, the sound of this tough balancing act of a record, tell us she does not cheat.
She cannot.
“It sounds like Love,” whispers the beauty at the end of the aerial “Far & Wide” which closes this album. Sort of, indeed.
KALCHA
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