After jumping headfirst into the pop mainstream with the Dr. Luke-produced album Completement Fou in 2014, the French duo Yelle survived the plunge mostly unscathed. They didnt manage to break through to the masses, but a string of singles subsequently released between 2016 and 2018 showed that their grasp of bubbly dance pop remained strong and the songs benefited from the gentle scrubbing away of some of the shinier upgrades the pop machine affixed to their sound. LEre du Verseau completes the process and then some, with the result being the most streamlined, deepest-sounding, and most powerful album theyve made yet. Its the first time theyve added some darker colors to their paintbox; the basslines are heavier than anchor chains, the synths are as likely to be enveloping as they are to be chirpy, and Julie Budet proves a crack hand at melancholy as she croons sadly through ballads like the synth pop weeper Jveux un chien and the late-night robot R&B cloudburst Je taime encore. For the first time, it also feels like Yelle are more interested in writing songs with some feeling behind them, instead of crafting only shiny baubles of dance-pop brilliance. There are a few examples of their old way of operating -- Karate is a booming jam complete with lightning-fast drum fills, vocal gymnastics, and the kind of killer breakdown Yelle are known for, while Menu du jour is an insistent track with twinkling keys, a rumbling beat, and a sweetly sung vocal. For the most part, though, this album almost sounds like the work of another band -- one who can still knock the listener out with a crafty hooky and an off-beat, but who truly soar when they apply those skills to a melancholy melody. Vue den face is a stunning midtempo pop song that melds a sparkling verse with a heart-stopping chorus as Budet underplays the vocals and her cohort GrandMarnier builds a wall of sound out of warm synthesizers. This song -- and others like the insistent bummer house track Emancipense or the radiant album-ending soundtrack to a dream that is Un million -- are proof that Budet and GrandMarnier didnt jettison the things that made them special, but by toning down the brazenly technicolor pop in favor of a richer, more expressive palette, theyve made an album thats not only good for dancing, but also provokes a deeper response. The world of giddy pop may miss Yelle, but fans of gently heartbroken synth pop should welcome them with open arms. ~ Tim Sendra

Rovi