There is a peculiar nostalgia at play on Drape Me in Velvet, the second album from Stockholm-based producer Musette (Joel Danell). The album’ back story is one of silent films, cheesy French discotheques, smooth crooning “60s lobby music and Parisian loft recitals on upright pianos. In rather a neat metaphor for the album’ indebtedness to the past, Drape Me in Velvet was recorded onto Danell’ collection of ’50s and “60s reel-to-reel tapes. Unlike digital recordings, tapes can never be fully erased, and though Musette recorded new layers of instruments onto the tapes, their old layers are still audible in ghostly lo-fidelity. The tape’ past lives, then, are not only an influence on Musette’s new compositions, but are allowed to sound in tandem with them.
The compositions themselves are retrospective, too, full of outdated organ sounds, brittle upright piano and gorgeously lavish string and brass arrangements. It’s an over-the-top smoothness that is particularly evocative of American “60s high society (think Eta James, Ella Fitzgerald or pretty much anything on the Mad Men soundtrack). And, while the tracks occasionally veer into the realm of twee, there is such heartfelt sentimentality in their construction that it is hard not to be drawn into their lush nostalgia. There are some nicely unexpected twists as well. “Horse Thoughts’ opens with some lolling Satie-esque piano figures before spilling into squealing lo-fi noise and swells of Hammond organ. As the track’ distorted tape sounds reach their climax, the piece fades out, leaving the idyllic arpeggios of “How to Behave in Elevators.’
What makes the album work as well as it does is the playfulness that underpins it. One need only glance at the glowing-eyed, blue-suited image of Musette that stares so intently from the cover to know that the producer does not take himself too seriously. The result is that the cheesy, retro-leaning sounds of the album seem fresh in Musette’s hands – more like chance discoveries in an op shop bargain bin than worn out tapes your parents made you listen to as a kid. Drape Me in Velvet is a worthwhile listen for that reason alone. It is part collage, part pastiche – something borrowed, something blue…
Henry Andersen
