Review: Charlotte Gainsbourg – IRM

IRM may be one of Beck’s finest records released to date. The only thing is, it’s not really Beck’s album – it’s Charlotte Gainsbourg’s. You may know of Miss Gainsbourg as an actress, (Science of Sleep, 21 Grams), maybe you’re familiar with her past two albums as a musician, or it’s highly probably you just recognize the surname and are familiar with her famous parents, fellow French musicians Jane Birkin and Serge Gainsbourg. If this is the first you’ve heard of her, it’s a task that’s long overdue – Gainsbourg released her third full length LP this past week, IRM, and it’s simply breathtaking.


Written, produced and recorded by the creative genius of Beck, his influences are highly visible on every number of the 13-track album. Gainsbourg even borrowed Beck’s back-up band, (and his father on strings!) with Beck himself backing up vocals on numerous songs, particularly highlighting the ever catchy single, “Heaven Can Wait.”

IRM, which is French for MRI, was chosen as the album title to reflect Gainsbourg’s head injury due to a skiing accident in 2007. She was haunted from the sounds of the machine, and wanted to capture this influence in her album – listening to IRM, it’s apparent with the usage of Beck’s signature synthetic and electronic production how they sought out this sound. Before I even did any digging around, the comparisons of IRM to Beck, particularly his latest effort, Modern Guilt, were on the top of my radar. I found myself thumbing back and forth on my iPod, linking similarities between the two albums, especially with the ghostly tambourine space travel influence of chimes, doorbells, reverb and synth work of title track “IRM” and the first few seconds of “Orphans” or “Chemtrails.” It’s more than apparent that Beck’s influence was the main driving creative force in this recording. This isn’t to say that Gainsbourg herself didn’t contribute her fair share, however. Without her delicate, child-like, lush vocals we would just have another Beck record. Gainsbourg’s ability to clutch at your heart, and seep like sticky honey into your listening pleasure is phenomenal. She’s not just your average pretty face, singer-songwriter. From the Hawaiian luao-esque guitar picking strums of album opener, “Master’s Hands,” Gainsbourg desperately and needingly grasps the listener with her delicate, yet whispering instructions to “Breathe out, come alive – give me a reason to feel.” It’s a solid invitation, layered with several different beds of instrumentation – guitar, synth, percussion and hauntingly feminine vocals, yet pieced together so simply to reflect a genuine, upbeat pop song.


“Heaven Can Wait,” the first single, is a spectacular example of how Gainsbourg can utilize her melodic and song-bird vocal abilities effortlessly. Her casual and cool, almost monotone delivery would normally annoy me with other singers, however, her flat diction just emphasizes how beautiful her voice really is, perfectly harmonizing with Beck’s similar style. The song is just damn right catchy, too – even earning a stripped, ethereal organ featured remix of the track on the iTunes LP from Grizzly Bear’s Chris Taylor.

Perhaps the biggest stand-out track on the album, “Trick Pony,” is a delectably dirty and gritty throwback to what electro-grunge may have sounded like, if it was a genre, say in 1950. Gainsbourg rocked this single live on Letterman this past January, and it’s an excellent sample of her versatility from sugary-sweet songbird to dirty, sensual rocker. Following its darker pace, the electronic infused “Greenwich Mean Time” keeps the transition flowing with its simple, stripped vocals and series of bass thumping, electronic feel of synth work. Strewn within the 13 songs, Gainsbourg sings in her native tongue in the gentle and orchestral, “Voyage,” the sensual, yet heavily Beck produced, “Le chat du Café des Artistes,” and in bits of the dreamy, tranquil and light album closer lullaby, “La collectionneuse.”


From start to finish, Gainsbourg manages to take her listeners on a dreamy journey from delicate eloquence to dirty addiction, all whilst doing it seemingly effortlessly and coolly. She’s proven herself as a pertinent pop star and it makes me wonder what the music scene would look like today if we all had sustained head injuries and were friends with Beck.