By Avalon Vowles

The Limiñanas continue to provide that sweet blend of 60s French pop and contemporary psychedelic garage that we all should look to for some well earned escapism. They have harboured a sonic fuzz so saccharine, one that will bring us out of the solemn pits of frosty February. Faded is their new album, but it’s here to stay.

The story behind the album stems from the lyrics of ‘New Age’ by The Velvet Underground, but ultimately is inspired by all the female fallen stars who have been left behind, or have “faded” away in the harsh wake of time. White censored faces of the forgotten haunt the album cover, establishing an atmosphere of veiled mystery, which is certainly prevalent throughout their narratives and the musical metaphors that expose the dark underbelly of old Hollywood.

The couple of songbirds, Lionel and Marie Limiñana, hail from a small town in the South of France, but are taking on the modern garage scene with all the gusto of Gainsbourg and Bardot. Singing both in English and French, they have previously released 8 studio albums and with a numerous amount of compliations and collaborations under their belt (from the likes of Iggy Pop and The Brian Jonestown Massacre), they don’t seem to be slowing down anytime soon. Their sound, although reminiscent of contemporary post-punk and psychedelia, has a unique ability to capture a nostalgia which can only be found in the undercurrents of Italian horror film soundtracks and Joel Gion’s suave knack for tambourining.

The Limiñanas have invited a series of seriously impressive contributers to make their own respledent mark on the album, such as Primal Scream’s Bobby Gillespie and Bertrand Belin. Each weaves their own imagination in with the Faded storyline, dubbed “an Italian patchwork” by the duo. The product is a multifaceted double album, bursting at the seams with meaning, flair, and experimental beauty.

Opening with ‘Spirale’, the instrumental vibe-setter, before plunging into the Gillespie-tinged ‘Prisoner of Beauty’, the beginning of the record blends bright acoustics with hypnotic and fuzzy riffs. This melancholic but bewitching tone is reverberated in songs like ‘J’adore le monde’ and ‘Shout’, which respectively have their own addictive murmurs and buzzing timbres.

The title track is the first to have female lead vocals and with the euphonious help of singer-songwriter PENNY, the satisying close-harmony choruses, that are riddled with castanets, will ease you into the sultry and intimate ‘Catherine’. ‘The Dancer’ and ‘Space Baby’ take a more electronic route than the previous, with robust synth drones and mesmeric bass riffs which are accompanied by spacey feedback and those all important marching drums. The visceral soundtrack then turns another sonic corner with the dreamy but moody ‘Tu viens Marie?’ and ‘Autour de chez moi’, which channel the passionate sensuality of Gainsbourg and Birkin’s ‘Je t’aime moi non plus‘, with warm call and response and cascading distortion.

This leaves the dastardly cool ‘Degenerate Star’ and the two covers on the album: Richard Berry’s ‘Louie Louie’ and Françoise Hardy’s (RIP) ‘Où va la chance’. Ending with a Hardy cover, in all it’s soft lofi glory, leaves a sentimental wistfulness in the air, evocative of the concept behind the album. We are left to reminisce and call to mind all those big-screen stars who haven’t managed to stand the test of time. Women lost in the harsh catacombs of a male-dominated industry.

In their Cabestany studio, Marie (always in charge of the drums and percussion) and Lionel (on guitars, bass, and keyboards) realise The Limiñanas sound with the aid of Pascal Comelade and David Mende (who captains the mixing). I’m hoping that they will continue to make these essential musical contributions to the charming world of psych-garage for the forseeable. Listen to Faded in a way that it deserves to be – all in one go, and very loud.

Faded is out now via Because Music – physical copies are available to purchase here.

Source: Album review: The Limiñanas – Faded – Joyzine