Agnès Gayraud wrote her own review when she gave this album its title. From opener ‘Senga,’ a shadowy, tactile chant in the vein of ‘I See a Darkness’-era Bonnie ‘Prince’ Billy, to the ghostly, plucked Ink Spots-channelling lullaby ‘Nu, Jeune, Léger’, this is a significant evolution from the synth pop of her last two albums. Fusing folk, art pop, jazz and electronics, this is a superbly thought-out record that covers a spectrum of mood and sonics while feeling like a single whole. If there is justice, this should be Gayraud’s breakthrough (or at least the one that gets a massive label to ask her to ruin everything and translate the songs into English).

Now, my GCSE French (A*, thank you) isn’t quite enough to get me beyond the prepositions, but I know what Gayraud is singing about. Highlights include ‘Le Royaume’, with its piercing brass freak-out, and the impossibly gorgeous dream pop pair of ‘Comité Rouge’ and ‘La Mer Avalée’. Just think, if David Davis gets his way, this music will be banned.