Emily Loizeau 'Pays Sauvage' (Bella Union) Release date 26.10.09

For Emily Loizeau's sophomore release she's bagged a band of revelers in that most Devendra Banhartian of manners, calling 'Pays Sauvage' (Wild Country) her 'hippie record'. Loizeau has built the bohemian collective of musician's based around touring partners Olivier Kounduono on cello, drummer/guitarist Cyril Aveque and Jocelyn West on violin, while the accompanying troupe include the duetting Herman Dune and the mercurial folk collective of Moriarty prop up many of the more zesty moments.

Musically, all homely manner of woodwind pervades, with strings and recorders (like at school) make for a merry gladbag. There's the old chestnut of Franglais throughout that makes for a international reach, while a modern chanson verve alongside arias and laments have a peachy sassiness as Loizeau sings of love and loss, signaling a revived spirit having worked through the grief of the loss of her father. The titular 'Pays Sauvage' is a mercurial windswept romp where harp pluckings, violin and roving percussion are bolstered by Loizeau's sweet cracked vocal, while on 'Fais Battre Ton Tambour' there's tin-pan alley percussion and banjo that reveals her love of Tom Waits, and 'Tell Me You Don't Cry' features English delivery and an almost Waitsian balladry. 'That Little Something', meanwhile, cuts a sass with a jazz/blues lite as Loizeau sings how she's as darling as the buds of May. 'Sister' has a summery juvenile lilt as gentle strums and brass nod to Yael Naim (aye, the MacBook ad which adopted 'New Soul'), while there's a Carole King-like whimsy to 'In Our Dreams', and the chamber work 'Songes' bridges the language divide with a Emiliana Torrini-like bravado and flair.

The jubilant 'Ma Maison' relays the home-at-the-hearth importance beneath Loizeau's nomadic soul and 'I'm Facing A World Of Anger' lets lose a pissed off Piaf-like rage against the walls and black holes of a partner. 'La Dernière Pluie' sounds hippy and dippy with hand-claps and minstrel recorder, but the playful verse of 'Coconut Madam' is a witty ditty that owes to Harry Nilsson, and 'La Femme a Barbe' has lots of phonetic Francais cadence with clashing percussion and vocal. Meanwhile 'Dis Moi Que Tu Ne Pleures Pas' wraps duets around like some Celtic lament married with a Grecian wedding, and the theatrical luminaire 'The Princess and the Toad' interchanges nationalities in an entente cordiale singalong. The piano work of her debut album, 'L'autre bout du Monde', has been ditched given that none was to hand at her Ardeche home, making for the centre-stage of Loizeau's vocal and the collektivist artists. It's a spirited work and something of a departure from the roster that forms the Bella Union family. Musically, however, Loizeau is at home, though those hoping for more alt-pysch-folk experimentalism need look elsewhere. It's a disparate choice that takes some warming to and it's hard to see the Glasto-throng in thrall as they were to Fleet Foxes, or the Green Man in abeyance to Andrew Bird.

Nevertheless, it's more whoopee than frou frou.