It's a common misconception that all that contemporary French music has to offer the world are shimmering, electronica-laced pop albums that are great on the dance floor or in the bedroom, but not for much else. This is rubbish, of course, it's like saying that all Australian music can offer up is derivative brat-punk bands, or that all America can produce is boring "alternative" rock/metal bands. Obviously, bands of every genre exist and thrive in France, it's just that by sheer happenstance, most of the bands or artists that make it out of France happen to be quite deft hands with vocoders or synthesisers.

Colder is a case in point of the variety and depth in French music. Although referred to as a band, it is actually just one person, French artist Marc Nguyen (now there's a French name, if ever I heard one). Rather than taking cues from fellow countrymen Air and creating a light, joyful form of music that feels so insubstantial yet beautiful that it could be carried away in a light breeze, Nguyen instead takes inspiration from colder, more claustrophobic bands like Joy Division, while still giving his music a very electronic-based feel. What might have been a very good idea doesn't backfire totally, but you'd be hard-pressed to describe it as a success either.

Take the opening track, Crazy Love, for instance. While it's a pleasing song in its own right, it namechecks Joy Division so hard that you expect Ian Curtis to start singing at any moment. While it's often true that imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, the imitation is just a bit too close and cloying here. The very unoriginality of the track is something that unfortunately infests most of the songs on this record. Due to their derivativeness, or perhaps because of it, these songs lack that spark, that soul, which can move them from being technically adequate pieces of music to "good songs".

Beyond the admittedly big problem of the complete lack of originality, there isn't much to complain about here. The production is excellent, particularly songs like Confusion, which sound peculiarly inert, but which have enough of an odd charm to work on a dancefloor. Perhaps the best inclusion is a DVD package full of videos from Nguyen, which to be honest is a lot more entertaining than the CD is. These help to smooth over the massive flaws inherent in the concept of this album, but can't cover up the fact that there's a vital spark, an indefinable quality that's missing.

There's no one thing on this album that can be fixed up, and there's a lot of things which work in its favour. In particular, if you're not familiar with the works of groups like Joy Division and Can, you might even get a kick out of this release. With that said though, Nguyen's insistence on simple reproducing sounds instead of coming up with his own themes has been his undoing here.

It's a common misconception that all that contemporary French music has to offer the world are shimmering, electronica-laced pop albums that are great on the dance floor or in the bedroom, but not for much else. This is rubbish, of course, it's like saying that all Australian music can offer up is derivative brat-punk bands, or that all America can produce is boring "alternative" rock/metal bands. Obviously, bands of every genre exist and thrive in France, it's just that by sheer happenstance, most of the bands or artists that make it out of France happen to be quite deft hands with vocoders or synthesisers.

Colder is a case in point of the variety and depth in French music. Although referred to as a band, it is actually just one person, French artist Marc Nguyen (now there's a French name, if ever I heard one). Rather than taking cues from fellow countrymen Air and creating a light, joyful form of music that feels so insubstantial yet beautiful that it could be carried away in a light breeze, Nguyen instead takes inspiration from colder, more claustrophobic bands like Joy Division, while still giving his music a very electronic-based feel. What might have been a very good idea doesn't backfire totally, but you'd be hard-pressed to describe it as a success either.

Take the opening track, Crazy Love, for instance. While it's a pleasing song in its own right, it namechecks Joy Division so hard that you expect Ian Curtis to start singing at any moment. While it's often true that imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, the imitation is just a bit too close and cloying here. The very unoriginality of the track is something that unfortunately infests most of the songs on this record. Due to their derivativeness, or perhaps because of it, these songs lack that spark, that soul, which can move them from being technically adequate pieces of music to "good songs".

Beyond the admittedly big problem of the complete lack of originality, there isn't much to complain about here. The production is excellent, particularly songs like Confusion, which sound peculiarly inert, but which have enough of an odd charm to work on a dancefloor. Perhaps the best inclusion is a DVD package full of videos from Nguyen, which to be honest is a lot more entertaining than the CD is. These help to smooth over the massive flaws inherent in the concept of this album, but can't cover up the fact that there's a vital spark, an indefinable quality that's missing.

There's no one thing on this album that can be fixed up, and there's a lot of things which work in its favour. In particular, if you're not familiar with the works of groups like Joy Division and Can, you might even get a kick out of this release. With that said though, Nguyen's insistence on simple reproducing sounds instead of coming up with his own themes has been his undoing here.