Lou in the ICU


I’ve often said that I could never live up to my father. At once, when necessary, commanding with a belly full of fire he knows how to manage people well and is built for work. He’s never sick, he handles difficult situations deftly and works like a dog. If he’s not working for the boss man on the weekend he’s maintaining the house or helping his kids out with theirs (ever beyond the call).
I don’t mean to be a Warren, the son version, though I’ve learnt much from him and I think it sustains me, particularly during the darkest hours.

Lou Doillon perhaps follows my kind of mentality, at once acknowledging the success of and bucking the trend of her folks Jane Birken and Jacques Doillon when she said “I had every reason in the world not to go into music.” She had after all started out acting and modelling. Ah, but perhaps what her statement really reveals is that it was her calling to make music (not an obligation). And when you listen to her album, Places, you’re want to agree. I’m obsessed with the single ICU, a beautiful bleak number, in which horns are subtly introduced as the bridge climaxes.

Her paternal influences are evident here, however she is striking a chord with a new generation. The French slant and smokey deep vocals deliver a tone and mood that makes you reach for a glass of red while buried under a blanket. Good timing too for us Canberrans, frosted by the mountain air as winter envelopes our tiny town. I imagine Places could only sound better in LP/record form.

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