Chants Et Rythmes 11: A French Kid-Tastic Musical Adventure
If you’ve ever wondered what happens when France decides to make kiddie tunes sound like they belong in a Parisian café, Chants Et Rythmes 11 by Jean Naty is your answer. Released under the Armand Colin label, this album feels like a mix of classroom singalongs and something you’d hum while sipping espresso on a sunny afternoon. With Nathalie Boyer leading the vocals and Jean Naty wearing multiple hats (arranger and director—busy guy!), this collection of tracks has just enough charm to stick in your head without making you regret pressing play.
Let’s zoom in on two standout tracks that’ll have you nodding along—or at least pretending not to enjoy children's music too much.
First up, "Voici Le Carnaval." This one kicks off with an energy level higher than a toddler hopped up on fruit snacks. It’s got this bouncy rhythm that screams “parade,” but instead of clowns and floats, it’s more like…a parade for vegetables? Whatever it is, Nathalie Boyer’s voice carries the tune effortlessly, weaving through playful lyrics about celebration and silliness. You can practically picture little kids spinning around their living rooms like human tornadoes while this plays. And honestly? That’s kind of delightful.
Then there’s "Les Fleurs Se Balancent," which translates roughly to "The Flowers Are Swaying"—because apparently flowers need their own anthem. This track slows things down just enough to give your ears a breather. The orchestration here shines, painting vivid mental pictures of daisies doing interpretive dances in the breeze. Sure, it might lean toward cheesy territory, but let’s be real—it works. There’s something oddly soothing about imagining Mother Nature busting out some choreography.
Now, I gotta say, listening to this album as an adult feels a bit like sneaking into a kindergarten class uninvited. But hey, if you’re looking for background music that won’t melt your brain or offend your inner child, Chants Et Rythmes 11 delivers. It’s quirky, wholesome, and just polished enough to remind you why kids’ music doesn’t always have to involve obnoxious electronic beats or talking animals.
Final thought? If Jean Naty ever decided to throw a concert for this album, I’d totally go—but only if they served croissants at intermission. Because let’s face it, no French project is complete without carbs.
