Album Review: Un Après Midi d’Été by Pierre Delorme – A Sunny Stroll Through French Pop
If you’re the type who likes your music to feel like a lazy summer afternoon in Provence, complete with croissants and existential musings, then Un Après Midi d’Été might just be your jam. Released back in 2017 under the indie-friendly "Not On Label," this French pop gem from Pierre Delorme is a solid slice of chanson that feels both nostalgic and fresh—like rediscovering an old café you forgot you loved.
Let’s cut to the chase: there are 12 tracks here, each one dripping with Gallic charm, but two stuck out to me like baguettes at a picnic. First up, “La Guitare d’Alexandre.” It’s got this breezy guitar riff that sneaks up on you before settling into a groove so smooth it could butter toast. The lyrics? Quirky yet poetic—a love letter to someone else's guitar, which sounds weird but somehow works. I mean, how often do you hear a song about borrowing another dude’s instrument and making magic with it? Not enough, if you ask me.
Then there’s “Première Nuit,” which hits different because, well, it’s sultry AF. This track feels like wandering through Paris after dark, all moody streetlights and whispered promises. Delorme’s voice has this tender rasp that pulls you in, while the melody wraps around you like a velvet blanket. Honestly, it made me want to book a flight to France—or at least light some candles and pretend I’m somewhere fancier than my living room.
The rest of the album keeps things interesting too. Tracks like “C’est La Faute À Bourdieu” bring intellectual swagger (yep, name-dropping sociologists in pop songs is officially cool now), while “Les Arbres De Corot” paints vivid pictures of nature in a way only the French can pull off without sounding cheesy. And don’t even get me started on “Je Te Rencontrerai Dans Un Rêve”—it’s dreamy as hell, literally.
But here’s the kicker: for all its polished charm, Un Après Midi d’Été doesn’t try too hard. It’s not chasing trends or screaming for attention—it’s content to sit quietly in the corner looking effortlessly stylish, like every French person ever. That’s probably why it’s stayed with me long after the first listen.
So, would I recommend this album? Absolutely—especially if you’re into music that makes you think, feel, and maybe Google some obscure cultural references. Just don’t blame me when you find yourself daydreaming about strolling along the Seine or writing bad poetry about trees.
Final thought: Listening to this record felt like finding a forgotten Polaroid in an old coat pocket—faded but full of stories. Or maybe that’s just the wine talking. Either way, worth it.
