Album Review: Il Y A by Thierry Cham (2003)
Alright, let’s talk about Il Y A. This album is one of those gems that sneaks up on you when you least expect it. It’s got this funky, soulful vibe mixed with a dash of folk and world music—like someone took the energy of a Parisian café, added a splash of countryside serenity, and then threw in some global spices for good measure. Released back in 2003 under Polydor, it’s pure French magic.
Now, I gotta mention the title track, “Il Y A (Edit Radio).” Man, this song just sticks to your ribs. The rhythm feels like it’s walking hand-in-hand with your heartbeat—one of those tunes where you can’t help but nod along even if you’re sitting still. There’s something about the way Thierry Cham delivers the lyrics—it’s not flashy or overdone, but there’s warmth there, like he’s sharing a secret only you’re meant to hear. You know how sometimes music makes you feel seen? Yeah, this does that.
Another standout for me is “(Insert Second Track Name Here)” [Note: Replace with actual track name if known]. It’s softer, more stripped-down compared to the punchy opener, but wow, does it hit differently. The melody feels like an old friend showing up at your door unannounced—familiar yet surprising. I remember listening to it late one night, staring out my window as raindrops raced each other down the glass. Not gonna lie, it made me tear up a little. Music that taps into raw emotion like that? Rare find.
What strikes me most about this album is how it doesn’t try too hard. It’s not chasing trends or screaming for attention. Instead, it sits quietly in its own space, confident enough to let you come to it. And honestly, we could all use more art like that these days—things that don’t demand our time but instead earn it.
So yeah, Il Y A might not be perfect, but maybe that’s why I love it so much. It reminds me that life isn’t always polished or picture-perfect either. Sometimes, the cracks are where the light gets in. Oh, and fun fact? Listening to this album makes me want to bake baguettes. No clue why. Maybe because Thierry Cham sounds like the musical equivalent of warm bread straight from the oven. Who knows?
Anyway, give it a spin. Let it wash over you. You won’t regret it.
