Alright, let’s dive into this little gem of an album—Salade De Fruits Quand Les Saints Vont Au Paradis. First off, it’s by some unknown artist from France, which already gives it that mysterious vibe. The genres? Folk, World, Country, and Pop all mashed together like… well, a salad de fruits, I guess. Released under Disques Elysées, this record feels like stumbling across a dusty vinyl in a Parisian flea market—you’re not sure what you’ve found yet, but something about it grabs you.
Now, onto the tracks. The first one, “Salade De Fruits,” is just plain fun. It’s got this bouncy rhythm that makes me want to grab a baguette and dance around my kitchen (don’t judge). There’s a playful energy here, with handclaps or maybe even spoons clinking—it’s raw, unpolished, and totally charming. It reminds me of those summer days when life feels so simple, ya know? Like eating ripe strawberries straight outta the carton without caring about the juice dripping down your chin. This track sticks because it doesn’t try too hard; it’s just happy to exist.
Then there’s “Quand Les Saints Vont Au Paradis.” Oh man, this one hits different. It starts slow, almost meditative, like walking through misty French countryside at dawn. But then—BAM!—it builds into this soulful anthem that feels both sacred and rebellious. You can practically picture villagers gathering for a festival, singing along as they twirl each other under the stars. It’s kinda haunting, but in a good way, like nostalgia wrapped up in golden light. I can’t stop humming the chorus hours after listening, even though I have no clue what the lyrics mean. That’s how music should be—universal enough to hit you right in the feels, no translation needed.
What gets me about this album is its scrappy charm. These songs aren’t polished studio masterpieces—they feel alive, like someone poured their heart out in a tiny room somewhere in France. And honestly, isn’t that what folk music’s all about? Stories passed down, moments captured before they fade away.
So yeah, if you’re looking for something slick and shiny, this ain’t it. But if you wanna hear music that smells like fresh bread and sounds like laughter spilling out of a café window, give Salade De Fruits Quand Les Saints Vont Au Paradis a spin. Weird title aside, it’s one of those albums that sneaks up on you when you least expect it.
Funny thing is, now every time I see fruit salad on a menu, I think of this record. Makes me wonder if the artist was hungry while writing it. Art’s funny like that, huh?
