Silk Skin Lovers — Félix Foucambert (vocals, guitar), Jean-Baptiste Halin (bass, bass synths), Lucas Lerbret (guitar, backing vocals) and London-born Callum Taylor (keys, backing vocals) — is a rising French indie rock outfit that emerged into French scene with a handful of singles inspired by and informed by nightlife and nightlife revelry.
Last year’s debut EP, Bloom saw the band crafting material that frequently bounced between playful optimism and delight to late-night melancholy. In many ays, the EP evoked the blurring of memories from a night out to the brink of sobering up a bit as you head home — or when you arrive home, whichever came first. And although the EP’s material is primarily rooted in a magical surrealism, there are points where it reveals a thoughtful band concerned about serious issues of the day, including racism and police brutality.
“The first seeds of Bloom were planted in the summer of 2020,” the members of Silk Skin Lovers explain. “As a young and developing band, we found ourselves growing in a context that was harsh and complicated, as opportunities for artists were scarce to non-existent for a period. The EP was a natural response to not only the artistic restraints we were faced with, but the frustration of being away from what we love to do, and further from our aspirations as musicians.”
Earlier this year, I wrote about the uptempo Smiths-like EP single “Moon 1AM,” a track that revealed itself to be deceptively upbeat: the song is actually a dreamy and bittersweet rumination meant to make you dance away your sorrows for a few minutes.
Silk Skin Lovers followed that up with the Beach House-like “Forever,” a slow-burning ballad centered around atmospheric synths, shimmering, reverb-drenched guitars, gently padded drums and Foucambert’s achingly plaintive vocals. The end result is a song that simultaneously evoked euphoria and melancholy.
The French pop outfit’s latest single “Wake Me Up When We Get There” continues a remarkable run of hook driven, dance floor friendly bops. Featuring glistening synth arpeggios, shimmering guitars, Foucambert’s achingly earnest delivery paired with metronomic-like thump and the act’s knack for infectious, razor sharp hooks, “Wake Me Up When We Get There” is a decidedly indebted to 80s pop — and if you’re a child of the 80s, you’ll probably think of A Flock of Seagulls, Human League and countless others.
But much like the previously released “Moon 1AM,” “Wake Me Up When We Get There” sees the band specializing in — and subtly refining — what the band has dubbed “happy melancholy.” It’s the sort of song where you can bond with those who have experienced a similar heartache as you with a knowing nod — and the sort of song meant for you to dance away your hurt for a few minutes.