La Mer

There is a mythical island that exists only in Claude Fontaine’s ima­gination. It’s somewhere off the coast of France but the trade winds blow a soothing tropical breeze. The inhabitants converse in an alluring mélange of French and Portuguese. The air is fragrant and sweet. The water is the color of Lapis Lazuli. The stone citadels of this invisible city are scarred by time, but the natives exist in a velvet eternity.

If you wander at night amidst the starlit cobblestone roads, you might chance upon the official house band of this halcyon offshore republic. A mysterious ensemble fronted by an American girl with a French name singing a romantic collection of spells assembled under the name, La Mer. With their dulcet fusion of ‘60s French ye-ye pop, slinky Studio One reggae, and liminal Brazilian tropicalia, Claude Fontaine’s songs embody the best kept dreams of a globally connected world. The second album from the Los Angeles artist reflects the dream of creating the soundtrack for this utopia by the sea.

“The island was a complete figment of my imagination, but it’s where I found myself living while writing the songs,” Fontaine says. “A fantasy place where I could be surrounded by the people I wanted to be around, the people I already loved, and a love that I had never had. The songs felt like prayers or a manifestation about what I was hoping to put forward. ”

Released on Innovative Leisure, La Mer is a mesmerizing portal. It’s impossible for it to exist outside of the modern moment, but it floats on the gilded dust of the past. At times, Fontaine channels Jane Birkin as backed by Jorge Ben. Francois Hardy locked into sonic reverie with Mulatu Astatke, or Margo Guryan making lovers rock.

None of this is a happy accident. For her second opus, Fontaine assembled some of the most gifted musicians of the last five decades. First and foremost is her co-writer and producer, the multi-platinum Grammy-Award winning Lester Mendez, whose resume includes everyone from Grace Jones and Baaba Maal to Shakira and Nelly Furtado.

As with Fontaine’s self-titled first album, the legendary Tony Chin appears on guitar, bringing the orphic tones expected from someone who has played with some of the greatest reggae musicians of all-time (King Tubby, Dennis Brown, Lee Perry, Jackie Mittoo, Max Romeo, Sly & Robbie). On bass, there’s Ronnie McQueen, one of the co-founders of Steel Pulse. Sergio Mendes’ percussionist, Gibi Dos Santos, supplies propulsive locomotion. So does Ziggy Marley’s drummer, Rock Deadrick. And that’s just the abridged list of storied instrumentalists who appear on La Mer.

In the middle of the axis mundi lies Fontaine, building an orchestral escape to paradise. If her debut found her exploring a newfound love of Jamaican and Brazilian music, the passage of time has allowed for an enhanced familiarity and intimacy. Bandcamp called the first record “a spiritual sequel to Serge Gainsbourg’s late ’70s Jamaican sabbatical…the kind of dimly lit hideaway where Hunter S. Thompson might have guzzled Cuba Libres.” And her latest experiment in timeless rhythms yields even richer and more vibrant results.

“I write love songs. That’s what compels me,” Fontaine says. “I’m needlessly inspired by love, but in a deeper way than just pure romance. As you evolve, your understanding of the greater themes of life evolve too.”

On “Vaquero,” Fontaine spins the tale of a gaucho, a hardened man on horseback, a tortured soul who refuses love and sweats out his pain from the isolation of a chaparral-strewn ranch. “Love the Way You Love” is a prayer for an ardor then unrealized, but later fulfilled – a levitating hymn of golden sand and coral blue waters, heartache with only one antidote. “Green Ivy Tapestry” was written on an old mahogany bed in an ancient hotel room in London, in which the enchanted beauty of this tiny chamber symbolized the walled off possibilities within. With a polychromatic lilt, Fontaine sings in English, French, and Portuguese. But regardless of which language is used, the translations tap into a universal Esperanto. What’s matters most is how welcome and inviting these songs feel. They tap into a communal experience that unites cultures – a sensibility nurtured by travel and crate-digging, and produced with the help of pioneers of these forms.

La Mer is a hidden treasure, a dusty gem waiting to be discovered in an attic or right now, at your convenience. It’s a vulnerable work that taps into a profound wellspring of imagination, unbeholden to trends or popular whim. Something romantic in the essentialist sense of the world, one that opens you up to a new realm of possibilities and wonder. Something that allows you to close your eyes and effortlessly time travel through the past, present, and future. A trip to the pristine island of the mind, but one made immaculately real.