Sebastian – Notre Jour Viendra (Our Day Will Come)

The transformation of reputed French electronic producers into a seemingly brand new workshop of soundtrack maestros is an altogether quite surreal tack, if, at the same time, pretty understandable. After all, very few cultures take film as seriously as the French, so having a breed of musicians that work alongside that instantaneously recognisable artform makes sense. But what could be misconstrued is how this influx of audiovisual variety has stemmed from overlord’s Daft Punk’s branch out into the classically inclined with their skyscraping attempts at creating an appropriate, disintegrative and dystopian audio landscape to the recent Tron Legacy. It wasn’t too far from their acorn, though, that the movement really began – but it was the collective efforts of Mr. Oizo, Sebastian Tellier and the protagonist of this Romain Gavras (yes, he of M.I.A. ‘Born Free’ making fame) film Notre Jour Viendra (or Our Day will Come) Sebastian who were the some of the first real notables from the Parisian scene to dip their toe into such new, visually tailored waters.

But the soundtrack in general, and in its own grander scheme, has its separations in context between the audiovisual aspects of the film itself and its standalone musical characteristics – like any good soundtrack should, in truth. But it is whether the balance between these two settings, especially in the gloriously wanton context of the surrealist Notre jour Viendra’s, hold an equal balance where it’s greatness will shine. Well despite Sebastian’s near-complete tangent from his usual onslaught of 4/4 floor destroyers, the sharp nature of this soundtrack in its string-led yet somehow subtle grandeur will lay a marker for the producer as a highly sought after talent for creating such moods.

The siren opening of ‘Intro’ sets off on crossing that aforementioned spectrum perfectly, signalling the ominous beginnings of both the palpable, sinister nature of Gavras’ ersatz-Bonnie and Clyde tale and the accompanying soundtrack when laid to it’s track-listed realisation. From those rumbling beginnings, the morsels of orchestral dalliance that Sebastian beautifully wields into a fluid whole (outside of it’s silver screen juxtaposition) are a great demonstration of Sebastian’s own diversity as a producer and even as a modern composer, especially considering his abilities to coincide these movements with his own inimitable talents as a producer. It is actually his own heritage as a stand-out electronic maestro that gives the music a deliberately off kilter and darker hue. ‘Dies Irae’, for example, retains the almost metal structure of his dancefloor output despite being completely built on sampled, crescendoing strings. Traditional French vignettes permeate the necessary continuity of melody, as well, such as on the horn-led ‘L’enfance d’un chien’ which, despite going against the film’s own anarchic thematic engrain the music with an unmistakable and loveable character.

Whilst there are certain elements to Notre Jour Viendra’s musical landscape that may not strike strike as discernible, or even removed at all, from the pieces installed into Tron Legacy by Messrs Bangalter and de Homem-Christo (especially in the movements of ‘Rove’ and the more electronics-led ‘Retro’) it can still be considered to Sebastian’s credit that his name would appear on a level playing field with the robotic ones in terms of this kind of output. it is not without a special kind of talent that such things can come into formation, and when created this succinctly and with a teasing level of accessibility,

What ‘Notre Jour Viendra’ has achieved – save for its own stand-alone qualities as a very good example of how a soundtrack can be translated to it’s stand-alone musical core – is a further establishment of this artistic stable as a new force to be reckoned in the audiovisual plain. Sebastian is certainly, with this release, confirming his status as one of it’s frontrunners.