Boyarin

by Boyarin

/
  • Streaming + Download

    Includes unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more.

      €5 EUR  or more

     

  • Compact Disc (CD) + Digital Album

    Includes unlimited streaming of Boyarin via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more.
    ships out within 7 days

      €9 EUR or more 

     

1.
04:15
2.
3.
05:59
4.
5.
04:44
6.
7.
03:30
8.
9.
10.
11.
12.
05:19
13.
14.

about

(c) (p) Figurines Music, 2016
msboyarin@gmail.com
www.facebook.com/boyarinmusic

« L’album le plus étrange de 2016 est l’œuvre d’un orfèvre pop mystérieux. [...] Cet objet sonore non identifié, aux couleurs saturées, tressaute, trottine, irradie de mille harmonies de cristal, en une abondance extrême de sentiers mélodiques à emprunter, mêlant la rutilance des machines et la dimension charnelle de la voix. »
Les Inrockuptibles : www.lesinrocks.com/musique/critique-album/boyarin-same/

******
« It is like chamber music performed by the microfauna living within a fluorescent fungus city in the leaf litter beneath an ancient magical tree. It is like nothing I've heard recently.” (James Baker, Bandcamp Hunter)
******
« Picture this: Bach's forlorn spirit wandering about glitched 8-bit landscapes while mulling over the decline of perfectionism. Boyarin's music manages to be both meticulously crafted and startingly fresh, playful and solemn, melancholy but never bitter - one of the most rewarding listens I've had in years.” (Nick Grey, musician)
******
« Boyarin déploie une pop de chambre, la chambre d’un enfant qui, jouant avec ses figurines, croit encore qu’on peut fonder des métropoles dans les arbres, être le maître d’un monde sans écraser personne. »
Gonzaï : gonzai.com/boyarin-pour-les-grands-et-les-petits/
******
Boyarin réalise le tour de force de nous offrir une œuvre singulière bien que multi-référencée. Pas facile de décrire de façon clinique ou rationnelle une musique aussi organique, parfois orgiaque.
"Boyarin" est déjà un grand album de 2016, toutes catégories confondues.
Laissez-vous emporter par ce tourbillon (1000 idées par chanson, bon ratio).
"L’humanité reconnaissante" pourra-t-on graver sur l’épitaphe de l’auteur.
Popnews : www.popnews.com/popnews/boyarin-boyarin
*****
« En matière de pop psychédélique, bariolée et barrée, ce premier album de Boyarin n’a aucun équivalent actuel. [....] Boyarin aura toujours l’avantage de cultiver une certaine naïveté musicale, une sincérité, une fraîcheur, un univers qui n’appartiennent qu’à lui, toujours étonnant parfois épuisant mais si riche que pour en faire le tour il faudra bien prévoir quelques années devant soi. [...] Essayez, vous verrez, c’est simple et totalement renversant. »
Addict Culture : addict-culture.com/boyarin-album
*****
« Chaque chanson de l’album est empreinte de cette ambiance de conte baroque et fantastique qui tisse tranquillement sa toile dans nos esprits confondus. Tranquillement, parce que l’esthétique sonore est fluide; impétueusement surtout, parce que derrière cette douceur se cache un tourment surprenant. »
Untitled : untitledmag.fr/boyarin-un-premier-album-reveur-et-enchanteur/
******
« La fantasmagorie ambigüe d'un marionnettiste pop qui tantôt ferait valser haut les voix désincarnées, tantôt remonterait à contre-sens les rouages de boîtes à musique baroques au rhizome plus piégé qu'il n'y paraît. »
RifRaf, avril 2016.
******
« Filet de voix trafiquotée à l’hélium sur fond d'un luxuriant clavier bon marché : la curiosité laisse vite place à la sidération. Il y a quelque chose d'unique dans l'univers de Boyarin, une sorte de psychédélisme cristallin qui doit autant à Bach qu'à la pop baroque bricolée version symphonie liliputienne. »
En morceaux : enmorceaux.blogspot.fr/2016/04/en-vrac-boyarin.html

*****
« Cet album nous fait entrer dans une sorte de monde fantastique, voire féérique, un lieu enchanté où toutes sortes de créatures se rencontrent. [La] voix, légère et fragile nous berce, elle nous ramène sur terre mais nous envoie aussi dans les nuages. Un monde imaginaire où tout est possible, un rêve merveilleux. »
Nouvelle Vague : www.nouvelle-vague.com/boyarin-boyarin/
******
« L’O.V.N.I du printemps 2016 est donc signé Boyarin !
La pop de ce garçon est complètement désarticulée et a comme points cardinaux Jean Sébastien Bach et Brian Wilson. Une révolution dans le monde très sage de la pop française. »
Soul Kitchen : www.soul-kitchen.fr/64223-tres-fort-boyarin
******
« Un disque d’une originalité folle. Un disque de pop intimiste, à la fois printanier et lumineux, dans des arrangements superbes... »
Hop-blog : www.hop-blog.fr/sorties-dalbums-pop-rock-electro-8-avril-2016
******
« Une fois que l’on ouvre cette porte, on se retrouve dans un drôle de jardin des délices où les fruits sucrés d’une pop baroque et psychédélique sont presque à portée de main. Mais un jardin singulier qui ressemblerait également à un abracadabrant labyrinthe, où rien n’est évident [...] Où la fantasmagorie, cette voix de fausset, les multiples sonorités lo-fi instrumentales faites sur ordinateur, se mêlent aux mystères d’une écriture dense et pointilleuse faites de nombreuses lignes mélodiques, [...], aux structures imprévisibles qui semblent vivre leur propre vie. »
Froggy's Delight : www.froggydelight.com/article-17217.html
*****
« C'est par une royale issue de secours qu'on est entré dans l'univers musical de Boyarin. Soit la chanson Emergency Exit, invraisemblable dédale de près de huit minutes, chanson-gigogne capable de rendre chèvre n'importe quel expert en chausse-trappes mélodiques et en casse-tête harmoniques. A la première écoute, l'esprit tout embrumé par l'émotion, on a pensé un peu trop facilement avoir mis l'oreille sur un nouveau spécimen de petit génie de la pop baroque […]. A la deuxième écoute, on a confusément senti que cette affaire était loin d'être classée, que quelque chose d'autrement déviant se tapissait dans la trame proliférante de cette musique étrangement organique, dans la langue savante causée par ces claviers un peu cheap et par cette drôle de voix haut perchée […]. Aux écoutes suivantes […] s'imposait au moins cette évidence : on se trouvait face à une musique aussi limpide dans ses manifestations sensibles qu'énigmatique dans ses principes. Et les autres pièces – chantées ou instrumentales […] devaient enfoncer le clou : mouvantes et imprévisibles, comme douées d'une existence autonome, elles semblaient sorties de la conscience supérieure et des mains expertes d'un compositeur et instrumentiste rompu à des formes inédites de sortilèges.  »
Richard Robert, L'Oreille Absolue" : www.loreilleabsolue.com/article/Boyarin_J-essaie_de_cr%C3%A9er_des_formes_de_vie
*****
« Boyarin - Emergency Exit. Sept minutes d'hallucination auditive, pendant lesquelles l'esprit de Bach se réincarne en bricoleur pop de génie : ce garçon est à suivre. »
Les Inrockuptibles, 24/02/09, p. 68, "10 Chansons sur le Net";
www.lesinrocks.com/actualite/actu-article/t/36385/date/2009-02-21/article/week-end-top-ten-8/
www.lesinrocks.com/lesinrockslab/artiste/profil/boyarin/
******



Gracias Philippe Barrière Renaud Cojo Jean-Charles Dufeu Chris Evans Nick Grey Peter James Orso Jesenska Anne Laplantine Olivier Libaux Danilo de Luca Loïs M. Richard Robert Alice Ruffini Kaliane Ung Fredo Viola ♈ Muchas muchas gracias merci to all the contributors at Microcultures : Maria Sofia Nicolai Moldoveanu Rodolphe Gonzales Patrick Dreux Elsa Libaux Thomas Bader Marc Pivaudran Chloro Phil Fabien Pailhès Sébastien Gobi Guillaume Medioni Audrey Betsch Catherine Watine Benjamin Tourdes Emmanuel Alarco Jean-Baptiste Bertrand Renaud Couranjou Gilles Floureau Olivier Gelbart Laetitia Deleuze Thibault Franc Laurent Grenier Camille Burgat Amel Djaffar Morgan Vergnol Charlotte Agricole Emma Bester Loïc Le Pape Jean-Philippe Bailay Sandra Guigonis Sylvain Faivre Vincent Salin Peter Dourountzis Émilie Azoulai Cécile Chartres Marieke Joly-Langlois Olivia Miraucourt Marianne Joly Céline Barthonnat Sonia Lemaire François Cachot Julie Salin Christian Vernadat Audrey Schmitz Patrick Miraucourt Camille Cazaubon Christophe Leiciaguecahar Edouard Bougueret Nathalie Bazille Maëlle Castéra Sarah Gastebois Laurent Naveau Hubert Luperini Lucie Ruffini David Beorchia Aurélie Tessier François-Jean Dazin Olivier Longre Emmanuelle Verger Matthieu Brossier Céline Fouga Jérôme Gillet Édouard Bourré-Guilbert Delphine Miraucourt Nicolas Salin Régis Le Guilloux Franco Massimo Sposaro Camille Burgat Linda Guéraud-Heinrich Matthieu Dufour Silvain Vanot Vincent Théval Nadia Crespin Émilie Noël Corinne Salin François Noudelmann Annie Miraucourt Richard Leah Daniel Miraucourt Maliny Uch Nicole Tamine Jean-Philippe Bailay Guillaume Sautereau Arnaud Dumatin Noémie Choquel

credits

released April 8, 2016

tags

license

all rights reserved

about

Boyarin France

contact / help

Contact Boyarin

Streaming and
Download help

Redeem code

Track Name: Useless Lights
I took a knife from the sideboard
I stole some cash you put aside
I gently ran away through winding lanes
I wrote a letter and I hid it behind a shelf
You'll find it years from now
You'll read it and maybe you'll remember

We tried to live as they do
We tried to have a kind of pleasant life
We rented proper thoughts and usual advice
But we got into debts for we weren't hardworking
Those expensive pastimes / those costly commonplaces
Now I have to turn off those useless lights
And watch the night

I miss the years we have wasted
I miss the beauty we've lost
I have to map this slow disaster
I'll dig to the bottom of the history of failure
Before I stop to moan
Before i pull down my watchtower
I have to go down to the sewers
and feel the water

****

A storm in the morning
Puddles on the tracks
Old tire marks
And rubbish left by poachers
Setting out for my hidden recess where i will rest my mind

Swamps by the old gas station
Hungry creatures roam around
Clouds of bugs assault moving flesh
Heaps of rusty scraps
And i mingled with foxes and hedgehogs and lizards
And i got old fast - crawling in the sludge of a mean world
Track Name: Oliphaunt
I saw your eyes snowing fears that filled your plate
A cold-flat tiredness flooded your every gear like tons of oil
You spent summers in a jar
You fished old nails on tar
To build your spaceship
There must be some old stars to be born on

I heard you hunting your past like slugs in the grass
An angry music fell off from your hands and scared the garden
You’d love to be a secure land
You’d love to care about a friend
But they have taught you to wear this insane coat
to hush

There’s a cellar in your mind you fail to open
Your potential has expired
And if you’re tied to empty days and blank relationships
Please give me a call and I will come a-running
I’ll always be your Oliphaunt
Just sit on my back

Social workers steal your sun and build fake horizons
Dumb employers breathe your very own air
And if you feel you’re getting sick and thrown in the wind
Please give me a call and I will come a-running
I’ll always be your Oliphaunt
Just hang on to my neck

You’re a schooner in a pond where they go swimming
You’re the one they cannot turn into salt
But if it becomes too hard to handle, too bitter to drink
Please send me an e-mail and I will come a-running
I’ll always be your Oliphaunt
Just sleep while I dri
Track Name: Invasions
They dress up in ancient memories
they hide themselves behind trees and curtains
they vanish in the midday sun
their cold shapes arise with the evening moons
they're singing an insane chorus
they exactly know your fears
They're spying your moves
They're whispering these lines:

« We know how to turn you lazy
how to turn you into a stone
it's a heavy sluggish life
it's a daily failure, boy
we painted all things grey
every faces you're going to remember
we cancelled the flavours
we gently unpick all your clothes
until your heart turns cold »

White worms in the morning milk
dead birds falling from the morning skies
Could you please help me to run
away from their cannibal soldiers
for I am invaded
they're unseeable they're countless spies
they always get what they want

« You’ll keep up complaining
what you see coming is what you're scared of
from the crenels of your mansion
from your shelter in the mountains
Are you really breathing?
Is there anybody here?
They own the sighs that live and die in your mouth
Aimless thoughts are their homeland
They consume everything »
Track Name: Emergency Exit
I gave you all I got
I left my friends and threw my past away
And I became a frozen machine

I ruined my job and I jumped in your bag
Where my spine turned into haze
Trying to fit with your certainties

When will I be able to stand up to the one I feed
The one who wrings my aching mind?
I grab and mumble my chant
Staring at the emergency exit

I signed a long-term lease for morning thrills and afternoon relapses
I let the years compose a maze

And everyday I check our faces drawn on the bathroom mirror glass
I feel your shivers in my days

When will I be able to stand up to the one I feed
The one who wrings my aching mind?
I grab and mumble this chant
Remembering that

I had to drown you in the tub
Hide your body under the rug
I saw a narrow light that did not last
Tell me please: have we blocked the emergency exit?

When will I be ready to snatch
the little bugs that fill the space around our melting corpse?
We lay here since we’ve been inventing each other

I had to drown you in the tub
Hide your body under the rug
I tried to rectify but we’re still locked in our can
And is there any emergency exit
Door?
Track Name: You
You fear the glance of everyone
You hide yourself in the shadow of a lamb
You’re a dumb
You’re a plum
You are scrubbing your old slum
You keep gambling on the ever-losing hand
You’re a clown
You’re a plot against the fun
Rain falls down on your town
The shops are closed, the day has gone
You shake
Your tiny dying lung
What kind of life have you found ?

You steal the money that you own
You hide yourself beneath a steamy argument
You’re a clown
You are drowned
You had your life in your hand
But you’ve lost your way too many times to count
You are wrong
You’re a plot against the fun
Rain falls down on your town
The shops are closed the day has gone
You shake
Your tiny dying lung
What kind of job have you done ?
Track Name: Progénitures
Tim wears your coat and Phil is walking by your street
With your favorite black shoes on
Olivia writes your novel and Pete plays your song
Louis is working on your precious computer
And Sebastian looks like you

You are an ancient function,
You're living in an outdated version
There was a time when you met some people
When you were having fun
Your jokes were famous
But Sylvie forgot your name and Steve thinks you are Another person

No one is talking to these kind of people
They simply garnish alleys and parks

***

Did I really meet you
Is there something I confided in you?
Are you this guy I once saw at the station,
In the kitchen of my parents' home?
They said I have to be brave
And I guess I wasn't very brave

***

No one is waiting for these kind of people
Trains left the stations before they breath

No one is living with these kind of people
Their houses are hidden far from town

        I don't recall, I just have this feeling: 
        we’re far from the good times

You were the favorite one
I should remind why
You came and went
And disappeared from Earth

        I don't recall, I just have this feeling
       We’re far from the good times

                   You were the favorite one
                   The favorite son

I joined the pale grey teams
I rented a little house
Far from dangers and thrills

         I don't get it, I never thought I should
          Stay away from you

                    I joined the pale grey people
                    The pale grey sands

                                  There's nothing to burn,
                                  Nothing to light on

          (I don't rejoice, I still bear this sadness
           I don't care what you've done)

                    (You were the favorite one
                   the favorite son)

          (I don't get it
           I never thought I should
           Stay away from you)

                   I’m part of the pale grey people
                   The pale grey sands

                                There's nothing to burn,
                                Nothing to light on
Track Name: Impossible Corners
Hands, my unquiet hands
Now use to shake
Suspicious unfriendly fingers
I am living in my neighbours' bellies
Waiting behind an impossible

Face, wrong-sided face
Looks like a neck
Looks like a frightened haircut
Will someone understand how it turned inside out and Front-side back?
AND NOW

We nest in never-ending fear
A never-ending fall through hostile people
You probably close your gate and dig beneath your sheets
Listening to your new head grow

I look like things that never happened
Kind of things built in impossible corners
Though I was made for entertainment
I was made to heat your coldest rooms

****

I'm not afraid of what you are
I'm not selling my vows once you left
This tremendous band that played
My favorite mornings
And my growing islands

You threw your voice in the lake
You got fat, you got bald
You removed all your stuff, you burnt your pictures
You draw a sign on your appartment door
Some aliens would know how to read it
You just have to wait for them to detect your brain


      Voices, Bad-tuned voices
      Are now incessantly flowing from my throat
      Buy me something to replace this sound
      You will find me under your knee


Buy me something to feed
My upcoming winters
My narrow-minded times

I sound like things that never happened
I'm standing in some impossible corners
Now i'll learn how to melt away
Inside the well of your recollections
Track Name: Grande-Garabagne
I travelled uptown
I met a tired old friend
I took a walk with my mum
I talked with them about people we knew
I was thinking about thinking of you

I’ve always been an alien
In this neighbourhood
There’s something I haven’t understood
The way they speak - the way they silently hope
an endless week-end to die in

Days are sinking in the mud
I haven’t found the keys of the closets
In which they’ve hidden the reason why

You people frighten me
when you take care of your towns
You crowd of peaceful owners
You’re crouching beneath your lime-trees
Your children are playing with your suits

You won’t recall my name
I’m just a tired old son
That came and went without a sound
I let you clean up and brush up and iron your Sundays
I have to leave before the night

Days are sinking in the mud
I didn’t pay attention to the wilderness
That creeps inside your homes

Plastic flowers on your tables
Are going to fade and wither
And something is waiting to surge