Arno is one of those artists whom people either love or hate, with no room for indifference: his raspy voice, uncertain delivery and obscure if poetic lyrics either charm or repel. And the Belgian’s eleventh solo outing
Brussld won’t do much to change this uncompromising state of affairs!
Arno has delivered a dark album, kicking off with the sombre
Black Dog Day and its nervy guitar solos.
Mademoiselle swirls about in a decadent fairground atmosphere;
God save the kiss offers dirty rock sounds with harsh synths;
Le lundi on reste au lit (Mondays we stay in bed) has all the savour of a hangover. But Arno cleverly alternates these dark vignettes with tracks that are replete with a poignant humanity.
Even without necessarily grasping what Arno is singing about in
Quelqu’un a touché ma femme, it’s impossible not to be moved by the singer’s intensity, and the song’s beautifully stripped down orchestration. Arno’s world view can seem almost autistic, and yet he is a wonderful raconteur of daily life. From a simple scene or image, he can create a masterpiece.
Elle pense quand elle danse is three minutes of pure emotion in the form of a declaration of love to womankind. Indeed, declarations of love are hardly lacking on this album, particularly on the celebratory
Brussels, a call to all of the different communities of that melting pot city to convene on the same dance floor.
In a career stretching 35 years, Arno still hasn’t sold out or become a caricature of himself. With
Brussld, he is most certainly improving with age, like a fine wine. Too bad for the teetotallers!