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Hermine, "Lonely at the Top"
She was a tightrope walker, a writer, performed with Coum, was billed next to This Heat, and appeared in Derek Jarman's film Jubilee before becoming a musician of any kind, and yet none of these facts could prepare anyone for the quirky and sultry music on this, her second album. She was called unmusical, considered unprofessional, and never once sat herself along side the French royalty to which she was compared, but most of all she was blatantly playful and 22 years removed she's still as intriguing and confusing as she must've been then.
LTM
I think one critic who claimed Demoriane couldn't sing hit the nail on the head: she's clearly not an academically trained vocalist of any kind. This, of course, wouldn't make much of a difference in the world of '80s pop music because so many bands used their less than perfect utterances to give them a distinct personality. That was, however, the advantage of a pop music unrestrained by classical influences. Demoriane was called a "bar-room Marlene Dietrich" and I think it is that aspect of her musical inclination that sets her apart from anyone around her at the time. Her music, their arrangements and their overall effect, remind me of a parody of French pop: her world is the French world seen through a twisted looking glass populated by mod subculture and Warhol-ian kitsch. Listening to her music and visualizing her personality, it's not hard to imagine why she was so often scoffed at and also praised for semi-torch singer pretensions.
In a way I think she must be mocking her entire gimmick and embracing it lovingly at the same time. She covers Neil Sedaka one moment and Yoko Ono the next, covering a song dedicated to a fetus, no less. She croons as if she's reaching for the right notes, but her voice never quite makes it. It isn't any less attractive for that reason, something in her stretching, sometimes cracking delivery is endearing, filled with all the whimsy and absurdity I often associate with the world of theatre or broadway: everything is lit up and exaggerated a thousand times more than is needed precisely because it is meant for a stage. So when the live tracks that are tacked onto this album begin, it's hard not laugh with her as the musicians behind her stumble through odd and awkward approximations of MOR melody and she tells little stories in an accent so thickly Parisian that it must've been faked for added hilarity.
If it sounds like I'm panning the record, I'm not. I enjoy listening to Demoriane's strange imitations of popular music and I especially like to laugh along with her when she decides that she can't keep the front going on much longer. Most of the record is held up by the especially entertaining live performances, of that there is no doubt, but listening to the studio recordings really distinguishes Demoriane as an entertainer of several shapes and sizes. I'd expect to hear her live work in a bar somewhere, but her album cuts are strange and skewed somehow and the weird factor they exude are enough to keep them intriguing. Her personality shines through every minute of the album and is probably the most attractive thing about her music. If there's one negative thing to say about her, it's that the music can only be taken in doses. I'll listen to it here and there for entertainment, but can't see recommending it as an essential part of anyone's collection. It is an oddity in a sea of them, but one that flirts with popular much more than anyone I can think of.
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