As a reviewer, you sometimes receive music that doesn't quite fit the focus or musical taste you've established for yourself.
Often, it's music that doesn't resonate with me, but sometimes... yes, sometimes... there is music that touches, hits the heart, fascinates, confuses, or piques curiosity.
ST. ARNAUD from Canada, more specifically from Edmonton, is one of those artists who has captivated me with his music. ST. ARNAUD is a man with a guitar who released his debut album in 2019, with the beautiful title “The Cost of Living“.
2019 was a time when the world was still in order, at least not yet gripped by a virus that has kept the world on edge for two years and continues to do so. However, this time had its advantages as well. Many artists, including ST. ARNAUD, dealt creatively with the situation, meaning there was time available and it was a special situation with unique measures and feelings. All of this needed to be processed.
ST. ARNAUD took a lot of time for his songs as well as for the recordings, and what came out is something special, at least in my eyes and ears.
The single “Catching Flies“ was what spoke to me so much that I wanted to hear the entire album.
With “Catching Flies“, ST. ARNAUD not only released a lovely stop-motion video but also a beautiful song. The arrangement reminded me a lot of the older works of ELEMENT OF CRIME, and the vocals, even though they are not as dark and scratchy as those of Sven Regener (singer of ELEMENT OF CRIME), fit wonderfully. I had the thought that someone has very well copied the Berlin band. Certain influences are undeniable when listening. However, ST. ARNAUD is so distinctive that a mere comparison with the well-known Berlin melancholics falls short. The Canadian moves strongly towards calm, dreamy alternative pop on his album. Here and there, a hint of indie rock also shines through.
“Love and the front Lawn“ is an appealing, dreamy, partly melancholic, and partly yearning album.
Anyone who enjoys this kind of music will feel right at home with ST. ARNAUD.
