Coeur de Pirate - "Corbeau" (2008)

Those fricative r’s may sound poetic, but even in the lilting rhythms of French, the emotional musings of the young, confessional singer-songwriter are stubbornly prosaic: the soaring highs of new love; the endless crushing pain of a stomped-upon heart; the easily-defined, impossible-to-uphold sense of morality; the desperate pleas to be truly understood; the incongruent obsession with death.

Now 20 years old, Québécoise pianist Béatrice Martin, performing since 2008 as Coeur de Pirate, pours such post-adolescent sentiments—age-appropriate intensity intact—all over her pseudonymously self-titled debut. Romantic partners die at night. Breaths choke half-formed in throats, never to convey the life-saving messages they contain. Dancing equals life equals love equals fear.

The complete 21st-century package, Martin boasts doe-eyed, tousled-waif looks, more arm tattoos than Tommy Lee (honestly), and a success arc that owes some of its velocity to an adorable 2009 viral video featuring a toddler playing with his toys set to Coeur de Pirate’s music. From there, it wasn’t long before Martin was bestowed with both a fanboy rave from Perez Hilton and a Francophone Album of the Year nomination from Canada’s esteemed Juno Awards.

Coeur de Pirate (the album) is worth the hype—although it is somewhat less convincing when it embraces the typical sonic emblems of francophone pop (sidewalk café accordions, sprightly waltzes) and much more persuasively laudable in its wrenching ballads. Martin demonstrates a lightness of touch in her piano playing rare among her ilk; her assured voicings recall Regina Spektor’s playful trills and artfully counterbalance the occasional formulaic arrangements and lyrics.

“Corbeau” is one such beautiful highlight. Built around an uncomplicated two-chord pattern, the song conveys Martin’s feelings, rather than describes them in Dear Diary detail. The descending chorus twirls delicately around itself, mirroring the song’s image of two lovers looking at each other and seeing strangers. Martin leaves telling spaces between words and picks at her piano like she’s trying to remember an old phone number. The quiet loveliness of “Corbeau” makes me eager to hear what Béatrice Martin is going to do next.

click the image below to listen to song previews or buy the album: