He’s worked with the likes of Daft Punk, Tiga, Björk and Jamie Lidell. The Mighty Boosh, Chris Morris, Erol Alkan and Jarvis Cocker are all fans. He’s put out some acclaimed solo albums, and played alongside and mentored many excellent artists. But what’s a piano player’s album doing on these pages?
Well, the new album from the newly Chilly-ed Gonzales has been masterfully produced by Boys Noize, and if you’re expecting something in the vein of his (Boys Noize’s) solo material, you will be pleasantly surprised to hear that he makes an excellent co-pilot. The integration of Gonazels’ marvellous piano playing with his electronic back bones is subtle, the tempos are low, and it all sounds wonderfully slick and plump.
The album exudes class, innovation and musical genius throughout, from the graceful opener of Knight Moves to the epic closer Final Fantasy. He plays the piano like an absolute demon, and throughout the album he keeps to a rhythmic, dancey style that’s full of energy and groove. Smothered Mate has a delicious ‘80s film soundtrack vibe to it, Boys Noize’s taut production giving the mesmerising chord sequences extra gravitas, the track gradually building to a frenzied torrent of sharp, distorted filth. Never Stop likewise builds from a simple looping piano melody to a heady crescendo of 808 snares and whirring textures, like the end some magical acid trip.
Bittersuite lays on romantic emotion thick with its wonderfully lush strings and Air-esque sleazy synths, while You Can Dance shows Gonazles in a pleasingly uplifting, life-affirming mood with Jackson 5 or other borderline Motwon/disco goodness the stylistics backbone. It’s classy, forward-thinking pop music with one foot in the past and one very much in the present – with great vocal hooks provided by guest singers both male and female.
His occasional vocals on the album are witty, funny, tongue-in-cheek and refreshing. Single I Am Europe won’t be for everyone with its kitsch sillyness, but it’s damn funny, and it’s hard to resist the glorious harmonies and the bold, jaunty ivory-tinkling therein. The Grudge breaks down into an R&B pastiche in the chorus after his hilarious theatre-rapping, which comes across like Dan Le Sac if he didn’t have an annoying voice.
The album faultlessly switches between gripping instrumentals and quirky vocal tracks, and its dramatic, cinematic nature fits perfectly with the film of the same name that Tiga and Peaches star alongside him in. This is an utterly unique album by a huge talent. Sorry to blow more smoke up his ass, but it’s totally addictive and we can’t fault it.